Obsession (Raven’s Vale Psychos #1

Chapter Eight

Hollis

The cold bit into my skin as we prowled the streets of Raven’s Vale, the night cloaking us in its sinister embrace. Riot moved with a predatory grace beside me, each step measured. Deliberate. A silent promise of the havoc he could wreak.

“Enjoying our evening out, Hollis?” he murmured.

“Thrilled,” I lied, the word coming out more breathless than I intended. The darkness wasn’t just around us. It began to seep inside, making itself at home in the pit of my stomach. I had a really bad feeling about why we were out here. He hadn’t outright said anything, except that I needed to prove myself.

We turned a corner, and the sight of Raven’s Vale’s desolation sharpened. Buildings were deteriorating, their windows shattered or boarded up. Then we reached an alley, dimly lit by a flickering streetlamp that fought a losing battle against the encroaching shadows.

Riot halted, his gaze locking onto something -- or someone -- huddled against the grimy brick wall. A figure, shivering, trying and failing to melt into the darkness.

“See that piece of shit?” Riot’s whisper cut through the silence, his lips twisting into a cruel smile. “Scum like that… they think the dark can hide them. But it can’t -- not from me.”

“Who are they?” My voice was steady, but inside, it felt like I was caught in a maelstrom.

“Doesn’t matter who they were.” Riot’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light. “It’s about what they’ve done. Thief, liar, cheat. Name your sin. Most people in this fucked-up town have rolled in it like a pig in shit.”

A strange surge of anticipation coursed through me as I watched him, the dark maestro ready to orchestrate another round of terror. It was wrong, all shades of fucked up, but I couldn’t deny the pull, the allure of what might happen next.

“Ready to see how deep the rabbit hole goes, Hollis?” He didn’t wait for an answer, certain of his power, confident in the sway he held over me.

In the darkest corners of my mind, I knew I was lost to him. Whatever he demanded, I’d do without question. Riot might not be the gentlest man, but he’d given me more than anyone ever had. He wanted me. Desired me and only me. When would I ever find that again? And part of me hoped that maybe I could help him find at least some of his humanity. Although, there were times I wasn’t sure he had any left.

Riot’s bulk shielded me from the pale glow of the streetlamp as he gestured with a hand. “Move quiet. You need to be precise. Killing isn’t about strength, it’s about being smart and stealthy.”

I held his gaze, wondering if I had what it took to do this, to walk by his side. The last time I’d been terrified, and it still felt like something I’d never get over. Could I possibly do it again? Or would I lose some part of myself in the process?

He leaned down and whispered low. “Find your inner darkness, Hollis. Let yourself be free. No constraints from the law. Toss your morality out the window. None of it matters here in Raven’s Vale. Especially not when you’re with me.”

I nodded, more to myself than to him, feeling the cold kiss of the night air against my flushed skin. I edged forward, inch by painstaking inch, the rough brickwork of the alley’s wall scraping against my palms.

“Remember, the slightest sound and your prey will run,” Riot continued, his words laced with encouragement. “You’re the predator here, not them. Let that sink into your bones. You are the one in charge, and you’ll take what you want.”

My breaths came shallow and fast, every inhalation a shuddering gasp as I closed the distance between myself and the quivering figure before me. The scent of fear was ripe, mixing with the metallic tang of anticipation on my tongue. My fingers twitched. Was I actually excited about this?

“Good… good,” Riot murmured, his presence lurking behind me like an extension of my own shadow -- or perhaps it was more accurate to say I was an extension of his. “Now, make them feel the terror they’ve dealt in spades. It’s time, Hollis. Do it.”

I sprang, aiming for the man. Riot’s teachings, his dark whispers, fueled my every muscle. The victim before me remained unaware, an unsuspecting lamb to my wolf. Maybe I was more of a wolf pup being taught how to hunt.

I knocked him flat, and gripped his throat with my hands, choking him into submission. He tried to buck me off, but I clung to him, refusing to back down. If I failed, I wasn’t sure how Riot would react.

