FRIDAY

I had watched the lecture as my physically identical clone had been disemboweled and, to my surprise, I realized it had excited me to watch my own body give into a violent, painful death. I had imagined it actually being me. Just the thought of feeling my life snuffed out had made me physically tremble, my stomach fill with butterflies, and wetness spread between my legs.

I had been thinking about it during lab, the day that I had first felt the life drain out of a body just beneath my fingertips. I had imagined it being me whose senses that were filling with cold pain just before they ceased being forever, and I had nearly come from the vibrations of the struggling body that was between my legs. I almost asked the young man I was paired up with to strangle me then and there, but I had restrained myself. I wanted my demise to be just right.

As I sat in class daydreaming about the many ways my fragile life could be abruptly ended, I realized Dr. R was handing out our next homework assignment.

"This one will be a treat. I've never had a class do this before. Each of you will have a created that will be an almost exact representation of yourself. Your assignment will be to kill yourself, or at least, the clone that is living your life. Hopefully it will allow you to gain a better understanding of what the victim goes through during a murder."

It was in this moment, reading the assignment, that an idea began forming in my mind. Over the past few weeks, a dark compulsion had been growing inside me. That visceral pleasure I had gotten out of killing the clone had been seared in my mind and body.

I still vividly remembered the night after the lab. I remembered the school girl, walking home alone after dark through my neighborhood. It had been all too easy to catch her off guard and drag her, an extension cord wrapped tightly around her throat, behind my house. Writhing in the dirt, the thin brunette in her school uniform blue blazer and miniskirt had put up quite a fight, but she had been inevitably doomed. Once safely out of sight, I forwent the cord and used my hands, pressing my thumbs into the girl's throat, sealing off her trachea just as I had learned in lab. Without air, it had taken only a few seconds for the teenager's body to give in, her life ending with a small shudder. The image of the night sky reflected in light brown eyes, void and staring blankly up into space, was seared in my mind.

I had dragged the body inside, stripped it of the school uniform, and then pushed the heavy head up between my legs. My wet covered the girl's soft, pale lips as I rubbed my vulva against the her mouth and imagined my own corpse used and violated. Then, I pressed the dead girl's cold, stiff fingers deep into my vagina, and, rubbing my free hand over the cool, smooth skin of her abdomen, I came. I had slept with the corpse in my bed that night, wanting to enjoy every last minute I could with the body.

Even though I had gained immense pleasure out of the experience, I knew what I had done was wrong, and had been contemplating suicide ever since. I wanted what I deserved. Now, presented with this assignment, I knew the perfect way for my life to come to an end.

SATURDAY

My clone had been sitting in the plain white processing room when I finally found her that morning. She had yet to be conditioned with my memories, which would have been edited and modified to make her more conducive for my Victimology assignment. The night before, I had used the school laboratory equipment to extract my own memories and switched them out with the ones the clone was supposed to have received from my professor. I had modified the memories slightly. The clone now believed me to be the clone and herself to be the one assigned to kill me.

The assignment would be completed that evening, leaving only a few hours to prepare for what was to come.

The clock read 8 PM and everything so far seemed normal. I had put on my favorite underwear, a pink lace thong, and other than that was only wearing the white button down blouse I had worn to school. I was sitting alone in my room when the power went out. I knew what was coming but still felt a twinge of fear in the pit of my stomach. However, the fear quickly mingled with excitement as adrenaline began rushing into my system. I tentatively stepped out into the dark hallway and saw a dark shadow at the end. I knew it was my clone, dressed in a dark hoodie and loose cargo pants.

"Who are you?" I asked, playing the part of the unaware victim and backing slowly back into my room. I wanted to draw this out. Without a reply the clone strode toward me, following me into the room and cornering me next to my bed.

I could feel myself getting wet, and my fingertips were shaking. The clone closed the distance between me and I let her pin me against the wall. Identical bodies pressed together, I felt her hands move up over my breasts, tear open my shirt, and then move in around my throat. It was only as her hands were sealing off my windpipe that I had second thoughts, but by then it was already too late. My hands automatically shot up to my throat, and my fingers tried to pry away at her firm grip to no avail.

I let myself embrace the sensation of suffocation, and I yearned for something inside me. I wanted to scream out in pain and pleasure. I needed release. She yanked me around and shoved my backward onto the bed, letting go for just a moment. My throat was swollen and painful as I coughed. I backpedaled away from her into the corner, kicking away the sheets on my bed, but she grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me back roughly toward her.

She climbed on top with her legs firmly holding my down. She gripped the hair at the top of my head and pulled my head back with one hand and then used the other hand to continue strangling me. My head ached and pounded, and I could feel my face growing hot with blood as she sealed off my jugular veins.

She disentangled her hand from my hair, and ran it down the center of my abdomen and then into the gap between my legs. She pulled my panties aside and shoved three fingers up into my vagina; a gurgle came from the back of my throat in place of a moan. She rhythmically drove her fingers deeper and deeper with each thrust, until my toes curled, my legs spread, and my abs undulated as I came.

For a moment I was lost in euphoria, but it was short lived. I tried to draw a breath, but my diaphragm only fluttered and my lungs burned for air. The orgasm had left me feeling hollow and weak, and pain tore into my mind as she crushed my throat. I was fading fast. With one final, painful throb, I felt my heart give out, and all my muscles went limp, leaving my limbs heavy and immobile. My vision blurred and I felt warm urine dribbling out from between my legs, and soaking into my underwear. Her hands relaxed their grip on my broken throat. Then, all I could feel was a creeping cold and pinpricks as numbness set in. My vision faded to black, and icy pain ripped through my head as billions of neurons in my brain died every second.

Fingers twitched as her final struggle came to an end. A cold, still body was all that was left.

The next day, Giselle is in class as normal, sitting next to the young man that had helped her make her first kill. No one is any the wiser.