Him
My headphones might burst of the orgasm spree it’s being subjected to. I’ve watched all of our personal porn so many times; in all honesty, I’ve lost count.
The urge to fuck her again is only growing. The more I watch it the more I get infatuated with her all over again; like every time is our first time together. Like a toddler obsessing over his favorite toy.
Only she’s not my toy, regardless of whatever I call her when we are doing it.
I may have said despicable things; and made her say sinful things too. But the only ones I really ever mean are those that I write down when I send her notes.
She’s taking her medications; that means she should have her menstruation by the end of next week. I don’t want her to have anything in her body that she doesn’t truly want. And a pregnancy would only worsen things at the moment.
Although I can see clearly what she’s been denying to herself. She did enjoy my violations, even if she hates herself for it. And she is in love with me, whichever version she prefers. That’s just a matter of choice. I can forever wear the mask if she wants to be with that version of me.
However, the other version will always be the one she doesn’t admit on admiring. It’ll come soon; I have a feeling.
But there’s another feeling that has been haunting me since I left her in the apartment alone that night. Not only is she strikingly more submissive this time around, but her coping mechanism also seems to be lagging behind.
She has always bounced back to normal much easily before. This time, however, she’s overly stressed and stuck at her illogical fear about me. And the one thing that’s driving me nuts is the fact that she’s so resistant on coming out of the fucking apartment.
Why the hell does she look so tired all the fucking time?She doesn’t even drink that much. And then she wouldn’t let me come see her.
Seeing her so broken breaks my heart.
The only solution my mind – No – my heart came up with, was to let it slide just this once and see if it works. I want my muffin healed and hearty. Back to the sweetest thing ever that she is.
I wonder how she’s managed to bring out everything that had been buried and forgotten for so long inside me; I had almost forgotten that I was in fact once a nice little boy who could write sweet notes and send flowers.
And it doesn’t bother me one tiny bit if she throws every single one of those in the trash. I know it will help her heal. I know it will make her feel less like an object.
How dearly I wish she could see herself through my eyes. Because then, she would see the goddess I see; the one that I worship in every possible way. And she would see the power that she holds over me. Over my breath, over my conscience, and over my body.
But that’s something I can think about later on. I had my dinner about half an hour ago, and now, I am dying for some dessert. I pull up the live feed to see where my sweet muffin has been for the time.
It’s nine and they keep chatting about nonsensical worries about how she’ll make efforts to escape me. Her tense grows as Jessica explains about the office problem, which I have to admit... I never thought something could be wrong in her workplace. It is a lead when I tell Black about it, but for me this looks like a personal concern.
After about an hour of stressing over the office issue, they’ve shifted to a more moderate topic. It is about some festival happening next month, and they want another ticket from WHO? PAYAL! No...
So, this is what it’s been. My muffin has to be credited for all the information we needed on this; and my best bet for the drug fest is this event.
Our team of three, as planned beforehand, would go to this one; while the other two will be visiting their best bets happening all on the same day.
When I look again, these two are locking up after getting a reply from the she-devil. I see them descending downstairs to Payal’s apartment.
The few times that I really feel panicky, but I have to have self-control and not rush downstairs disclosing my identity in a way it is not supposed to happen. But it’s almost ten at night, not the right time to knock on a criminal’s door.
The door opens and I watch. I watch him watch her.
Tsk!This is going to be a gory night again for me. So bad, I am not a fan of pulling eyes out. But I’ll have to, anyways.
She is talking to him while her friend is leaning against the wall before he holds my Disha’s wrists and Jessica jumps into picture trying to defend her. This dissolute son-of-a-bitch has zero idea how many pieces he’ll end up in for touching her. I can see his hands on the floor already.
Also, Jess is remarkably good at defense; she not only defended her but actually lets her get away from the bastard enough for them to make a run for it.
But right now, that’s not even important. What’s important is how I control the urge to run downstairs right now, and hold my baby in my arms, only to kiss her fears away. Those feelings are only mine to play with. But some out-of-luck man-whore always get on my nerves trying stupid tricks with her.
Today is your night, Mr. Shashank Kulkarni.
After watching her sober herself from behind my screen, I get up and ready with my paint, gloves, and a set of clothes that will be taken care of soon after I finish my dirty work on the tenth-floor resident.
Me being signed out from the society records four nights ago will be of more help in this than I initially thought.
Descending downstairs, I remember that this guy has a hobby of collecting forest operations equipment. That might be just what I need.
The apartment is on the last turn to the left on the tenth floor, well secluded for any suspicious activity. The only security camera is the one that points directly to the house which I placed there after I started digging on them. And is the one I’ll be happily obliged to erase any footage for the hour from now.
Of the many video recordings of Disha that I have on my phone, I pull out the clearest one and place it strategically on a key hole for the drunkard to bait him on opening the door when I ring the bell.
And the bastard does open the door with a stupid shitty smile on his crooked face which fades out as soon as he locks eyes with me.
“Umm... can I help you?” he says, an unknown fear engulfing his spine.
