15. Beatrix
15
BEATRIX
I t's silent.
There's no shouting, no swearing. Glass doesn't shatter in the other room, nor comes the hard thud of a book or a fist hitting the wall. There are no sounds of weeping or heavy sobs either. Even the house, as if suspended in disbelief, doesn't make a noise. There aren't any natural creaks in the floorboards and the wind that usually makes its way through the walls, causing a draft, doesn't whistle.
The silence isn't oppressive, heavy, or thick. I didn't know what to expect but to be able to breathe easy after making such a dark decision wasn't something I thought I'd be able to do. As I stand in the foyer, right where the police officers had left me, I marvel at the silence. It's never this quiet. Not even when Patrick and my mother slept. It was as if there was a humming of corrupted energy always shifting through the house, beating at me and keeping me from peace. That energy is gone now. For once in what feels like an eternity, when I suck in a deep breath, my lungs fill completely. A vice has dropped away from my heart, allowing it to beat properly.
Tears well up as I stare, unseeing, at the front door. They spill over and roll down my cheeks, unhurried in their departure. Has air ever tasted this good? And is it warmer in here? Where is the permanent chill that seems to always linger in my veins? Its absence is noticeable.
Standing there, I wait for this odd catharsis to pass. Surely guilt will descend upon my shoulders to crush me. My heart will lock back up as the reality of what I've done comes crashing over me. Soon my stomach will twist, and the small lunch I had will make an appearance as horror makes me ill. Coming home to find Patrick keeled over the kitchen table and my mother lifeless in their bed—I should feel responsible. I am responsible. The EMTs think Patrick died of a heart attack or an aneurysm; they'll be doing an autopsy before bringing him back for me to tend to his body. My mother's death was no mystery. It was clearly an overdose.
“It's unfortunate that their deaths happened on the same day, but fate is funny like that,” one of the EMTs had said as they carted out their bodies. “We'll be in contact soon.”
Fate. Fate had nothing to do with this. It was me. I'd asked for help, and it came in the swift form of death. It's my fault two people are dead. I have to feel something . Well, something other than an inordinate amount of relief. Seconds tick by. Then minutes follow. Still, I don’t feel regret. Not even in my smallest toe.
My head falls back slowly, and I close my eyes to savor the silence. More tears roll down my cheeks. These come a little faster than the first few. Suddenly my chest clenches, and for a second, it's hard to breathe. Is this it? The moment where I crumple to the ground and am consumed by the guilt of my misdeeds? I suck in a sharp breath, and my chest… relaxes. As I let it out, a strangled laugh works its way past my lips. It starts off almost breathless, but the sound grows louder and stronger as I realize there's no one here to tell me to shut up or to drop dead.
I'm free .
Free of my mother's vices and bad choices in men, free of Patrick's cruelty and poor hygiene and shitty financial decisions. My laughter turns hysterical. I can't stop it. I don't even try. I allow the noise to fill the silence. This is my house. My life. And anything terrible that comes from it now is because of my own decisions.
But I didn't get here by myself .
The thought settles me. My laughter dies away as I consider this. I'd asked for help and the devil responded. Where's the fear that should come on the coattails of that realization? Turning around, I look up to the second floor, half expecting a shadowy figure to be there watching me. But there's nothing and no one there. I take a shaky breath. The devil hadn't only come to relieve me of my problems, he came to devour my soul straight from my body. At this, my pussy inappropriately reacts. It clenches on nothing, and a ripple of desire rushes up from between my legs and heats my cheeks.
Maybe that's why I don't feel bad for killing Patrick and my mother. I have no soul left to feel anything.
Tearing my gaze away from the second floor, I look to my left, right, and then straight ahead down the dark hallway. Just because I can’t see him, doesn’t mean he’s not here. Apparently, he’s been here all this time, lurking in the shadows, just out of sight. Is he here now, watching? Or has he taken what he wanted from me, fulfilled his end of the bargain, and vanished? Disappointment, heavy and cold, nearly wipes away the buoyancy I feel. It's followed by a strange loneliness.
