Obsession (Raven’s Vale Psychos #1

Chapter Five

Riot

I snapped awake, darkness still permeating the room. The sheets tangled around me, and I kicked them off. My heart pounded against my ribs with every inhale, every exhale. In that liminal space between sleep and consciousness, two faces warred for dominion in my mind: Crash’s sneering countenance, Kane’s implacable stare.

Torn between friendship and… something else. Crash and Kane had been my family for more than a decade. But then there was her -- Hollis. She stirred something in me, something dormant and dangerous. Until Hollis, all I’d needed was the thrill of the hunt, the tang of blood in the air. I’d gotten off on watching the life fade from the eyes of the men and women I slaughtered. Now I wanted something more.

“Damnit,” I muttered to myself. I sat up on the edge of the bed, my muscles tense and ready for whatever may come. Didn’t matter that I was inside the mansion, a place no one would dare enter without our permission. Some behaviors could never be unlearned.

Her breathing was steady, rhythmic. Hollis. My captive. My… what? Not a victim. Never just a victim. She was a challenge, a puzzle box with a heart inside, beating just for me. Or so I told myself during those moments when the craving surged through my veins like wildfire.

I prowled over to where she lay, restrained. Her eyes fluttered open, wide and wary like a deer caught in the hunter’s sights.

“Morning, dollface,” I said, relishing the fear that danced across her features. “Sleep well?”

“Riot,” she said softly. My name on her lips was a curse and a prayer all at once. I could tell she might hate me, but she also wanted me.

“Shh.” I bent close enough for her to feel the threat of me, the heat rolling off my skin. “Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

She recoiled slightly, but something in her gaze held steady. Brave little bird. I could crush her, yet she dared to meet my gaze head-on.

“Remember who keeps you alive.” I traced a line down her cheek, almost tender if not for the clawing need to dominate that thrummed through me. “Who your world belongs to.”

“You,” she said, the single word a tangle of resignation and something that didn’t belong in the cage I’d built for her.

“Good girl,” I praised with a smirk. “Don’t forget it.”

I studied her, the way she looked at me -- not just with fear, but with an unsettling curiosity. She was my enigma, wrapped in chains of my own making, yet somehow holding a key I couldn’t quite see. I wasn’t sure who I would be once I’d finished with Hollis. In my gut, I knew she was going to change me, even if I didn’t realize how just yet.

“Today’s going to be fun,” I promised. “For me, at least.”

And with that, I left her to stew in the room that was her prison -- and mine.

I returned to Hollis with a leather restraint in hand. I moved her to the bed, fastening the cuffs around her wrists again. She looked… beautiful. The mix of fear and anticipation in her eyes made me eager for what would come next. “You’re not going to like this.”

“Please, Riot… Don’t hurt me.”

“Shut up,” I snapped, my tone sharp and unforgiving. My hands were steady as I checked the shackles around her wrists.

“Is this necessary?” she whispered, her eyes searching mine for an ounce of mercy.

“Everything I do is necessary,” I said. For a moment, I allowed myself to brush my fingers against her arm, almost a caress, before I recoiled, disgusted with the weakness that surged within me. When it came to Hollis, I felt conflicted.

“Please… don’t,” she pleaded.

“Can’t help it, doll,” I said. “This is who I am.”

“Who you think you have to be,” she corrected. “There’s more to you than this, and you know it, Riot.”

“Silence!” I barked, my hand involuntarily flexing into a fist. Her bravery was a thorn in my side, and my desire to break her mingled with an infuriating urge to protect her.

“Riot, you can be more. You are more.”

“Enough! You know nothing about me. You think reading a few journals means you know everything? You don’t know shit!”

“Then show me. I want to know who you are. The real you.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” I warned, my voice low and threatening. The weight of my body pressed her into the mattress as I secured her ankles with leather straps, the finality of her captivity sending a rush of power through my veins. “You might just get it.”

She went still beneath me, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. In that instant, something unspoken passed between us.

I stood back, observing my handiwork. My heart thrummed with a sick satisfaction, yet the echo of her words haunted me. Then show me. What a cruel joke -- the monster and the maiden, caught in a battle neither of us might survive.

“Get some rest,” I said, my voice a cruel mimicry of tenderness. “You’ll need it.”

With those final words hanging between us, I turned on my heel and left her alone, confined and vulnerable. Each step away felt like tearing flesh from bone -- agonizing, yet impossible to stop.

