Recently promoted to Detective, Alex is out to prove himself and the Slasherazzi case is the perfect opportunity. Mutilated corpses are showing up across Tampa, and when the team discovers the newest victim was tortured alive, Alex becomes more determined than ever to stop the crazed serial killer before the horrific stabbings escalate further.
With the return of Alex’s ex-boyfriend and journalist, Vince, the investigation takes a dangerous twist: the killer starts showing a personal interest in Alex. Can he stop the murders and salvage his relationship with Vince, or does he risk letting both men get away?
Where does one begin with a story such as Slasherazzi and not give spoilers? I'll do my best. This is not for the faint at heart. The story is told from the detective's POV with the exception of a few chapters where you see inside the killer's mind, which is not an pretty sight. I came across this little gem when I was searching for some hauntings and ghost stories, there aren't any ghosts in this story other than what's in the killer's own mind, but this popped up and I do love a good mystery so I thought, "What the hell, I'll give it a go". Boy am I ever glad that I did because this was magnificent even at it's more gory moments. Let's just say if this was a movie then there are definite scenes where you'd be covering your eyes and screaming. So delicious! And having read it with Halloween season fast approaching was just icing on the top. If you have the stomach for a few scenes of unpleasant destruction than this is the one for you and if gore isn't really your comfort zone, I think you'll still enjoy Slasherazzi because in my opinion you could "skim" through those few chapters and not be lost.
RATING:
The naked body laid before me trembled with fear, the muscles beneath his pale skin vibrating like an engine starting up. Wide green eyes stared up at me. He struggled against the black duct tape that bound him securely to the wooden table and muffled his cries for help. I tensed my fingers around the hilt of my Bowie knife, and a twisted smile spread slowly across my face as I debated where to make the first cut.
The body squirmed as the knife point pressed against the twitching flesh of his stomach. I trailed the tip up his chest and over the ridges of his heaving ribcage. Here? No. Back down to his legs. His muscles stiffened as the cold metal passed his exposed genitals, and I chuckled quietly to myself. Here.
“You’re going to die today,” I informed him with no more emphasis than if I had announced that blood is red. “You’ll have no more need for this than you will any other part of your body.”
The skin gave way to the sharp, narrow point of my blade, and the first crimson rivulet spilled out of the cut to meander down his shriveled sac, traversing its way through a forest of dark curly hair. I licked my lips in anticipation. He cried out through the old sock and layers of tape, but it wasn’t enough. I drove the knife in, and oh God, did he scream, an animalistic cry stifled by the makeshift gag. My breath hitched at the sound. His back arched, straining against the bondage holding him firmly in place. Tears rolled from his bloodshot eyes and down the sides of his head past sparse chestnut hair. My pulse raced through my body, creating a familiar tightness in my pants. I pulled the knife out and held it up to the faint light where I could watch the blood trickle down its length.
“Wanna see?” I asked, dangling the knife over his face. He screwed his eyes tight shut as a few drops splashed against his cheek. “Where next, I wonder?”
Cutting was a new game to me. In the past, I stuck to playing with the body only after I had watched the life drain from their eyes and blood stream from their lacerated throats. But now, I needed something more. The old routine had become boring…stale. I needed more excitement. More blood. More screaming. I was no longer content with a mere reminder of their lives passing under my supervision. I needed to find my release as they found theirs.
Death was what I sought, what I craved. It was the ultimate release. But now I had the order right, a part of the learning process like experimenting with which parts to cut, and in what order, to produce the maximum amount of pain and terror. The greater the agony, the greater the climax when death finally came—and so did I.
I placed the inch-wide knife across his stomach and picked up the 35mm camera that hung around my neck to snap a few shots of the quivering mess laid out in front of me. Then I looked over the body, deciding on my next move. Nothing seemed quite as appealing as that first thrust, slicing deep into the soft skin of his small, wrinkled cock. Perhaps I was too eager in drawing out the first scream. Better to go back to something more basic and make it last longer.