Yes, I was terrified as a stranger pinned me down and took what he wanted from me a few days ago.
But that terror... it was twisted with something else. Knowledge perhaps? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have known my stalker wasn't going to kill me. Why else would my body cum so hard over and over again when I’ve never done that before in my life? It had to be because I trusted him. How else had it been so easy to succumb to such a merciless and salacious attack? Just thinking about it... A heavy shiver rushes through me and the warmth in my veins increases tenfold. Patrick managed to pin me down and rape me, yet my body never responded like it had with a complete stranger who’d demanded payment for the dark deed I’d asked him to commit.
My stalker can't be gone. I want the flowers and cryptic notes. I want to be touched like that again. I want to be saved over and over, to feel this peace inside of me. I'll sell whatever I have to the devil if only he stays.
“Hello?” Desperation has me calling out before I can consider the consequences. “Are... are you here?”
There's no answer. I don't know if I expected one or not, but I'm neither disappointed nor satisfied. Licking my lips, I take a step forward. Then another. Aimlessly, I wander the large empty house, searching for the devil that lurks in the shadows. Each room I check, I half expect him to jump out and yell surprise. But it doesn't happen. By the time I get to the third floor and stand in the middle of my mother's room, it hits me that he's not here.
I stare at the dirty mattress my mother and Patrick would lay on. The sheets are old and have lost whatever color they once were. The carpet is even dirtier. Standing in here, I expect a wave of guilt to hit me. When it doesn’t come, I turn and leave.
A few minutes later, I find myself in my room. Immediately my eyes land on the nearly charred wall. I washed the soot from the fire off everything as best I could. The burned furniture was replaced with some that had been in one of the spare guestrooms. But there are still marks along the wall I couldn’t remove.
I frown at the sight of them before turning and reaching out to shut the door. My hand freezes halfway toward the knob. I don't have to close and lock this anymore. No one is coming in here to hurt or kill me. My hand drops back to my side. Conflicting feelings wash over me. Suddenly the silence feels too oppressive. Where's my devil? Has he taken to the wind? I suppose that’s what devils do. They come and go, staining souls as they do. I wish he’d taken mine rather than just sullying it.
Hands land on my hips and a firm wall of muscle presses into my back. All thoughts scatter, leaving my mind full of wordless panic.
“It's adorable watching you trying to find me,” a deep voice murmurs into my ear. “Don't worry, Little Viper, I'm here. I'm always here.”
I flinch at the contact and gasp. My heart takes off, beating so fast, for a second I feel lightheaded. I start to look up and over my shoulder, but a hand lifts from my hip to grab my chin in a biting grip to keep me from twisting around.
“Not yet, Little Viper.” He forces my face to the side and lips trail down my neck. My heart hammers in alarm and bumps rise upon my skin and chase after the touch of his lips. “Now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”
My breath is shaky as I stand there. I didn’t think this far ahead, and now that I'm trapped, I'm not sure if this was a good idea. I don't know this man's intentions. If he's here, but still lurking rather than coming forth, there must be a malicious reason he doesn't want me to see his face.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I venture softly.
My devil chuckles as his hand slides from my jaw to hold the front of my neck. “You aren't ready for answers.”
I lick my bottom lip nervously. He might be right. Maybe tonight isn't about answers. But I owe him. Despite the payment he took, he gave me something invaluable. Slowly, so he doesn't think I'm trying to escape, I lift my arms. Reaching up, I take hold of the wrist and forearm that's wrapped around me.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. Then, ever so softly, I whisper, “Thank you for saving me.”
There's a pause. Then the body behind me trembles with mirth.
“Oh, Little Viper, I didn't save you from anything.” The hand on my hip slides forward to press against my lower stomach. “In fact, you may be in more danger now than you were when the others were around. I’m addicted to your fear. Only now I can be the one to inspire it.”
As if to prove a point, my devil's hand slides lower, and he cups my mound possessively. I suck in a sharp breath, stiffening as I do. Yet even as fear leaves me off-kilter, my pussy spasms. She remembers this man fondly, and right now I can feel myself growing inappropriately wet as his grip on me tightens.
