Memories

He stood over the naked body as his hands gently cursed the curves ever so gently. He believed that she would be the woman to turn him to his true self and not what he had changed to in the past few years.

His hands felt the inside of her legs until it reached her crotch where he carefully inserted and made the woman smile with delight.
There was a very strange thing with this relationship, the man that was now deeply inside her always reminded her of her father and now of all times was not the best time to be reminded of such thoughts. She quickly stood up just as he made a final thrust. Her memories had come flooding back. She remembered each Saturday night from when she was 6 years old until she was 17, right up until the day she left. Each Saturday night her father would creep into her bedroom and whisper in her ear, “this is it, the day you will become a woman” He said this each time
However on this particular night she remembered back to when she was a very young child and her father raped her for the first time, the times that she bled as she seduced her in her pink covers of her gently lit room. Later in life she learnt that each time her mother would sit down stairs and turn up the tv so not to hear the nightmares being brought to life by her husband on her child.
The woman now of early 20’s had just got her life together, had just once again started to trust men. She got herself into a relationship, this made her happy, for the first time since she was 5. However the relationship had gone horribly wrong on the night that the couple had decided to sleep with each other. The memories that she had tried so hard to forget had all come flooding back to her.
As she grabed her clothes and fled from the room she found herself crying in the corridor. The man who was now laid exhausted on the bed didn’t care where she had gone and if she was going to come back, he had got what he wanted from her. However even so he got dressed and ventured out of his apartment to try and find her, and find her he did. Curled up in a half dressed ball at the bottom of some stairs in floods of tears. He took her back to his flat where he comforted her. she explained why she had fled. The stories of her father. The only problem was that this relit the flames in the mans eyes that had been put out by love for this woman.
He bit down on his lip so hard that he began to bleed, he did this to try and stop his anger but it was no good, the flames had been relit.
He left the woman sleeping on his bed and crept into the kitchen where he lifted up floor boards and pulled out the knife that the F.B.I would have loved to been able to get there hands on.
He walked back into the bedroom where for a few moments he observed her sleeping. Not liking his prey unable to see what they are about to receive. He shook her until she awoke unsure of why he had awoken her. He just simply looked and her and smiled as he raised the knife above his head and started to whisper the hail Mary. He said this as shoved the knife between her breasts and listened to her scream as if it was music to his ears. He didn’t stab her again, instead he just waited for the blood to pour out, and for her to take her last gasp of air.
He know stood over a red stained bed with a red stained naked woman lying spread out across the bed. He just smiled again and started to do what he had done earlier in the night but this time he intended to finish properly.

This is a short story, from the responce i get i might right the ending to it.