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I knock on the door and wait patiently, gripping the heavy duffel bag by its strap. The door opens, and I'm greeted by the sight of Alyssa, the cute barista I exchanged contact info with earlier in the day. The sheer, almost see through fabric of her dress cannot conceal the sensual curves of her body, and I feel my heart rate go up a tick.

"You look stunning, Alyssa".

She blushes and smiles, beckoning me in to her apartment. I follow, admiring her beautifully formed ass wiggling as she walked.

The central living room is bare, save for a plastic sheet covering the hardwood, and a videocamera on a tripod in the corner.

"Did you bring the gear?"

I drop the duffel bag on the floor, get on my knees, and pull the zipper open. The cold sheen of a sword winks at me as I retrieve it. Alyssa stares at the blade, her eyes wide. "It's beautiful", she whispers.

"Not as beautiful as the woman in front of me"

My hand grabs hers as I pull her in for a deep kiss, savouring her sweet feminine taste. She closes her eyes, and I feel her hand on my crotch, massaging my already semi-erect penis. I can feel her breasts squeeze against my chest as she wriggles out of her nightgown.

With a giggle, she pulls me down onto the sheet, pulling down my pants. We join together, squeezing each others bodies in a heated, sweaty embrace. Her vag is tight and wet and hot, it holds onto my penis with the grip of a woman who knows its her last day on earth. I finally come, gasping together with Alyssa as we hold each other close.

After a while, she rises up.

"Now", she says, dreamily. "It's time."

I get up, grab the sword off the floor and look at Alyssa. She kneels in front of me, her delicate hands and long, slender legs folding primly. The videocamera observes impartially.

I give the sword a few test swings, getting a feel for its weight, its balance, and perhaps giving Alyssa time to back out.

Finally, I ask her one last time. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She looks at me, her blue eyes bright and shiny, her face flushed.

"Yes."

"Lean forward a bit more, more, there, perfect".

I raise the sword, look at the gentle arch of her pale neck, the nape of her neck, a few tufts of golden blonde hair sticking out, the pendulous movement of her breasts. She exhales, and I bring the sword down.

A wet meaty sound echoes in the living room.

It was a perfect strike, the sword coming in perfectly between her C2 and C3 vertebrae. Twin streams of arterial blood spray forth as her head rolls forward, her naked form slumping forward in a limp mass.

I grab her head off the floor and look into her face. Alyssa is still there, her blue eyes wandering, soft lips parted in wonderment. And then her eyelids droop and close, and I know she's gone, her soul departed.
Name: Marcy
Age: 18
Personality: Sheltered, innocent, naive, believes in the good of people, a freshman at a state college
Appearance: See image
Apparel: See image
Consent: None
Type of Death: Murder
Setting: Tricked into being the unwilling participant of a snuff tape