“Why were you looking for me, Little Viper?” he asks again.
I open my mouth, but no words come out. I don't have an answer. I don't know why I was stupid enough to reach out for the man who killed two people. My devil laughs again, the sound soft and strangely stilted, as if he hasn't quite figured out how to do it right. The hand around my neck tightens.
“You don't know?” he taunts. “That's alright, Little Viper. I'll let you in on a little secret. I know why you're looking for me.”
I blink in confusion. “You do?”
“Yes.” His lips continue to skim up and down my neck. A shiver rushes through me, and it has nothing to do with fear. “You called to me because you're afraid of being alone.”
Immediately, I scoff. “That's not true. I like my solitude.”
“You like to feel safe ,” he corrects sharply, his lips pulling away from my skin. His grip on my neck tightens. Can he feel the way my pulse skips? “Up until now, being alone was safer than being around others, especially under this roof.”
His words are spoken matter-of-factly but they strike a chord. How does he know this? I didn't even realize it until he gave a voice to why I'm so introverted.
“Am I on the right path?” my devil asks innocently. “I think I am, so why don't I keep going?”
He takes a step back, dragging me with him toward my bed.
“Now that you think you're safe, Little Viper, you crave attention. A certain type of attention.” This time when he laughs, it sounds unnerving. My heart races faster as fear starts to chase away rationality. I should be fighting this, so why aren’t I? “You seek company from the man that you think saved you because you think that I won't kill you.”
Suddenly, both of his hands disappear. I don't move, too scared to see if this is some sort of test. There's a rustling of material, then a hood is thrown over my head. The implications of this spur me to react.
The scream of terror that ripples up my throat and spews out into the room is powerful. At the same time, I reach up to try to remove the hood, but arms come around me, preventing me from doing so. With ease, I'm picked up off the ground—just like when he'd snuck up on me last time.
“Go ahead. Scream some more, darling. Let me soak up your terror, it gives me such a high.”
“No, wait, please?—”
I'm thrown down onto my back on top of my mattress. The breath is knocked from me as I bounce once. Hands capture mine, and despite my struggling, zip ties bind my wrists together.
“I know so much about you, Little Viper, but the thing is, you've put your trust into a complete stranger. You know nothing about me,” my devil says as the bed dips and he joins me. I start to sit up, but he pushes me back and pins me down into my mattress by my neck. “You don't know who I am, why I'm here, or what I plan to do with you now that there's no one to stop me.”
“You're right,” I choke out as his grip becomes biting. “I don’t know you!”
“I know I’m right. It isn’t often that I’m not.”
A hand undoes the button on my pants, and then it tugs at my zipper. I kick at him, hoping to knock him off me.
“Stop this, please. I just wanted to thank you for?—”
“You didn't know what you wanted, Little Viper, remember? But don't worry, I do know, and yes, I'll keep you company tonight.”
With that, my pants are yanked down and off me despite all the fighting I do.
“Stop this!” I thrash around. Hands grab my ankles to pin them down. Terror wraps around my heart but the rest of my body... it's not reacting appropriately. My pussy flutters, remembering the last time I tried to fight him off and how it ended. My skin burns where my devil touches me. “Don't do this, please!”
“Soon, when everything falls into place, Little Viper, I’ll be able to keep you. And when that happens, I’ll take care of you, pet. I’ll have the rest of my life to play with you, to terrorize you… and to watch over you so no one else has the pleasure of enjoying what’s mine. You might not be safe from me, but you will be safe from the rest of the world. The only pain you’ll feel will be from me, and it will be accompanied by an unholy pleasure.” There’s another strange laugh. This one is louder, maniacal almost. “But tonight, I’ll simply bask in your fear. You can give that to me, right? I’m sure you can. Let me know with a scream if I’m getting there when you wake up, alright?”
I frown under the hood. “When I wake up?”
I'm flipped over and a hand comes to the back of my neck. For a moment, he grips the back of my neck so tight I let out a cry, but before the sound leaves my throat, the world disappears, and I sink into oblivion.