“You definitely can. I was looking for someone. Do you know this woman?” I show her the vid from before.
His face eases a little, looking at her vid play with about a sparkle in his eyes. I want to gauge them out right away but I’ll play with him for some time. Helps build the rage.
“Yes. I know her. What business do you have with her at this hour of the night?”
“I think you already know.” I smirk.
“Oh, I do?” he pauses, “Maybe I know. But you better wait for a month or two. She’ll be more easily available once my wife is done talking to her.”
“What do you mean?” confusion constricting the capillaries in my head.
The distress on my face at this point is real. These two have really had some trick up their sleeves; while all I was doing is playing and fucking around with her. How could I have missed this? I’ll have to punish myself for this.
“By the way, what’s wrong with your eyes?” he hesitates.
But I’ve lost it already, craze burning its way to my eyes.
“Nothing. It’s just designed that way,” I pause, before sneering at him. “to scare the shit out of people like you...”
“What –”
Before he can react, I lunge at him grabbing his neck in a chokehold; before reaching for his tongue and slicing it off with the curved edge of my trek knife.
“Silence is such a sweet language, don’t you think?” I scoff, tackling him to the sofa while he gurgles on the blood oozing from inside his mouth.
“You’re going to die but first I need answers.”
I hand over a blank sheet attached to a writing board and a pen.
“Tell me who do work for? And I want names of people and organizations.”
Confusion rises on his face before turning into horror.
“I may look harmless but I assure you, the more time this takes, the gorier it will be.”
His hands tremble as he writes down names of two people and what looks like a socialite group. I’ll discuss with my gang about this later. We can dig with this information at hand.
“Write down all the pseudo names and accounts along with passwords that you use to login into whatever websites on the dark net.”
His hesitation is testing my patience as he looks at me teary eyed as if I’m supposed to have fucking mercy on him.
It earns him a broken hand; the left one so he can still write that info down. He cries in pain, only he can’t make any noise.
“You look so pretty silently weeping like that. Prettier than what you looked when you grabbed her wrist.”
His eyes widen in horror. I recognize the knowing he is coming terms to with right now. I can see it in his eyes. Eyes that’ll be lying on the floor for ogling her the way they did.
“Now if you write those down, it’ll make things easier for both of us,” I nod in the direction of the blank sheet beautifully painted with a few drops of blood here and there.
He stares at the sheet before making his decision to scribble down whatever information he can remember. His aliases and the websites he used them for; while I go around locating and bringing back what looks like his brand-new electric chainsaw from the storeroom with me.
The terror in his eyes is impossible to miss. It’s the same fear that every criminal has on their face when they realize that it’s closure for them. It’s the same for all of them.
Be it her deceased fiancé or his buddies. Or the guy who was driving her home one night when she was returning from office. Or her potential boyfriend on that group camping she went on. Or the one who teased her just over the line outside school.
Goodness! The list is longer than I last remembered.
“What’s happening to Disha?” I tap down at the fresh sheet.
When he’s done scribbling, I snatch the sheet out of his grasp and take a deep breath before looking.
You know what this is going to be. You know what this is going to be. You know what this is going to be.
But the way I dread it – I haven’t dreaded anything in a very long time.
Without wasting another moment, I look at the words. And even though I could see it coming, when I see it – I fucking lose my balance. These God damning creatures were planning on transporting her in place of their daughter.
“That’s it, Mr. Kulkarni. Or should I say @trippytrippy057?”
The moment I call his bluff, his eyes widen with shock and realization.
“Now you know who I am. What you don’t know is that I also am Disha’s boyfriend. What do you think should I do with you; considering the fact that you were planning on selling my girlfriend, in place of your daughter.”
I flash my teeth before continuing, “Looks like you wouldn’t be having a problem spectating from the other side, when I dealt with your daughter in the same way you were about to with my baby.”
The look on his face changes quickly from a vicious criminal to a helpless father; managing to join his hands together as if begging me not to.
Like I was ever going to do it anyway.
I may be many things, but an exploiter isn’t one of them.
Does not apply on Disha, though. She’s different. She changes things. Changes me.
“Relax. No one is hurting your daughter.”
His expression eases only a bit with confusion and wariness taking over.
“You may write down how to locate her. My friends may be willing to save her, we told you that before.”
He hesitates before penning down a latitude longitude. I take a look at it and shove the papers in my back pocket.
“Now, let’s depart you to hell. Shouldn’t make Lucifer wait!”
I start the chainsaw, as shrill cries right from someone’s voice box fill the entire corridor.
The process off dismembering the asshole takes about twenty exhausting minutes. Leaving the door open behind me I rewrap my boots in the film I carried on my way here so no boot prints are imprinted on my way back.
Looking over my chin is the remains of a what looks like must’ve been a man, with his hands and tongue cut off. His body split in two from the waist down. A dismembered head lies on the floor with the eyes hanging out from the sockets. He looks beautiful.
Pride is all I feel, looking at the masterpiece I just created.
But this time, Divit won’t take the credits for the cleanup. I will.