Chapter 16 The Hunger
MAGDALENA
SEPTEMBER
“Magdalena.” It was my father’s unforgettable, deep voice waking me. I partially opened my heavy eyelids. It was dawn, and he was sitting by my feet on the bed.
He sighed, warning me that the next words would be heavy. “Do you want to go to Cambridge? To start your university studies?”
I sat up quickly as I said, “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” He turned to meet my gaze and shook his head while saying, “I’m not going to let those bastards end your future. Do you think it will make you feel better to start the semester and be busy? Or do you prefer to skip a few semesters and stay home? We’re okay with either.”
I sighed. “I don’t know anything anymore, Daddy.”
“That’s exactly why you’re going.” He got up and started picking up the clothes I had abandoned all over my room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to put your clothes to wash, and then we’re heading to London.”
“Dad, what about—I never confirmed I was going.” With a pile of my dirty clothes in his arms, he turned to me, barely able to see me over the garments. “I don’t think this is a good idea. What if—”
“I confirmed it months ago. You’re going. We’ll figure everything else out when we get there.”
A current of excitement ran through me. I was going to start a brand new life. Then nausea hit me. Fuck. That meant I’d have to go outside and see... people. Yuck.
After three months in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, returning to the public, especially in a city as big and busy as London, was overwhelming.
The people rushing, the noises, people sounding their horns, the breaks on buses screeching, the buildings casting shadows in the tiny, cobbled streets.
By the time we arrived at my dorm room, it was late at night, and I was exhausted.
Daddy helped me carry my bag full of clothes and the mountain of horror books he’d bought me in the city.
“Do you need help setting up?”
“No. I think I’ll be fine.” Just a few months prior, I had been dying to be free of my family, my past, and everyone’s expectations, yet now I was reeling at the knowledge that in a few minutes, he’d walk out.
“Well … in that case, I’ll go. Remember, I’m down the block.”
“Dad, you should either go stay at a decent hotel or go home. You don’t need to stay in that motel.”
“No, I want you to know I’m half a block away. I don’t care about the quality as long as you feel safe, Magdalena.”
He wasn’t wrong. I did need him near, so I sighed and just said, “Okay, but breakfast with me tomorrow. Deal?”
He chuckled. “Deal, angel. Promise you’ll call if anything comes up no matter how small?”
“I will.”
“I mean it, little angel, anything you need.” I followed him to the door. He opened it and stood there, studying me. “Okay?” I nodded because I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to ask him to take me back to Spain either.
“It may seem like I’m far, but I’ll be here within a second if you need me. Do you understand? No questions asked.”
“Yeah. Dad. I know. Thank you for—”
“For being your father? It’s an honor.” We both knew what I was really thanking him for, but those words, the real words that should have been spoken months before, could no longer be spoken. Thank you for helping me hide the body. “I’m proud of you, Magdalena.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
“You’re wrong. There really isn’t such a thing as morality, angel.
Make your own rules and stick to them. And if yours don’t agree with the law or society, just don’t get caught.
” He shrugged as if it was the simplest advice to follow in the world.
But if I let go of society’s rules … wouldn’t that be pure madness? Chaos, even?
I had not yet recuperated from my last night of madness and chaos.
The tears stung as the memories flooded in.
I guessed that whatever magical wall had been protecting me from them all day had vanished.
He drew me into a hug. Daddy’s long arms could easily wrap around me twice.
He always knew how strong of a hug I needed.
I closed my eyes tight while fighting the horrible memory taking over and hugged him back.
The memory pushed my nausea, this empty sensation, but there was something else.
Like a drug addiction, I longed to have their warm blood bathing my hands again, to feel the knife plunging into their eyes, balls, their bodies.
I was hungry to kill. Once again, the question taunted me. How right had Mael been? Was I as bad of a predator as he had been? “Dad.”
“Shhh … You’re so strong, just like your mom.” He kissed my forehead. “You did good. I have all the confidence in you. You’ve been wanting this for a long time.” He paused. “Don’t let them take this from you.”
For much too long, I stayed a few feet away from the door, staring at it after he left. I should have told him. Maybe he would have helped me.
Dad I’m addicted to showering in human blood.
Make your own rules. If he only knew what I would do without rules.
It took a week before my roommate showed up. Rosey was quirky and blissfully ignorant of how my eyes traveled down her entire body as my mind imagined stabbing her in different places. Where would she bleed out the fastest?
She was thin. What would it feel like to slice someone who wasn’t so skinny?
I craved feeling the plunge of the knife slicing through tissue and fat.
It was the thickness and how it bled that I loved.
Subconsciously, I slid my thumb over my lower lip, sometimes biting it.
By the time she turned from hanging the poster on the wall, my cheeks were red and I needed air.
“Hey.”
“Huh? Did you say something?”
Her chuckle was fake, awkward. Fuck. She fidgeted, scratching her nape then crossing her arms then not wanting to cross them then doing it anyway, then pulling in her lower lip, then stuffing her hands in her daisy short pockets.
Fuck. She was scared. “I have been talking to you. Didn’t you hear me? ”
“Oh, sorry, I was reading my book. What was it?”
“Do you want to go to the Alpha-Delta party with me? I mean, there’s a bunch, but I got the entrance to that one. It’s supposed to be where the cutest boys are.”
“Oh. Sorry, but no. I don’t go to parties. Good luck.” I picked up my backpack, headphones, and books and left to spend the rest of the afternoon reading and writing in the library. Mom had given me a new journal to fill before letting me come up to London with Dad.
I resisted calling home for as long as I could, so weeks passed, then months, and in those months, I somehow managed to avoid attracting other humans.
Sure, there was the occasional jock who would cat call me but then he’d cower away when I’d glare at him.
I sat at the back of all my classes and tried not to look at anyone’s body or face.