A finger, perhaps? I moved toward his left hand, and he clenched his fist, straining against the tightly wrapped tape around his wrist. Even then he struggled against my efforts to pry open his little finger. Naked and bound, staring into the eyes of his executioner, his ferryman, and yet he fought and clung to life. With some difficulty, and a little coaxing from the blade, I managed to extend his narrow digit, the knife easily slicing the soft flesh around the middle joint and hitting the bone beneath. Blood welled to the surface in a steady trickle, pooling on the table beneath him. He screamed out his muffled cries as I labored vigorously to remove the stubborn finger, grinding my teeth at its refusal to budge. I stabbed the tip into the joint, working through the gristle as I made a mental note to expand my hardware collection. It gave with a pop that echoed the release of tension inside me, and a spurt of crimson splashed against the carbon steel blade. I picked up the finger and held it for him to see before placing it gently upon his sternum.
His chest rose and fell in short, rapid movements as I contemplated my next move. Blood flowed from the stump of his finger, seeping outward with every frantic beat of his heart. The severed digit pointed downward to the soft flesh of his stomach as if telling me where to cut next. The blade easily pierced it, a small incision of an inch or so. I placed the knife onto his stomach and slipped my finger into the warm hole, sending a shiver down my spine. I gasped, as I’m sure my playmate would also have done had he been able. My finger penetrated his new orifice, thrusting in and out, wiggling around inside the warm, squidgy cocoon that oozed dark blood with every movement. His body bucked as I slammed inside, his endless wailing reduced to a groan through the dirty, sweaty sock that filled his mouth. Even the violent shuddering of his body became nothing more than a weak shudder.
The need within me was slowly building, like an old kettle bubbling within until finally ready to blow its spout. With my free hand, I undid my fly. There was another piece of flesh that required my attention.
******************
Vince groaned, stretching his arms and legs out across the white sheets of his bed. I lay back down next to him after cleaning myself up, my leg draped over his and the palm of my left hand gently passing over his smooth skin, still damp with sweat.I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as my hand ventured down farther toward his firm, round ass. “I don’t think you’ve fully paid for your crimes, yet,” I whispered, his body shuddering against me as I pressed gently into his slick hole, the muscles clamping down on my finger.
He chuckled and turned his head to smirk at me. “What’s got you so horny today?”
“Nothing.” I pushed a second finger inside him, his hips rising to start fucking himself on my fingers. Withdrawing them, I rolled over on top of him, straddling his legs. My cock began to harden, rubbing between his cheeks. I leaned down to lock my lips around the juncture of his jaw and neck, biting down gently and drawing a long moan from his throat. “Hope you’ve got some more rubbers.”
“Middle drawer. I just stocked up, so we can go at it all day if you want.” He leered at me, lifting his hips to rub his ass against the underside of my dick.
“You think you can manage that?” I asked, standing and giving his left cheek a firm slap. He let out a surprised yelp, the smacking sound reverberating through the small room. “I’m not gonna be as gentle on you this time.”
“Who’s asking you to be gentle?”
I walked over to the chest of drawers and opened the middle drawer, rummaging under the layer of socks until my hand closed around a small box. Placing it onto the bed next to the bottle of lube, I retook my position above Vince, pressing my body flush against his.
“Tell me, Vince,” I whispered. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, Alex. Fuck me hard.”
My dick swelled, twitching with anticipation. “Yeah? You like my cock inside you, don’t you?”
Vince nodded, a small whimper passing his lips.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard…ram my cock all the way in. Wanna hear my balls slapping against you. Is that what you want?”
He grunted into the pillow, his fists clenching. “Yes. God, yes. Fuck me, Alex. Fuck me now.”
I opened the box of condoms, taking out one of the foil wrappers and began to tear it when a soft buzzing caught my attention.
“That better be a new toy I’m hearing,” Vince said with a groan.