I stormed out of the mansion and sought to silence the monsters whispering in my mind. It didn’t take long for me to find someone who’d dared to wander into a darkened alley. Walking up behind the woman, I sank my blade into her side. She cried out, falling to the ground. Rolling to her back, she stared at me, eyes filled with terror.

“Please! Don’t kill me,” she pleaded.

I felt… nothing. Why did I want to spare Hollis, but not this woman? My gaze scanned her body, and I didn’t feel so much as a twinge of attraction for her. Kneeling over her, I pinned her wrists over her head with one hand, while I sliced the skin of her breasts, belly, and arms with my knife. After I’d made her a bloody mess, I slit her throat, and let her bleed out.

I prowled the streets a little longer but didn’t find another victim. Returning to the mansion, I went straight to my room, and Hollis.

I sat on the edge of my bed, the darkness clinging to me like a second skin. Could Hollis peer into my soul, see the maelstrom within, and not flinch? The thought gnawed at my insides, a hunger for something more than fear in her eyes.

Can you really understand what I am? My hands clenched, the memory of her warmth under my grip still fresh. Could you accept this… beast?

A laugh ripped from my lips, bitter and sharp. Acceptance was a fairy tale, and I was no prince. No, there wasn’t a point in asking my questions. I no doubt wouldn’t like her answer, and then I might actually kill her.

The bed creaked as I leaned toward her, a predator closing in. She lay there, restrained, yet defiance sparked in her gaze. It was intoxicating -- a challenge.

“Comfortable?” I asked, looming over her.

“Go to hell,” she said, glancing away.

I grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “You’re already there, sweetheart. Might as well embrace the darkness. It’s all you’re going to know from now until the day you die.”

Hollis tried to jerk away, but I was an immovable force. “I decide when you sleep, when you eat, if you scream.”

“Riot --” she began, a plea lurking beneath her bravado.

“Shut up.” I cut her off, my tone leaving no room for argument. I tightened my hold, relishing the power that surged through me. This was my world, and she was just living in it -- by my rules.

“Remember this. You are mine to command.”

“I hate you.”

“Good,” I replied, a sadistic smirk playing on my lips. The hatred was easier to take than the possibility of something deeper.

Releasing her, I stepped back, watching the resolve in her eyes war with the fear. It was a dance I knew well, one that kept me on the razor’s edge between man and monster. Not the fear, but desire… Usually it was a thirst for blood, but with Hollis, I wanted more. Fear was something I only recognized by looking into the eyes of my victims. Since I’d been a child, locked in a horror show of my parents’ making, I’d never allowed myself to feel that emotion again. I’d carved it out of my soul with my first kill. But as I turned to leave, the smallest crack in my armor appeared, a sliver of doubt that maybe, just maybe, she could see the human behind the horror.

The room stank of fear and sweat. Her eyes, wide as saucers, followed every one of my movements. I could feel the beast within licking its chops, eager for the game.

“Let’s see how much you can take.”

“Riot, please.” She whimpered, only fueling my need to dominate, to control.

“Silence.” I gripped my knife. A different one than I’d used to kill the other woman. I traced the blade along her skin. A lover’s caress entwined with terror. I pressed just enough to make her flinch, to let her feel the bite without drawing blood -- yet.

“Does it scare you?” I asked, my tone deceptively soft, watching her struggle against the restraints. “Knowing I can cut you open anytime I want? Strip the skin from your bones. Tear out your still beating heart.”

She nodded, tears pooling in those damned eyes that saw too much. I hated that they made me pause, made me question. Made me… want.

Inside, a war raged. Every second with her, the lines blurred -- the killer and the man. Merging. Conflicting. I couldn’t afford to be soft, not in this world, not when it could mean death. Crash and Kane were right to worry. If they thought for one second that Hollis had changed me, they’d either kill her, or do their best to end me.

“Then remember this fear,” I demanded, letting the knife hover over her heart. “It’s what keeps you alive.”

But as I watched her chest rise and fall with panicked breaths, a gnawing ache filled me. A whisper that maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than the rush of power, more than the satisfaction of her submission. Although it was certainly delicious.

I pulled the knife away, and I stepped back, a predator robbed of his kill by his own confusing desires. When it came to her, I might enjoy the terror in her eyes, but I didn’t want to slaughter her like I did so many others. No, I found it much more thrilling to fill her with my cock and make her beg for something other than death.

