47 Jean (1/2)

So, uh, now we're gonna have to talk about Jean...

Strange. Who's Jean again? I don't remember her. Even Subject 1 doesn't remember her accurately since I can't seem to find much information about her in the man's memory database! Who in the world is Jean? The man knows her name; the man remembers saying the words ”Poor Jean” before inevitable murdering her. However, the man has no recollection of who she is.

Oh wait; he knows now why he didn't remember much about this woman.

Yes. Jean is the victim that the man hated the most.

She was that beautiful woman he kidnapped when he was drunk that night after partying on the death anniversary of Mary. I know, fucked up, right? They threw a party to commemorate a murdered woman's death. It's so beautifully disgusting. However, the man didn't mind it that much. He didn't even know that this party in the tavern at that moment was one to commemorate one of his victim's death. He was just trying to drown the deep rush of melancholy creeping through the cracks appearing in his mind. Then again, we don't really know why the man is feeling so blue, for, at that very moment, he had already forgotten the face of Laura! He couldn't even remember the outline of Mary's body that he once loved. He could still remember the sensation of Chris' neck on his hands, but other than that, there really is no reason for him to retain his memory of the boy.

He just danced among the crowd of people lurking about the feisty tavern and dunked bottles after bottles of whatever drink the bartender was giving him.

The party was not the craziest one in the world. It's filled with older people and a few young ones, so it's most definitely not the one that high school students knew intimately to their hearts. Nevertheless, it's still a party. Disco music is playing in a cheap speaker that barely lasted the entire night, and people of varying ages danced among one another to drown the memory of a fallen neighbor and friend with the taste of booze. A few hours later, the only music one could hear at the party is the sound of the older village people, chanting a polka. Luckily, the man knows how to sing it; he lives on the outskirts of the town long enough to see the culture of these people. They might not know much about this unsociable lad, but they do know that he's quite a charismatic person who quickly drew the attention of everyone towards him. Thus, he sang with his victim's family and friends happily while groping the breast of a new-found lady.

Jean.

They sang a merry tune with the person who killed the woman to whom they dedicate this very party. A bunch of men happily partied in her memory. I bet Mary would be immensely turned on right now, seeing all these men dancing and drinking in her name. Too bad she's dead.

Going back to the topic at hand, Subject 1 left the party with Jean. Their arms wrapped around each other. Nobody saw them leave; everybody was either unconscious or too drunk to care.

When he woke up the next day, the man felt good, rejuvenated even. He felt refreshed, and to be quite honest; Jean gave him a great night, the sex was amazing. He wondered then why this is the first time he saw a beauty like Jean. Sexy and beautiful with a very gentle voice and soft skin, the man didn't know much about the other parts of her body such as her neck, nor does he know more about her personality since he's too drunk, but she was perfect nonetheless! However, when he came about in the morning, she wasn't on the bed.

He put a boxer short on and left his van. He's still hopeful that Jean is around, that maybe he could know her better; Subject 1 is hoping that he could fuck her like a barbarian again, strangle her neck like he meant to kill her rotten and breed the woman to mark her as his property. He walked around. Still, he didn't see anyone pass by his lonesome van on the outskirts of the village. There's not even an animal about, and the wind is oddly still. It's as if Jean left a spell on him and the ecstasy he felt that night will be naught but a fond memory. How disappointing.

He was about to enter his van again when he heard an elderly woman calling out his attention.

”Oh, I'm so sorry for being rude to you, young man!” The elderly woman said, gasping and panting with a gentle smile, the kind of smile an elderly woman gives to their grandchildren. ”I wasn't able to hear your name when we were on that anniversary party yesterday!”

”It's okay, ma'am. I'm not sure if I know you, too, so I guess we're even.” He laughed louder than he should have, but the elderly woman didn't particularly mind. Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please clickfor visiting.

”Silly you! Of course, you know my name!” The elderly woman chuckled. ”Don't tell me you forgot already after that exciting thing we did last night?”

The man raised an eyebrow with a disgusting thought running through his head though he refuses to accept it. ”Excuse me?”

”It's me, silly! Jean!” The old woman said with a chuckle. ”We were having the best moment of our lives last night, and I know how much you loved momma.”

Crack.

The man felt as if he heard his sanity, his manhood, and his boner crack and broke both at the same time. That last word that the hag said rang in his head, and slowly, he filtered all his fond memory of the beautiful woman he held that night with the newer revelation of this elderly woman who was still speaking in front of him. The disgust he felt almost made him nauseous when he pictured both of them having sex in his bed. It made his stomach churn even further after remembering that he masturbated earlier while smelling the scent of Jean in his blanket.

The man was angry, madder than Laura's father, when the villagers found his daughter's body. He was filled with an unrivaled amount of pure hatred for this ugly hag standing in front of him that the only thing he could hear is a ringing sound in his head. The ringing reverberating throughout his mind blocked everything that the woman was saying, although he could see that her lips are moving.