Nolan felt a sharp pain surge through his head as his eyes fluttered open. There were traces of blood that flickered in his dark lashes but he ignored them. The last thing he had remembered was that his hands were around the stupid blonde's neck, abruptly, there was a stinging sensation and the world had gone black.

If he had known that she was going to be this much trouble, he wouldn't have chosen her.

The other girls had been more passive, they had gone along with his little game. They would lie there, their screams dying out eventually as he did what he did and oh, the things that he did to their bodies. They didn't dare to utter a word when he had let them go free either. They weren't stupid, they weren't stupid like this one.

As his eyes adjusted to the bright light that illuminated the room, he groggily glanced around and felt his breath hitch in his throat as he took in what he saw.

He was in his room, but, at the same time, it wasn't his room.

The walls were covered in plastic— the type of plastic that was used to move furniture and cover cars, a tarp kind. Not only that, it covered every inch of the floor, his bed, his dresser and nearly everything else that was situated within the room.

Not a single spot had been spared.

He swallowed hard and proceeded to get up in a state of panic. He instantly lurched back into his seat and when he glanced down, he came to see that his legs were bound to the chair with the same brown rope that was seen hanging his closet. Similarly, as he tried to wiggle his hands, he noticed they were tied behind him and he couldn't move at all.

His breathing quickened when he became to comprehend what was happening, and his heart nearly froze in his chest when he saw her, standing there, leaning against the doorframe, the same way he had.

"I didn't think I would have to do this you know, Nolan," she started off as she pushed herself off the frame of the door.

Was she going to leave him here and call the police?

Why had she covered the entire room in plastic then?

Scarlett made her way closer, her hips swaying in a mesmerizing way as always, clicking her tongue along as she dragged her finger slowly over the plastic that covered the dresser.

"All I wanted was a good night Nolan, just one good night," She continued softly as she made her way over towards him.

"And it would've been a good night too if you hadn't done what you did."

Nolan's eyes remained glued to her as he watched her redirect herself towards the bed. She then began to spread out a towel onto the plastic covered bed that she had most likely taken from his bathroom and didn't stop until it was stark straight. It wasn't long before his brain registered what she was doing. One by one, she laid a knife next to one another, all in different sizes that he noticed were from his kitchen.

Her index finger traced over the cool blade of the medium-sized kitchen knife before she picked it up, twirling the knife around to examine it. She weighed it around in her hand, the sleek black handle of it was cold to the touch. Licking her lips, Scarlett drew her sky blue eyes back to him and smiled, however, this time it was far more sinister than what Nolan had encountered throughout the night.

"I didn't want you to be another victim you know, I just wanted one good fuck, to not think about what the news was saying about me."

Nolan felt sweat formulate on his forehead and dread enter into his veins as he stammered, "The news? What's the news saying about you?"

Scarlett shook her head and tsk'd, "They gave me such a title, the Brooklyn Ripper, how do they expect a girl to live up to that name?"

Nolan felt his whole body shake in terror when the weight of her words fell onto his shoulders.

She wasn't stupid, no not at all, he was. He was stupid, he was stupid to think that she wasn't out there targeting men, men like him. He hadn't paid attention to the news as of recently but, he had heard the name being thrown around, it was something hard to ignore.

It fell from the lips of nearly every person that lived in New York.

The Brooklyn Ripper, a nefarious serial killer that was known to target men.

He should have seen it coming? But, could he, really? It was the same way the girls he lured in didn't see what he was going to do to them coming. The way he managed to trap those girls was the same way she had managed to trap him.

And, this time, there was no escape.

"But, after what you pulled, this made it so much easier to do, who knew you were so twisted, Nolan? All these little toys you keep? What a sick little boy you are," She teased, taking a step closer.

Nolan gulped and wished he could move back, but even he knew, it would do nothing for him.

"It hurts to know what you do to these girls, and it hurts to know you've gotten away with it for so long," she smirked, clearly amused by the irony of the whole situation.

"It's just sex," he mumbled back, not realizing how weak and pathetic his voice had sounded.

"I think it's just funny how you thought you could do that to me, considering who I am in this damned city."

If Nolan had been anyone else, he would have cried and begged for his life but he wasn't going to. He was going to accept his fate for what it was, maybe, there was someone watching over and they knew, this was what he deserved for what he did.

"What are you going to do to me?" he cautiously asked, his eyes piercing into hers one last time.

"I'm the Brooklyn Ripper, darling, I'm going to rip you apart."

—