The Kill
Dennis
I paused halfway down the dark hall. Sean’s door was closed. Steady heartbeats were coming from inside—one fast, the other one as slow as my own. Both Vixen and Ari’s breathing were steady. Still sleeping. I continued down the hall.
“Where’re you going?” Sean asked, looking up from his poker game with Mateo. “Nothing’s open.”
“Nothing needs to be open,” I said, keeping my answer vague. It would be more fun this way. Sean loved surprises.
“Let me guess, you’re going to the cemetery?” Mateo grinned as Sean laughed. “Time for a new coffin?”
“What? No. My coffin’s perfect.” I smiled while they kept giving me shit. “I’ll be back.”
I headed into the night. It was deserted. Which I’d expected. It was nearly three in the morning. Close to my favorite time of day.
I flicked on my lighter, my eyes sweeping the streets while I walked. There was no hurry. Dragging things out was actually more fun—I liked it this way. Taking my time. Daydreaming of ways to prolong everything.
I paused at an intersection, then decided to try his house first. Vamps weren’t always home at night, but it was a good starting point.
But the house was empty. No heartbeat, no breathing, no scent.
I switched direction and headed to my next guess: Melissa’s house.
It had a heartbeat, but only one. She didn’t have company.
I set the flame to my thumb and kept walking.
The night was annoyingly empty. No humans, no cars, no lights inside houses.
Only stars and street lamps. The sound of animals scurrying past, leaves blowing in the breeze, my rattling pockets, humans shifting in their beds.
Everyone I’d heard through a window so far was dead asleep. The humans, at least.
I carried on, absentmindedly passing through neighborhoods until I wound up on Vixen’s street.
Finally, a familiar scent floated past. I stopped, considering for a minute before deciding this was the right one and diligently following.
Trailing the scent. Honing in on the reason I’d come out in the first place.
A flash of rage hit—I was beside Vixen’s house now. Near her fucking window. And the scent was growing stronger. It led to nothing because no one was here. Probably because she wasn’t here.
I killed the fire and left, this time with a sense of urgency. I’d planned to take my time and try again tomorrow if tonight didn’t work, but not anymore.
It only took a minute to find him. He was still near her house, lingering, maybe waiting for her to come home?
My fists balled as I trailed him. It made no sense that he hadn’t turned around yet.
Or run away. He must’ve heard me by now.
But he was carrying on like nothing. Like the arrogant piece of shit he always was. He rounded a corner and I followed.
“What’s up, D?” He grinned from against a wall. We were between buildings. Stores. Both closed, both deserted. Exactly what I’d hoped for. A few seconds passed before he seemed uncomfortable. “Really, what’s up?” His tone was serious now.
I emptied my pockets onto him—he didn’t react in time—and tightened the last crucifix before snapping his arm.
“What the fuck?” He yelled as I snapped the other at the elbow, easily since his wrists and neck were weighed down by useless belief.
He screamed while I kicked his right knee until it inverted.
I snatched his hands and crushed every finger, making it impossible to take the jewelry off whenever he tried.
“Dennis,” he heaved, hunched over, barely held up by the good leg, “wh—” he cut off to suck a tight breath.
The largest crucifix was affecting his breathing. Our eyes met and I smiled.
“Run.”
Kiro staggered past me. He was limping, gasping, crying out in pain. I let him go a couple blocks before leisurely starting behind. We could do this for a few miles. I was glad my pockets were finally empty. That rattling was getting annoying.
Eventually, Kiro rounded a corner up ahead. I couldn’t see him anymore but the sound of his dragging leg was loud enough. I strode behind, toying with my lip ring. It was a beautiful night out.
My fingers ran along my bracelet while I walked, slowing my pace. Giving him some type of hope that I’d forgotten about him or changed my mind. Or that this was everything I’d planned, and I was already done.
Maybe he was heading home. Or maybe… he’d gone exactly where I wanted. Secluded enough at night to do things without interruption, but public enough during the day to get the reactions I loved.
I rounded the corner into the perfect place.
Kiro was halfway down the alley. I caught up and broke his other leg.
