Chapter 3
Chapter Three
QUENTIN
I thought that my little moon was beautiful when I’d seen her in the light of day, but she thrived in the darkness.
Just like me.
The light from the moon hit her hair just right, the wetness from the rain causing it to shine. I took note of how her chest rose and fell with fear as she scanned the shadows, but I was so well hidden that there wasn’t a chance of her spotting me.
I had perfected my ways over the years, making sure I was never spotted, and my target never saw me coming.
But I had to give thanks to the car driver who honked at her when she stupidly walked into the road, or she may have made her way over here to investigate.
My head was a mess after the coffee shop, so much so that I skipped work and texted Brendan instead, asking him to hack the camera footage from inside the café and find out everything he could about her.
Anora Gwen Emerson was named after her mother, Gwenlyn, who had passed away when Anora was a child from a freak accident involving her car, a patch of black ice, and a tree. She was a fashion designer and cashier at a local boutique called Wildflower and had spent the last several years living in an apartment with her best friend Aurora Alcott. She was only a year younger than me at twenty-seven, barely over five feet tall, and utter perfection.
Just the basic facts about her weren’t enough. I wanted to know every single itty-bitty thing about her. I wanted to know what her favorite color was, what made her want to design clothing, how she looked and sounded when she came.
I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but something about Anora made me erratic, obsessed. I had never felt this way about any of my targets, needing to know only the basic information so I could take them down.
But I had a feeling she would mean so much more than any other target.
I pulled my hood over my baseball cap, making sure my face was concealed before trailing behind her, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t stalking. That I was just making sure she was getting home all right. That as soon as she stepped through her front door, I wasn’t going to go and find Mark Waverly and make him pay for how he’d treated her on their date in blood.
* * *
Mark Waverly had decided that after a long day at the office, he was going to treat himself to the strip club a few blocks away.
Now he was several drinks in and decided that getting handsy with the waitresses was a good idea, though it was strictly prohibited per the club rules. Even if it wasn’t prohibited, it was uncalled for and disgusting. These women didn’t ask for a creep’s hands on them while they were trying to make a living.
It was men like this that were the bane of my existence, creeping to the top of my shitlist. Even if he hadn’t spoken so poorly to Anora, Mark’s inability to keep his hands to himself around unwilling women was enough for me.
I waved down the waitress from my booth in the corner, and I could tell she was confused as she took in my still-full drink.
“Another drink for the gentleman across the room, please,” I said kindly, slipping her a generous tip and trying to look as non-creepy as possible in a room full of horny men.
Mark was too dumb to question where the drinks were coming from, only focused on consuming alcohol like a fish gulping water. It worked incredibly well for me, and he would think it was good for him until he stumbled out of the bar and into my waiting knife—which looked to be happening now.
Mark stood up unsteadily, took his last drink as a shot, and grabbed the ass of the waitress I’d sent over.
I gritted my teeth, pissed that I had sent the poor girl over there to begin with but promising I would make him pay for it with each stab of my knife.
I took a sip of my own drink, feeling the burn down my throat, before getting up, trying not to look suspicious as I followed Mark out of the side door of the bar.
The metal door banged against the brick of the building as we both went outside; in the short amount of time it had taken me to follow him out, he’d whipped his dick out and decided peeing on the side of the bar was a good idea.
I slipped on my mask and crept behind him, the rain covering the sound of my footsteps, and then I wrapped my hand around his mouth, stifling the yell he tried to release.
“Try to make a noise or a move and your little dick will be joining the rain on the ground,” I hissed, my voice concealed by the changer I had built into my mask.
He nodded his head frantically, but I still didn’t move my hand, not trusting him in the slightest to keep his word.
I jerked my knife against his throat, not giving him a chance to tuck himself back into his pants before throwing him into the back seat of my waiting car.
“Please,” he begged.
I wasted no time slamming the butt of my knife into his temple, effectively knocking him out.
I shut the door, nearly catching his foot, then calmly walked to the driver’s side, started the car, and drove through the alley to make my way back to the coffee shop where I’d first laid eyes on Anora.