My sexy psycho placed a knife in my hand, and I jabbed it into the man’s side -- quick, no hesitation -- just like he said.

“Fuck, yes!” His approval washed over me like a perverse benediction.

A warped euphoria surged within me, dark and addictive. I was the predator this time. For so many years, I’d been prey. Not only to Riot, but to anyone stronger than me in Raven’s Vale.

I could feel Riot watching my every move. A teacher observing his student. Blood rushed in my ears. It felt like the person I used to be was leaving me in a rush, just like the blood of the man I’d stabbed. I was Riot’s creation now, a reflection of his own monstrous heart. Each move was deliberate as I slashed and stabbed the man again and again.

His blood spattered the walls and myself, coating my hands and bathing the knife in red.

“Beautiful,” Riot murmured. I knew, with a clarity that shattered the final pieces of my old self, I had crossed into his world -- a place where love and murder were inseparable, and eternal.

I was no longer the Hollis Crane who trembled in the shadows. Now I was the creature Riot had unearthed from within the grave of my former self.

“Fucking perfect,” Riot said. His eyes were alight with a fervor that only the sight of blood could invoke. He watched as I became the very monster he’d envisioned, his masterpiece wrought in flesh and fear.

“Let it out, Hollis. Unleash all the pain from your past,” he urged.

I obeyed, my actions painting crimson strokes on the alley, my personal canvas. Each scream that tore from the man’s throat fueled my desire for more.

“God, yes!” Riot laughed, dark and sinister. There was pride in his words, a vile satisfaction in turning me into… this, whatever I was now.

“Beautiful chaos,” he murmured. He stood over us, a puppeteer, reveling in the scene he’d orchestrated with his depravity.

Life ebbed from the wretch under me, a final gurgle escaping his lips. I stood there, shaking like a leaf. Blood painted my skin, warm and slick, and it was as if I could feel it oozing into my pores and staining my very soul.

“Riot?” I sought him, needing him to anchor me. Now that it was over, and I saw the carnage, my knees felt weak, and uncertainty filled me.

He closed the distance between us, and his gaze seared into mine. Without warning, his arms caged me, pulling me tight against the hard planes of his body. His embrace was possessive, and I could feel the thrum of his pulse, as we bathed in the afterglow of violence.

“You’re a fucking natural.” His words were both a caress and a brand. Whatever I’d been before, now I was a murderer just like him. A killer who enjoyed the hunt and taking a life. I shivered, lost in the maelstrom of what I had become, of what we now were together.

I leaned into him, needing his comfort. We were two halves of a whole, bound by the screams we silenced.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his grip tightening for a moment before he released me, a silent command that I follow him back to our sanctuary -- a mansion as twisted as we were.

As we started to walk farther down the alley, his hand found mine, fingers entwining with an intimacy that was as terrifying as it was thrilling. Our steps echoed, a symphony of depravity that played to the night. And I knew then, with every fiber of my being, that there was no turning back from the abyss that yawned before me. Riot had shown me the darkness, and I had embraced it with open arms.

I clung to Riot, my nails digging into the taut muscles of his back. Tremors racked my body. His dark aura enveloped me, the heat from his skin igniting something feral inside. A line had been crossed, one I’d never be able to take back. I felt it like a jagged tear in my soul. Could I ever claw my way back to the person I was before? Did I even want to?

The cold brick of the alley wall scraped against my back as Riot pressed me to it, but I didn’t care. His hands were on me, urgent, rough. His desire was raw, like an untamed beast sating its urges. He yanked my pants down around my knees, then turned me to face the brick. My cheek pressed against it, the blood of the dead man squishing under my skin.

With one deep thrust, Riot entered me, making me cry out in surprise and a flash of pain. He fucked me like a man possessed, not caring who might pass by, or the fact we were standing in blood. He was intense and savage as he took what he wanted.