He yelled out and crumpled to the ground.
I kneeled beside him and pulled out my lighter.
I set it to a crooked arm, holding close until the scent of burnt flesh reached the air.
He was writhing in pain. I couldn’t keep from smiling.
“It shouldn’t be so easy to learn what religion you grew up with,” I said. “Someone might use it against you. Or not, but you never know. Oh well.” I peeled off the bleeding, blistered patch of skin and tossed it aside. “Maybe you’ll be more careful next time.”
I set fire to the other arm. The bone was barely starting to heal. I snapped it again, paying no mind as he screamed.
This went on for a while. Him begging while I burned places at random, peeling the dead skin off and setting it aside.
His other arm was starting to heal. I pretended not to notice—let it heal enough for him to shake one bracelet off—before crushing it again.
Kiro’s scream pierced the air as I laughed.
I yanked another piece of raw skin off and tossed it aside.
Eventually I paused to collect the scattered dead skin.
He was making too much noise. I took a fistful and shoved it in his mouth, muffling the annoying sounds into choking.
And then I grabbed an arm and set fire to a new spot, carefully avoiding his wrists or anywhere near.
Taking that skin too soon would let him bleed out before we were done having fun.
“You know what I just realized? I forgot to really say hi.” I sat beside him.
He was laid on his back, twitching, panting, unable to speak, apparently.
“Remember when we used to hang out more?” I set my lighter to a stretch of exposed stomach, this time running it along a few inches.
Taking my time to burn a long strip instead of focusing on one patch. “I never liked you much.”
He grunted. Quietly. Trying to say something instead of screaming like the pathetic coward he was. I decided to be nice and shoved his head sideways, making it easier to spit out the wad of skin. His bloody mouth gaped as he took a ragged breath, then another.
“Is this about Emy?” he barely managed.
I pressed the fire closer, drawing a shriek of pain. I’d missed those. Maybe I’d let him be noisy, after all. My fingers dug into his skin, curling beneath an edge to slowly drag it up. His screams were inhuman as I tore the rancid flesh away, leaving it jagged at the seam of untouched torso.
He was bleeding a lot. Which was fine in this area. I planned to bleed him, anyway. An ankle twitched so I reached back to snap it. Then re-broke his knee for good measure. Then took his right hand to make sure every finger was still in shards beneath the skin.
“What did you plan to do with her?” I asked softly.
“What’re you talking about?”
“In the alley last week. Outside her room tonight. Whenever you got her alone.”
“Nothing! Nothing,” he gasped as I crushed a thumb that was on the mend, “I was just—”
He screamed as my lighter found his crotch. It wasn’t touching him—he was screaming in fear. Trying to get away. Unable to move because everything that could’ve moved him was incapacitated. His screams turned to pleas while I held the lighter in place. His jeans were starting to smoke.
“Huh,” I eyed the lighter as the fire grew, “I think this needs more fluid.” He gasped in pain while my other hand tore skin from a finger. “Don’t worry, it won’t run out anytime soon.”
“I promise I wasn’t gonna—”
His words were nothing. I watched the fire smolder and work through his pants. Burning the member beneath. Making him let out pathetic noises. Try to move. Start to cry. I laughed.
“Are you gonna kill me?”
“I should probably refill it after this.” I held up the lighter since the fire was going on its own now. “I do get tired of refilling it all the time, but what can you do.”
“Dennis, are you gonna kill me?”
I looked in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say you’re about to die. I haven’t decided if I’m gonna kill you yet.”
A look of realization at the words. I took a moment to re-break his legs, then put out the fire that had been burning through his pants.
He should be relieved but instead he was still agonizing.
His arms were slowly healing. Nowhere near completely.
But enough that the raw fingers of his left hand could move.
I pretended not to notice and let him have his moment. His hand reached to pull the largest cross from his neck. He took in a ragged breath, finally able to fully inhale. I took the crucifix from his trembling hand.
“Thank you,” I murmured. I stabbed it into his throat. His scream died to a gurgle as blood pooled. “You sound nice when you do that.”
His eyes widened as I pressed his head back and slowly dragged it across his neck.