In some twisted, fucked-up way, I wanted her to realize that Mark died because of how he’d treated her in the short time they knew each other. I wanted her to think about me, the stranger from the coffee shop who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Would she be flattered knowing there was someone out there willing to burn down the world and all of her enemies in it for her? Or would she think I was a monster? Would I be a man whom, if she knew what was good for her, she would make sure to stay away from? It was a risky game, but hey, I was a man who liked games.
Mark’s snores filled the car; I rolled my eyes at his noises, looking forward to shutting him up once and for all.
I knew that there was a darkness inside of me, just like there was with everyone else. Some people decided to keep theirs buried, while the rare few of us decided to feed it and let it rise to the surface, fueling our rage and darkest desires.
I was tired of holding the monster within me back and had unleashed the beast when I lost my sister in such a horrific way when I was younger. Now, when I saw a sleazy man like Mark who had no respect for boundaries or women, it was hard to tame it.
I know not everyone turns to murder to avenge those they’ve lost, turning to self-destruction instead—and I did do that for a while, but I’d thought about how Leila was just one of many girls that the men from the alley had or would hurt, and I couldn’t let them continue to add victims to their roster.
Death was final for them, and a blessing for women everywhere.
It wasn’t long before the huge skyscrapers of the city transformed into the mom-and-pop stores where Anora lived. In Portland, there was the big city, and then there was the smaller city. It didn’t seem like there would be much difference between the two, but the kind of people who lived and worked in one versus the other was enough to set them apart. The big city was for hungry, wealthy businessmen, whilst the small city was for those who had to work for what they wanted, where nothing came for free.
My murderous agenda didn’t discriminate.
Mark began to stir right as I pulled into the alley next to the coffee shop, and I laughed to myself. If there was one thing Mark was good for, it was perfect timing.
“Rise and shine,” I sang as creepily as I could, my altered voice making it that much eerier. I got out of the car and grabbed him from the back seat before he could make much commotion, slamming him onto the cold ground, the air leaving him with a whoosh .
“Please,” he begged again, bringing himself up on his knees, his hands pressed together like he was praying to me as I stood before him, knife in hand.
“What are you even begging for, Mark? Do you even know the plans I have for you?” I replied, waving my blade slowly, tauntingly, in front of his face.
“You’re not going to hurt me?” he stammered, sounding so hopeful it was almost laughable.
“Now, did I say that?” I said, slashing my knife along his arm in one quick movement.
He cried out, grabbing for his arm. If only he knew this was just the beginning of the hurt I planned to inflict upon him.
“What do you want?” he screamed, his eyes searching behind him like he thought maybe someone would see us and save him.
“I want to play a game,” I whispered, crouching down to ensure he made direct eye contact with me. I wanted to drink in the fear in his gaze, to make sure my eyes were the last things he saw before the light faded from his.
He whimpered as I levered my knife to tilt his chin up. “What kind of game?”
“Guess where I’m going to stab you next, and I promise I won’t twist it in too deeply,” I cooed, and the dark stain on his pants told me I was doing a fantastic job of putting the fear of God into him.
“I don’t want to play that game,” he cried, his body beginning to shake. “I want you to let me go.”
“Those aren’t the terms of the game. So, I guess you lose, Marky Mark.” I growled before raising my knife-wielding hand above my shoulder and slashing diagonally across his chest. I then plunged my blade into his gut and twisted repeatedly, watching the blood leak from his wound.
He fell back; his hands still raised above his face like he thought that would stop me. I followed him down, stabbing him as he went, wanting to mutilate every square inch of his body. Blood began to pour from his lips and gurgle in his throat as he lay on his back.
I felt myself go into a rage, losing count of how many times I stabbed him. The light had been extinguished long before I stopped, and I took deep breaths to attempt to control my breathing.
I took a gloved finger, dipped it into Mark’s blood, and drew a gory heart next to his head. It wasn’t his entrails like I’d done with my past victims, but I didn’t always go that route. I simply liked to make something beautiful out of the filth of these men.
I wiped my bloody knife on my T-shirt, then peeled it and my leather gloves off, exchanging it for a clean gray hoodie to conceal what I’d done. I opened my trunk, threw everything into the duffel bag stored there, and took off my mask. I placed a ball cap on my head and acted like nothing had happened as I got into my car and drove away.