Throughout my entire attempt to sleep, I had horrific nightmares mostly of the agents in the glass rooms and if I were to fail at job, I would be the next feeding victim. I know a decent chunk of the secrets and I can't be set free from this job. Not yet at least.
Every so often, I would toss and turn and then sit straight up, panting to catch my breath and sweating the coldest sweat the human body has ever produced. At my highest fear level, I would look down at Holly and kiss her forehead.
At one point she mumbled, "It'll get better Gregg, I swear."
I kissed her again and whispered, "I hope so, I truly hope so."
Off and on all night, I would hear creeks and pops as if the floor were speaking to me in the form of the shifting weight of someone's footsteps. I slept with my back to the small side of the room and my gun under my pillow. I would crack my eyes open every so often just to make sure no one was sneaking up on me.
Eventually morning came, I got up to take a piss and brush my teeth and to turn the dimmer switch on just a touch, just enough so it felt like we had a window and sun light was soaking through.
As I turn from the dimmer switch and face the bed, I see Holly lying there fully nude, the comforter only covering her legs. She on her side and her arm is compressing her breast together, making the already perfect pair even more perfect.
Of course, I slowly slide back into bed and begin to kiss from her neck to her breasts to her nipples down her side and all around her ass and pussy. She flips on her back slowly and opens her perfect thighs wide. I'll save you the details but four minutes later, after I nutted, I was ready to go back to sleep. It's called a quickie for a reason.
I folded my pillow in half and laid my head on it to prop up so I could watch the highlights of the games from last night. Holly scoots over and rests her head on my chest and puts her right arm around my slightly bulging stomach. My thoughts were running wild but the one that occurred more often than not was the fact that this chick was perfect. Absolutely perfect!
Knock, knock, knock. Of course, while I'm trying to rest after a wonderful orgasm someone needs either me or Holly.
A voice shouts out, "Mr. Burnsfield?"
I roll out of bed, still only in my boxers with post-cum damp spots all over, grab my weapon and crack the door. I use the door as shielding only exposing the slightest part of my head.
"What can I do for you champ?" I inquire.
"Sir, I was told to directly report to your office, I found it but you weren't there so I came here." Explains the soft voiced male visitor.
I chuckle, "Well go to my fucking office and wait, I'll be with you when I get there. Also, it's Lieutenant down here champ."
"Yes sir, yes sir, I'll see you in your office." He is obviously back stepping as he is speaking to me, a clear sign of weakness and/or fear.
I pull out a fresh pair of jeans and all that jazz and get dressed. Today I'm going to where my grey Redskins Polo and my Grey Redskins hat with my Grey Nikes, there's nothing like a good set of matching clothing.
I put on my shoulder strap, check my weapon and insert it into its holster. Now I'm ready to go to work. I lean in and kiss Holly and just hold her for a long few minutes because it's hard to leave something that beautiful.
I turn and enter my office, "Alrighty Champ, what's on your mind?"
Nervously he responds, "Sir, I am the grief counselor and advisor for the entire division down here. I want to speak to you about what happened yesterday." Little champ adjusts his glasses as he nervously squirms in his chair.
I lean back, my chair yells out with a dramatic screech, "What the fuck? A grief counselor and advisor, like a spiritual advisor?"
"Well, sure, you could call me a spiritual advisor, I suppose." Champ is in here to tell me about right and wrong and god and the devil?
"Champ, listen…you don't mind if I call you Champ do you?" I'm going to call this prick Champ no matter what so it doesn't matter his response.
"Well…" He tries to inject.
"No, good. Champ listen. What happened down here yesterday was the most fucked up thing I have ever seen in my life, but if you're in here right now to try to talk some god or some devil that are in some religious battle for the control of earth and its entire people then you've lost what little mind you thought you had." I kept a straight face for that one because I wanted to invoke my inner seriousness on him.
"Lieutenant, that's….umm…that's fine. I just thought it may have been too much too quick for you. Plus I saw the tape, when you entered Mr. Gacy's area to help him. I just wanted to make sure you're ok and the strain on you emotionally wasn't too much to handle." He adjusts his glasses again, maybe out of nervousness or maybe because he's fucking retarded and doesn't know how to wear his glasses properly.
