29. Hey, did you notice there’s a drain beneath the chair?
29
Hey, did you notice there’s a drain beneath the chair?
Chapter Playlist:
“Psycho” – Breaking Benjamin
“Pretty Little Psycho” – Porcelain Black
EVERLEIGH
I stand at the edge of the dungeon room, pressed against the cold stone wall, wrapping my arms tightly around myself as the intruder’s muffled whimpers echo in the space.
Cherry hums knowingly, louder than ever. You could cut the tension in here with a knife—though I think Acheron has that covered.
Her voice is so clear. Because I need her more than ever.
Cal is not just Cal at present. He is Acheron, a vengeful god on earth, a punishing demon. He is a study in control as he circles the bound man. His dark red suit is pristine, but I know it won’t be for long. The knife in his hand gleams under the flickering light, sharp enough to slice through bone.
Oh, honey, this is better than front-row seats at a gladiator match, my figment waltzes up to me, her vision shimmering. She winks, folds her wings at her back, and leans against the wall with me while holding a paper bucket overflowing with buttery kernels. Want some popcorn?
Yes, I say without hesitation, imagining myself grabbing a handful. My fingers merely twitch at my sides.
Acheron is calm and composed, as always. My heart pounds in my chest, every beat a reminder of the danger of his mere presence.
The man, still tied to the chair, trembles beneath Acheron’s gaze. I can’t help but wonder how far my stalker will go. Tendrils of heat ripple to my center, wetting it.
Oooh, it’s like a predator circling his prey! Cherry claps rapidly, her wings buzzing. Remember those nature channels I love so much when the lion is crouching in the high grass and stalking a wounded gazelle before he pounces and rips the gazelle’s head off and ? —
“Who are you?” Acheron’s voice cuts through my imagination, smooth and measured.
The man spits on the floor, his defiance clear. “Go to hell.”
Acheron’s lips curl into a smirk. “How about I bring hell to you instead?”
Here it comes, Cherry leans over, whispering to me. Pounce time!
Without a moment’s hesitation, Acheron snaps the man’s fingers with audible cracks echoing. The man lets out a bloodcurdling scream, making my stomach turn. I flinch, pressing my body harder against the wall, my nails digging into my palms.
“Who are you?” Acheron asks again, his tone still calm, casual, almost conversational.
The man’s eyes widen, and he gasps. “Cassidy… Nick Cassidy!” His voice is high-pitched, panic lacing every word.
My pulse quickens. I don’t recognize the name. For all I know, he could be a thrill seeker who managed to make his way into the belly of the beast. Or maybe Acheron has a stalker of his own?
Now, that would be something. Cherry elbows me. I guess you’re not the only one who gets unwanted attention. Maybe you should start a support group. Party of two. Well, three including me.
That doesn’t track. If he was after Acheron, why would he look for the exhibit? Why would he film me? How did he even know I was there? It can’t be dumb luck.
I push my wandering thoughts aside. My nipples grow hard and itchy, and the wetness surges in my pussy, slicking my folds. How am I getting off on this?!
Acheron fingers the blade in his hand, his movements unhurried. It’s clear he’s enjoying this judging by the subtle smirk beyond the edge of his mask, but everything in his body screams guarded yet possessive, an icy feralness to him. The way he walks….some of it reminds me of when he performs.
He is performing, honey bun. For you.
Acheron trails the knife across the back of Nick’s neck, and a whimper escapes the intruder’s lips.
“Tell me,” Acheron says, his voice like silk, “How did you get in?”
Nick stammers, his voice shaking. “I hacked the system… triggered the fire alarms as a diversion… and I’m good at parkour. I scaled the walls, the rooftops… Please, I’ll tell you everything.”
There’s nothing warm about Acheron’s smile. His knife taps lightly against his palm. “Oh, I’m certain you will. But you did not do this alone.”
Nick’s eyes widen, and he swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “What? I—I don’t understand.”
Acheron’s gaze sharpens, calculating. “A fan wouldn’t go to these lengths. A fan wouldn’t scale rooftops only to sneak into sublevels of my estate. No, this was planned. Someone knew the territory first to inform you of the sublevels which are known only to me and my manager. The blueprints. The layout. The weak points.” He steps closer, his presence making the air feel even heavier. “Who hired you?”
Nick’s breath catches in his throat. Acheron watches him with a predator’s patience, knowing the man will crack.
“I-I don’t know.”
Acheron steps back, his eyes glinting as he circles Nick like a vulture. The air grows colder, more charged.
Oops, Cherry giggles and pokes my side. Upgrade the horror level. What do you think on a scale of Ghostface to Leatherface?
I pause, turning to the side to eye her as she twirls her pink locks. Um…Terrifier.
Cherry taps her lips pensively. Well, he’s got the whole “Art” thing down —her laughter borders on maniacal— See what I did there? But there is no way in hell your Art God is that sadistic and evil. Our boy doesn’t kill without purpose. Too high-functioning. Cal’s soul might be dark and twisted, but baby, he’s still got one. And you’re the bright shining light smack dab in the center!
“You know…the human body,” — Acheron muses, his voice filled with dark curiosity — “is a fascinating thing. It can endure so much pain, as long as vital organs are left untouched. But it can also be made to suffer for far longer, with just a few well-placed strikes.”
Nick’s body jerks as Acheron drives the blade into his shoulder with surgical precision.
I jump so hard, Cherry drops the popcorn bucket and blows a raspberry at me. She throws her head back and laughs, her wings bouncing. Hey, did you notice there’s a drain beneath the chair? Whatever could that be for? Sarcasm drips from her voice.
Nick’s scream is bloodcurdling, the kind that makes my skin crawl, but I can’t look away. I can’t tear my eyes from Acheron, who stands there, so composed, so in control.
If you barf or faint, I’m taking over. No way am I missing this drama!
I cringe, instinctively shrinking into the stone wall, but something else stirs in me, something darker. It’s a twisted sense of awe, a deep appreciation for Acheron’s dedication . He’s not just protecting me; he’s punishing this man for daring to touch what’s his. By now, there’s a damp spot on my robe.
God, this is hot. Mmm, dungeon chic. Cold walls, faint screams, and blood splatter—so atmospheric. This is the best date ever!
Because candlelight dinners are overrated.
She blows me a kiss. Now, you’re getting the idea.
When Acheron trails the knife along Nick’s other shoulder, he screams, “I don’t know! I swear, I don’t know who sent me! I was just commissioned on the dark web! A generous anonymous client paid me upfront! Transfer to my account in the Caymans.”
Acheron hums thoughtfully, his knife still tracing along Nick’s skin, making him tremble. He circles him again, his eyes dangerously locked on the man.
The blade plunges again, this time into Nick’s side. His body convulses, his restraints rattling as he jerks against the pain, screaming the whole time.
Heart racing, breath leaving in shallow gasps, I can’t tear my eyes away from Acheron. How terrifying and magnetic he is. I should be horrified, but all my nerve endings come alive, and I can’t deny the adrenaline rushing through me.
Acheron steps back, then forces the man’s head up, making him look at me.
“You fucked with the God of Art, Mr. Cassidy,” he says, his voice a lethal whisper. “But worse, you fucked with his muse. An unforgivable sin.”
And with that, he slices Nick’s throat. The spray of blood is almost beautiful, pooling around the man’s body as he slumps forward, lifeless.
You’re one lucky damn muse, Everleigh.