“Remember who owns you, Hollis.” I despised the emotions swirling within me. Emotions had no place in my world, no place where brutality ruled supreme. But there she was, a crack in my armor.

Stripping out of my clothes, I covered her body with mine. She didn’t tense or pull away. In her eyes, I saw nothing but acceptance.

She was mine, and I intended to take her in every way possible.

I reached down and roughly fondled her breast, pinching the hardened nipple between my fingers. She whimpered, her pupils dilating with desire. She was mine to torment and pleasure. I ground my hips against her, making sure she could feel how much I wanted her.

My mouth crushed against hers, fingers tangled in her hair as I forced my tongue deep into her mouth. She moaned, her body arching up to meet mine. I slid my hand down her stomach, tracing the contours of her ribcage before dipping between her legs. She was wet, soaking with need.

I pushed my finger inside her, filling her slowly, watching as she squirmed underneath me.

“Tell me how much you want this,” I demanded, my voice husky with lust.

“I want you to fuck me hard,” she panted, her breath hot against my ear. I pulled my finger free and pushed my thick cock against her wet pussy, feeling the heat of her body surrounding me.

“Do you remember your place, Hollis?” I asked, my voice low and menacing. She shook her head, eyes wide with fear and need. I thrust into her, hard and rough.

“Say my name,” I ordered, pulling her hair sharply. She cried out, arching her back as I pounded into her.

“Please… Riot…” She trembled, and I let out a growl of approval, grabbing her throat and thrusting even deeper.

“That’s better.” I began to move faster, slamming into her over and over again, feeling her tight walls clench around me. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

I groaned and leaned down to bite into her shoulder. She whimpered, pulling on the cuffs that bound her wrists above her head.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. I had complete control over her body and mind. No matter what I did to her, she still wanted me.

With one final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, groaning as I felt her walls pulsate around me and I filled her with cum. I collapsed on top of her, panting heavily as we both caught our breath.

“That,” I whispered, leaning in to nip at her neck, “was a reminder you belong to me.”

“Riot?” she said softly, a question in her eyes that probed at the raw edges of my soul.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like I’m more than this. I’m not going to give you flowers. Take you out on dates. Give you some fantasy happy ever after.”

“Maybe you are more.” Her fingers flexed and I could tell she wanted to reach for me. If she touched me right now, I wasn’t sure what would happen.

“Enough! Remember your place,” I snarled, every muscle coiled tight.

“Riot --” she started, but I cut her off with a glare that could freeze hell over.

“Don’t say my name like it means something to you,” I warned, steel lacing my words.

“Understood,” she whispered, her defiance bleeding out, and leaving vulnerability in its wake.

“Good.” I got off the bed and took a step back, my eyes never leaving hers. Setting her free, I pointed to the bathroom, allowing her to relieve herself. Once she came back, I secured her again. She hadn’t earned the right to roam free.

“Tomorrow, we start again. I can’t trust you to roam freely in this room until I’m certain you know you’re mine.”

With one last look, I turned on my heel and strode to the door.

I didn’t look back. I never did.

The door shut with a definitive click, echoing through the silent house. I stood outside, chest heaving slightly, the rush of exerting power still coursing through my veins. But it was always followed by the quiet, by the whispers of doubt that crept in like fog.

She was strong. Stronger than she had any right to be under my grip. Every time I left her, every time I turned my back, I felt it -- the pull, the Goddamn connection that shouldn’t have been there. Was she getting under my skin? Or was I finally seeing myself in someone else’s eyes?

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, shaking off the thoughts.

But they clung to me, persistent as shadows at dusk. I stalked down the hallway, needing to put some distance between us.

The air felt heavier. My thoughts were a battleground, a war between what I wanted and what I needed to do.

I stopped dead in my tracks, slamming my fist into the wall beside me. The plaster cracked under the impact, a spiderweb of destruction that mirrored the fractures in my composure.

Get it together. You’re letting a woman get under your skin.

She was supposed to be nothing more than a pawn, a plaything to amuse me until I killed her like all the others. But when she looked at me, those eyes didn’t just see the blood on my hands -- they saw through the red, into the blackened heart I wasn’t sure I possessed anymore.

A laugh, dark and humorless, scraped its way out of my throat. What a fucking joke. Me, Riot Tredway, “The Butcher” of Raven’s Vale, caught in a snare of his own making -- with threads as fine as her hair and as strong as her spirit.

“Tomorrow everything changes,” I muttered to myself.

With that, I walked away, needing as much distance between us as possible.