Chapter 47 Damon
DAMON
They sent you because you're expendable, the raspy voice slides into my head like a sharp and jagged blade slipping between flesh, soft, intimate, and cruel.
A dark, menacing shadow stretches along the brick path beside me, too long for the early afternoon sun rays, its edges writhing where they shouldn't, and I have to swallow the bile rising up the back of my throat.
My mind feels fractured into a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, and fears, I can't control.
Cross and River don't respect you. They're afraid of you; there's a difference. They know you're a monster, Damon. It leans closer, breath cold against my ear. You're their monster. The one they unleash when they want blood to run in the streets, but not tainting their hands, or their conscience.
I shake my head hard, sweat flinging from my hair, my scalp itching as a shadow runs its blade-like fingers through it.
My hands tremble at my sides, and I force them into tight fists until my knuckles ache.
The world around me feels wrong. It's too bright, loud, and sharp, as if everything is in hyperfocus and glaring.
Every sound on campus grates my fried nerves.
The laughter, footsteps, and even the distant slam of a door, are overstimulating and overwhelming.
Students part around me like I'm radioactive, refusing to meet my glance.
They already know what I am and what I'm capable of.
They've witnessed my loss of control before and the outcome of my rage. Monster, their judging eyes proclaim, and they're right, I know it deep in my tarnished and blackened soul. Was I always this way? I can’t remember a time when I was happy, even as a little kid. Every day under my father’s roof was wracked with violent, abusive misery.
I am what he always wanted, a killing machine. A monster just like him.
My stomach twists violently, and pain tears through me, forcing me to clench my teeth and pant.
Withdrawal claws at me savagely, my mouth dry, but tasting like ass, my jaw aching from clenching my teeth so hard I fear they'll shatter.
It's been too long since my last hit, and my frazzled nerves are screaming for alcohol, for something to snort, smoke, or swallow, for anything to quiet the noise raging inside my skull.
Fuck. I should've gotten high. I should've drowned this out before it started.
I... I can't do this, not like this. Cross wants me sober and clear-headed.
He has no fucking idea what sobriety does to me, how much pain I have to endure.
How right now I would rather crawl into a hole in the dark, and rip my own flesh off, than have to deal with any of this.
Such a weak, pathetic little boy, go ahead and cry, my father’s voice taunts me in my head.
Another shadow peels itself from the edge of a building, this one shaped more like a woman, hips and breasts exaggerated, a sinister smile that's far too wide, and dark red eyes like fiery embers.
She moves with a predatory grace, keeping pace beside me, and I flinch away from her touch.
Your friends don't care about you, Damon, she croons, voice honeyed and thick, trying her best to tempt me.
Not like we do. We'd never throw you away.
We'd never send you to clean up their mess.
My chest tightens, and my pulse stutters.
They sent me to find Sim, to end him. Was it just to keep me out of the way while they went after my little monster?
Do they think I'm unworthy of having her like they are?
She's supposed to belong to the three of us equally, but more and more, I'm starting to believe they only want me near her to hurt her, while they get to have her for their pleasure.
The sense of betrayal burns hotter than the withdrawal ever could.
They're supposed to be my best friends, my brothers.
I've played their obedient lunatic all this time, and still I'm expendable, undeserving of her.
A flash of dread slices through me so sharp it nearly buckles my knees.
My unhinged princess is out there, alone and unprotected, and when Cross and River find her, they're going to keep her for themselves.
Maybe they hope that Sim Melfort will be the one to finally end me, so they don't feel responsible for doing it themselves.
The shadows crowd closer, feeding on my thoughts, as too many wispy fingers touch me at once, making my skin crawl.
You're disgusting, and unfit to have her anyway, the female shadow whispers.
You ruin everything you touch. You're the devil, Damon.
Daddy has told you the same thing all your life, hasn't he?
"Stay the fuck away from me!" I snarl, swinging my arm through the empty air, and the female shadow disperses but only for a second, before she instantly reforms, closer now, smiling wider and displaying jagged, sharp teeth.
You can't get rid of us, she murmurs. We're the only ones who never leave you.
Give in to us, we can make everything better, Damon.
"You really are a fucking psychopath, aren't you, Morell?
" Sim's large frame comes into view, and for a second, I'm disoriented, not sure how I didn't see him approaching me.
A deadly smile breaks across my face, and my shadows slither backward with annoyance.
Just the man I wanted to see, and hurt. He's made it so much easier coming to me, instead of having me hunt him.
A pout crosses my lips at that thought. The fucker is taking some of the fun out of it, and he's going to have to pay for that.
"Where is my girl, Morell, and for your fucking sake, she better not have a scratch on her!
" The energy radiating in waves off of Sim is positively dangerous, and murderous, and that ratchets up my own.
Fuck yes, I need a good fight, someone to go toe to toe with me, and not hold back.
I crave blood and destruction like one does a lover, knowing it's the only way to soothe the rot that lives within me.
"Scratch on her?" I rub at my temple with my middle finger, and his eyes watch the action with a scowl.
"Don't know about a scratch, but she did have my huge cock down her throat, choking her, not too long ago, and between you and me, she liked it," I snark, and watch him edge closer and closer to losing control.
Come on, hit me, fucker! Just one fucking punch, and I can unleash all my pent-up rage on you.
Kill him!
Rip him apart limb from limb, and let us feast on him!
Tear out his heart, it would be a tasty treat!
He wants what belongs to us, but she's ours, our unhinged princess!
The shadows writhe around him like a dark cloud, touching him, stroking his hair, and all the while, he's oblivious to their malignant presence, and stares daggers at me as if he could destroy me through sheer will. Buddy, others have tried and failed.
"I don't have time to play these fucked up games of yours, Damon. Step aside. I have to find Olly." He moves to walk past me, but I place myself once again in his way. No one is allowed to dismiss me. Who the fuck does he think he is?
He thinks he’s better than you. She wants him, not you, never you, the shadows hiss.
"You think you can just brush me off, Melfort?
I'm not playing any games. I had her back in the woods, on her knees like the slut she is, with my cock lodged in her throat, and I'll have her again.
You claim she's your girl, but you're wrong.
Mayhem has a prior claim, and we don't share with the likes of you.
" I shove him hard, putting all of my strength into moving his solid frame, and he pushes me back, our arms locking together as we grapple with each other.
"She has the tightest little cunt. I tasted her sweet pussy too, she's finger licking good, isn't she, Sim? "
"I'm gonna kill you, asshole!" Sim roars, and he manages to band his arms around my chest, and lift my heavy, tall frame off the ground a few inches, before tumbling with me to the cobblestones.
We land hard on the ground, the air whooshing out of my lungs, as he instantly attempts to place me in a submission hold, and break my arm.
I'm immediately reminded of why he's such a good fighter, and has made us so much money in the past. He's quick and efficient, and that might have worked on someone else, but I have nothing to lose, and I fight dirty.
I tip my head forward and bite down on the side of his face, tearing at his cheek until I taste blood.
His cry of pain is a victorious aphrodisiac to my ears, and I use his momentary distraction to my advantage, punching him over and over, anywhere I can land a blow, and forcing him to release his tight hold.
I try to rise to my feet, but Sim instantly kicks out, landing a blow to my stomach and winding me.
I buckle forward, wrapping my arm around my aching stomach, and trying to keep my insides from racing out of my mouth.
"WHERE IS SHE, DAMON?!" He roars, roundhouse kicking me, and landing a hard blow to my thigh that threatens to buckle my leg.
"She's already dead, she just doesn't know it yet!" I taunt, as I strike out with my fist, and he instantly moves out of my range.