“Riot!” His grip on me tightened.

“Mine! Only mine.” His movements were relentless, each stroke deeper, claiming me in ways I never imagined could stir such dark delight within me.

“Yours,” I breathed out, surrendering to the rhythm of his possession. It wasn’t just my body he conquered but something deeper, a part of my soul I’d laid bare for him to ravage.

I wanted to reach down and touch my clit, but I didn’t dare. I only got to come when he allowed it, and right now, he was all about dominating me. And I loved it.

“Harder,” I urged, craving the punishing thrusts of his cock.

Riot complied, his pace unyielding, fervent as if each moment was both an end and a beginning. His breaths came out in harsh pants, echoing off the walls.

“Look at what you’ve become.” His voice was laced with pride and something darker, more dangerous.

“Your masterpiece?” I asked between moans, the words cutting through the haze of pleasure-pain.

His laughter was a low rumble against my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

“Yes. My perfect little killer. My whore who craves my touch, even when I give her pain,” he said.

I came so hard, I screamed out his name. He powered into me until I felt his cock swell and then the heat of his release as he came inside me. Riot pulled out and yanked my pants up. I turned to face him, clinging to him. It felt as if he’d branded me as his in every way possible. Now, I was his forever.

I glanced down and the victim’s lifeless eyes bore into me, accusing and unforgiving.

Riot took my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. We walked back toward the mansion, our steps in sync.

“Ready for more?” he asked, his lips curving into a sinister smile that promised untold horrors and ecstasies.

“As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we do.” My voice was steady. Together we moved through Raven’s Vale, the town that belonged to the monster beside me and his two brothers in chaos. The world he’d painted in shades of red, and now shared with me.

Riot opened the door, and it groaned on its hinges. I stepped inside with Riot right on my heels.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Yes. Home. There was no turning back now. Maybe there had never been a chance of surviving any other way. My hands were as stained as his, my soul just as tainted.

The foyer’s dim light flickered across his face, casting half of it in eerie shadow while the other half basked in a sinister glow. It was the perfect metaphor for the man himself -- a creature of duality, both guardian and destroyer.

“Feels right, doesn’t it?” he murmured, closing the distance between us with predatory grace.

“Like I was always meant to be here,” I admitted, my words raw with the truth of them.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest. “That’s because you were, Hollis. You’re one of us now.”

His thumb trailed along the inside of my wrist, tracing the pulse that hammered there. I already wanted him again.

“Us,” I echoed, the word branding itself upon my very being. In this place, bound to this man, I was reborn -- a monster just like him, forged in blood and bound by desire.

Riot lifted me into his arms and carried me to our room. He kicked the door shut behind us and went straight to the adjoining bath. He eased me down, and I started to strip off my clothes while he turned on the shower. He removed his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and stepped under the spray, holding out his hand to beckon me.

Joining him, I let Riot wash away the blood. Never had I felt closer to someone. I couldn’t help but revel in the power he held over me. It was intoxicating, and my body craved more of his dominance.

Riot took control, pushing me against the wall and thrusting deep inside me. I whimpered in pleasure as he used my body for his own satisfaction, refusing to let me climax until he was ready.

We moved from the wall to the bed where he pinned me down beneath him, his rough hands tracing patterns on my skin that left goose bumps in their wake. He whispered dirty words into my ear.

“My filthy little whore. You like what I do to you, don’t you?”

I nodded, unable to lie to him.

“You’re mine, Hollis. Every fucking inch of you to do with as I please.”

“Yes, yours!”

He growled in approval when I writhed under him, begging for more. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me down as he took me harder and faster than ever before.

I bit my lip to stifle the moans escaping my throat, feeling embarrassingly turned on by his rough handling. The room spun around me in a haze of lust. It was clear we were both lost in this twisted world of desire -- a world where boundaries no longer existed, and pleasure knew no limits.

Through it all, there was one constant thought running through my mind: I never want this to end.