I drive up to the house. No soul walks but me. I had taken out all the lights of the vehicle and had painted it black. In case someone did see, I had removed the license plate. I take my sword from the back and exit the car without the internal lights coming on.
I move through the yard as I circle the house. No signs of cameras or other security devices. I walk to the back door and pull out my screwdriver to dismantle the door handle. I enter the house and immediately hear rapid pounding like animal feet. I pull the switch on my weapon and move to stand beside the kitchen door.
A little dachshund trots by and stops to inspect the room. I slowly raise the weapon and stab it into the spine in the neck. It flails and is helpless from the electricity. I wait a few minutes to enjoy the moment and make sure it didn’t survive. If it did, everything would be ruined.
It leapt away and whelped as soon as I withdrew the tip. I slash at it, but he runs under the table. I fall on floor and thrust at it, hitting the leg. It wimpers and lies in a blood as I stab the blade into its head. The wet brain fries and this time it dies.
I hear someone running. I run to the door, grab the frame, and swing around to stab the sword right into the father’s mouth. I pull the blade out with blood and vomit. Before he can get oriented, I slash his neck. I hit the wound again, striking the spine. I hack at him again and sever the spine.
I run over his falling body stab the curious mother in the forehead. She shakes violently as I kick her off and run around the corner. I twist to knock the daughter down with my shoulder. I point the tip at her. “Get up”
I march her backwards into her room and I kick the door shut. “Strip” she just stares at me horrified. “Strip!” I grab her shirt and thrash her. She screams so I uppercut her jaw, knocking her over. I turn off the power and place the blade on her face, and my foot on her loin. I rip off her shirt, then shift my foot so I could rip off her pants. I can’t rip the elastic of her undergarments.
I step off her and she leans up on her arms. “I said get naked, bitch!” she stands and pulls her bra over her head. She stares at me in horror and humiliation. I point the tip at her and she shoves her panties down and steps out of them. I advance and circle her, always keeping the blade pointed at her. I study her nipples, ass, and crotch. Her form is good. She weeps the whole time.
I grab a torn garment and tie it tightly around her mouth. I grab her under my arm and run out of the run. I thrust the tip into her moaning mother thus ending her life. The daughter’s scream is muffled. “Help me place her body on his.” and I throw her. She helps me carry her, then drops to her knees when we drop the body.
She sits there and weeps as I place the dog’s body on the pile, then cover it all with bed sheets. I pull out a water bottle and pour the gas on the pile. I light a match and throw it on the pile. She screams as I grab her under my arm again. I throw a few more matches on the fire and run out of the house. I charge around front and leap into the open door of the car. I drive off before smoke even appears, and long before a soul finds it.
The police assumed that one of the family members killed the rest, then burned himself with them. The bodys are too damaged to determine that they all weren’t there. This is the same story with my other sex slaves in my hidden basement.