My phone. “Shit. Hang on,” I said, clambering off the bed to search through the mound of clothes until I found my cell and flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Took your damn time. Wait, don’t tell me. You were with Vince, weren’t you? Spare me the details, okay? As much as I love you, Alex, I don’t need those kinda images scarring me for life.”
“Tanya. What’s up?” I sat down on the edge of the bed, doing my best to ignore Vince as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his hard cock against my spine.
“We got a name for our John Doe. Robert Pearson. His wife showed up at the station this morning to file a missing persons report. She ID’d the body about half an hour ago.”
“What do we know about him?” I asked, stifling a groan as Vince’s tongue began to circle my ear. I lifted my right hand to try and swat him away.
“Not a lot, yet. The wife hasn’t exactly been in a talkative mood. What we do know is that he was a pastor at one of the local churches. I’m doing a background check on him now, see if I can dig up any dirt on him.”
“Well, thanks for letting me know. You’ll call me as soon as you find anything, right?”
“Actually, the reason I was calling you is because we’re holding a meeting in about forty-five minutes. The lieutenant wants you there.”
“I don’t know why I bother trying to take days off,” I said with a sigh, then a grunt as Vince’s teeth bit down gently on the shell of my ear.
“That better not have been what I thought it was. Is Vince with you right now? Put me on speakerphone. I want a word with him.”
‘Tanya—”
“Alex, put me on speakerphone, or so help me God, I will whoop your ass, you hear me?”
I lifted the phone away from my ear and hit the speaker button. “Go ahead,” I said, and Vince looked at me in askance.
“All right, you listen here, Fairfield. I don’t know what kinda game you’re playing this time, but if you hurt Alex again, you’ll have me to deal with. I’ve got my eyes on you, okay?”
Vince grinned. “I’ll make sure to wear some tight jeans so you get a nice view.”
“And why would I wanna look at your skinny white ass?”
“Because it’s round, firm and has no tan lines. You can come have a close-up look if you want.”
There was a moment of silence. “I’m gonna just pretend you didn’t say that,” she ground out. “But remember, you’ve been warned. Now, put your dick away before I have to come around there and neuter you. I need to borrow Alex for a while. Official police business. You know how it is.”
“Sorry, Vince, but you heard the lady. I’ll be there as quick as I can. Don’t let them start without me, okay?”
Tanya laughed. “When have you ever known the lieutenant to wait for anyone? You’d best get your ass on over here.” The line went dead.
Daniel Alexander Kaine, born and raised in England, makes his living working as a customer service advisor.
Daniel started writing in 2009 to alleviate boredom while searching for employment. He started out writing a cheesy fanfic for his favourite anime, Naruto, in which he paired our hero with the gorgeous Sasuke in an Anita Blake-esque world of vampire hunting. To this day he still cringes at the memory of all that cheese... *shudders*
In 2010, Daniel finally worked up the courage to start writing an original story. Thus, the idea of the 'Daeva' series was born, and with the help of the NaNoWriMo boards the story became a reality.
Now Daniel has three novels and two short story out. He has many more stories in the works, and is working hard to avoid the pitchfork-brandishing horde who want the third Daeva book yesterday!
Being an out-and-proud gay man, Daniel's main characters often fall somewhere under the LGBT spectrum, though he does not limit himself solely to stories about gay romances.
When not writing, Daniel enjoys curling up with a good book, and a glass of Jack Daniels and coke. His favourite genres include fantasy of all kinds - particularly paranormal and urban fantasy - crime and M/M romance. He also has a fatal love for video games and can often be seen pretending to be a giant cow with super healing powers on World of Warcraft, saving the world from Russian ultranationalists on Call of Duty, or slaying dragons on Skyrim. He also collects and paints Warhammer 40k models. Outside of the house, he can be found bowling, canoeing and running.
EMAIL: daniel.kaine@gmail.com
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