Violence, Nudity, and Strong Language<br/><br/><br/>"Fucking cunt," Max muttered under his breath, glaring at the beautiful young woman. Her eyes flared with fear, like a frightened prey staring into the eyes of a wolf just before he devours her. Max pulled the rubber gloves onto his hands and a smock, with what may have been scrub pants. He even had one of those blue cloth hats surgeons wear and a mask to cover his nose and mouth. Robert wanted him to protect himself, to be careful against leaving his DNA on this woman. Max really didn't give a shit, but Robert was the boss and Max was fine with that for now.<br/><br/>He approached the woman who's hands were tied between two posts near the brick wall. Her mouth bound in a rag. Max took a knife walked over to the woman. Fear flowed from her eyes. Max thrust the small blade into her abdomen and pulled it out. She whimpered in pain. Max was exhilarated. He took a clean blade and ripped open each of her buttons. Using the blade, he shredded and removed her top allowing it to drop to the ground. Her exposed wound seeped blood. Her chest heaved, undulating under her small breasts. Every cut, every slice excited him. It was as though they were having sex. He was erect and each cut was like a stroke in a passionate love-making session. Max was thoroughly enjoying this.<br/><br/>"What do you need this bra for, bitch?" Max asked rhetorically. "You have no tits." He giggled at her as he cut the bra straps allowing it to fall to the ground. Her almost flat chest exposed for anyone to see. The knife he used to cut her bra, he then used to cause a slow dragging laceration across her back. The woman tried to scream. If it weren't for the rag in her mouth, it would have been loud. Tears flowed from her eyes. She knew she was going to die. Max walked to her front and slashed her chest a dozen times leaving cuts all across her mid section. blood seeped from numerous wounds, soaking into her skirt.<br/><br/>Max then undid her skirt by hand. He did not bother with the blade. In fact, he stuck the blade in her stomach and left it there. He pulled the skirt down around her ankles, followed by her panties. He pulled out another blade, jabbed it into her throat below her left ear and slowly began cutting the tendons and ligaments in her neck. It was touch to cut, like leather. As he sliced through the carotid artery, it sent a spurt of blood eight feet into the air coating the ground. Like a throbbing wound, the blood pumped in a series of jets, which became slowly less powerful, until the spurting was simply oozing blood down her neck, across her chest and down her legs.  Max continued to slice through her throat until the blade had reached the right side of her neck.<br/><br/>Before the blade was across her larynx, her breath had stopped, her eyes stared out into nothing. There was no focus and her limbs were relaxed. His work was complete. She was close enough to the brick wall for the message. Max knew her death would not be in vain. Obviously it was a display for someone's entertainment. He used her blood to draw wings on the bricks behind her. They were the large red angelic wings of cherubs. Her face serene and angelic in appearance now displayed naked and bloody as an angel, sacrificed for God. In the wings, in blood, Max scribbled as best he could,<span style="font-style: italic">"Angels Live Amongst Us."</span><br/><br/>Then the clean up.