I reach out and snatch his glasses from his face, "Listen up, you have two options. Give me a Blowjob right now or get the fuck out of my office." I pulled my pussy juice covered dick out and stood up.
Champ stands up and walks towards me, takes a knee right in front of my body. My dick is literally hanging close enough to touch the tip of his nose. Obviously, I'm fully appalled by this; I snatch that little bitch up by his little plaid vest and toss him out of my office and on to the floor.
As I'm tucking my dick away I yell, "Don't you ever come in my office, near my person or anywhere I may have been in the last fifteen minutes!" I turn and slam my door, and sit at my desk which, if you remember, is facing the wall.
Someone has placed some files on my desk, three large files. Each one is labeled numerically, one, two and three. One is Dahmer's file, two is Gacy's file and three is Rader's file. I crack the first file and skim it quickly, every police report, every picture, every victim, everything I would and will need to know about Jeffy is in this file. I assume the same for the next two files so I store them in my desk without browsing through the sadness and torture they have inflicted on others and had inflicted on themselves.
Just like the fact that porn stars are usually molested at a young age, serial killers are also fucked up at young age too. Mommy issues, daddy issues, society issues, acceptance issues, world issues. It's actually a very ease mental map to follow. You can practically make a potential serial killer list based on those few issues.
I exit my office and head to The Boss's door. I knock but it was one of those enter while knocking knocks.
My eyes couldn't believe the mental image they had to deliver to my brain, "Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Boss god damnit, shit, I'm so sorry. Fuck." I backed out and closed the door. He was rubbing one out to fucking dude porn.
"Motherfucker, get the fuck back in here!" He is in the process of tucking his dick away and jamming super gay dude monthly magazine into his desk drawer.
The Boss rises from his chair as I stumble into the other chair. He grabs me by the buttons of my polo with the same hand he was jerking with, "Is that Jergins or Coco Butter?" I couldn't resist.
I push his hand away from me and he seems like he wants to punch me, punch me right in my face. It was genuine rage I was seeing in this man's eyes. I just smiled at him as he went back around to his chair, he's obviously embarrassed.
"Gregg, what the fuck is wrong with you? Seriously?" The anger in his voice was very apparent.
Before I could answer, a visitor arrives. It was Councilor Champ!
"Champ, what the fuck did I just tell you!?" I yell out, trying my best not to laugh because this shit is getting very weird around here.
Champ looks at me and looks away real quick, kinda like an eye fuck, "Boss, this…this man, he threw me out of his office, literally. He yelled at me and he won't stop calling me Champ."
"Guess what? You are officially named Champ, Councilor Champ. Go try to suck Mills dick or something." The Boss was in no fucking mood for this whiny bitch.
With a deep gasp, "You told him about that Gregg?"
"Nope, but you just did you gay bitch!" I pointed and laughed my ass off!
The Boss, realizing this whole jerking incident could go away, quickly replies, "What? You trying to really suck dicks around here, what did I tell you about that Councilor Champ? God damnit, go to your own office and try not to suck your own dick please!"
"You done with me boss, I was just coming in because I wanted to ask for something, that's all." I started to stand up so I could exit and let him finish staring at Mr. Magic Mike.
Frustratedly or maybe exhaustedly he asks, "What is it?"
"I want a bowflex for my office. Can you get me one or what do I have to do to get one?" I raise my arms up and flex for him like it was going to blow his mind but I was really trying to emphasis my point my showing my average sized peewee arms.
"Why didn't you just tell Holly to get you one? Jesus, she takes care of that shit. Get the fuck out of my office. If you need me, go find someone else!" That made no sense but I stand and exit anyways.
I go visit my baby at her desk and she instantly puts in an order for the most expensive bowflex machines there is. I kiss her and as I turn to walk away I tell her, "Today, I'm going to get to know Dahmer and Rader. Then I'll be well acquainted with the agents and hopefully the shear horror and terror of them doesn't dilute my ability to control them."
"Good luck!" She chuckles, Holly as dealt with Dahmer many times but only once with Rader, she's too close to his type.