Chapter 18
Him
I stand in the dim light of my flat. The restless energy that has been gnawing at me all day feels like a heavy weight in my chest, urging me to chase that rush again.
I open the lid of the terrarium with steady hands, as Mercy raises her head slightly, her tongue flicking out as if she knows what is coming next.
I reach in and lift her gently onto my arm, feeling the familiar coolness of her scales against my skin.
The anticipation builds inside me, pushing away the dullness.
I prepare the small vial and the extraction tool, positioning her fangs carefully over the edge. "This venom is going to be worth every drop, Mercy." I say to her, my voice filled with that certainty that makes everything feel right. "It’ll make the moment perfect when I finally use it."
She strikes the tool as I apply the right pressure, and the clear liquid begins to drip into the vial. I watch it collect slowly, the sight stirring a deep satisfaction within me because this is preparation for the ultimate claim.
"You always give me what I need without question." I tell her, stroking her head lightly with my finger. "This will bring that high I crave so much, the one that makes the world feel alive and under my control."
I cap the vial once it is full enough, and place her back inside the terrarium with care. The boredom fades completely now, replaced by the electric hum of purpose as I pocket the venom. She is the one it is meant for, and today feels like the right time to end the wait.
I drive to the alley near her place, parking a safe distance away to avoid any chance of being noticed too soon. The high starts building as soon as I step into the shadows, waiting for her to appear.
It is that same thrill that courses through me every time I think of her, making my blood sing with possession and the promise of breaking her completely.
She belongs to me in a way that no one else ever has, and just the thought of seeing her ignites that fire inside, making everything else feel insignificant.
I lean against the wall, my mind focused on the plan for today. I intended to kill her tonight, to feel that ultimate rush as her life slips away under my hands, confirming my control over her entirely. The venom is ready for that final step, and the anticipation makes my pulse quicken.
I spot her getting off the bus, and the high intensifies immediately, flooding my veins with that addictive energy. She walks with a cautious posture, her shoulders slightly tense as if she carries the weight of constant vigilance.
Her pace is hurried but controlled, like she wants to move through the space without inviting attention. I note the way she keeps checking her surroundings, her head turning every few steps, already marked by a fear that makes her movements more deliberate.
It excites me deeply because that fear shows she feels the threat in the air, even if she does not know it is coming from me. The high peaking as I watch her every step. That paranoia makes her even more perfect for what I have planned.
And then I notice the drunk man. Before she does.
He slips out of the deeper shadow of the alley, his steps uneven, balance already compromised.
The way he moves tells me everything. Careless, emboldened by alcohol, scanning for something easy.
His attention fixes on her, sharp and sudden, like he’s spotted an opening he has no right to take.
I feel the disruption immediately. This wasn’t accounted for. Tonight had a shape to it. A sequence. Every detail considered. The timing mattered. She mattered. And now this man is walking into the middle of it, unaware that he’s stepped somewhere he doesn’t belong.
He reaches for her. He grabs her arm roughly, my irritation turns into a cold, calculated rage.
He touches her breast with one hand, squeezing as if he has any right to her body, while his other hand twists harshly in her hair, pulling her head back.
She struggles against him, her voice breaking with fear as she shouts for him to stop.
My hand slips inside my coat, closing around the weight I know so well. I measure the distance, the angle, the time it would take to end this before it becomes messier than it already is.
Then she surprises me.
She reacts fast. Faster than I expected. Grabbing what’s within reach and striking him hard enough to make him stumble back, stunned. The sound echoes briefly, then fades. He retreats, disoriented, clutching at himself as she scrambles away.
I don’t move. The plan has shifted. Not broken. Just altered.
And she has revealed something new. The moment shifts something deep inside me, turning my rage into a sharp intrigue that heightens the high even further. I observe her not as the fragile prey I first labeled her, but as something sharp and reactive, capable of lashing out when cornered.
She is feisty, I think to myself in a way that feels just right in my head. Her spirit doesn't make me go soft. It pulls me in deeper, turning my twisted excitement into real obsession.
She pushes back when cornered. That makes her perfect for me, a real challenge that will feel even better when I finally crush her will.
I let her slip away, watching as she bolts into the night toward her house.
Her shape fades in the dark, a blend of raw fear and stubborn grit that only makes her more tempting.
The rush inside me stays strong, content for now.
Releasing her drags out the game, cranking up the thrill to a whole new level.
Now, I shift my focus to the drunk guy. He's hurt bad, freaking out as he staggers off, clutching his bleeding head and swearing under his breath.
“You shouldn’t have touched her.” I murmur, trailing him slow and steady. My feet make no sound, closing in without hurry. He ducks into a pitch-black alley, figuring the shadows will hide him. But I'm steps away, invisible until the moment strikes.
I clamp down on his shoulder hard, whipping him around like he's nothing. His eyes bulge with sheer horror as he stares up at me. "What the hell? Who are you? Back off!" He stammers, his words slurred and shaky from the pain and terror, scrambling to pull away.
I don't answer his frantic questions. Instead, I pull out the syringe loaded with Mercy's venom. The one I saved just for her.
"This was for someone much more special." I say in a flat, icy tone as I jab the needle straight into his neck. "But you ruined my night. So now it's all yours."
The poison hits fast, like wildfire racing through his blood. His face twists in pure panic as the burning spreads, tearing at his veins from the inside.
"What the hell did you stick in me?" He screams, clawing at his neck like that could fix it.
The rush floods back through me, that twisted joy of taking back control. I haul him deeper into the dark alley, away from any prying eyes.
"You put your hands on her." I tell him, my voice calm but buzzing with excitement. "That was your big mistake."
He fights back weakly, but the venom is already draining his strength. "Please! I didn't know she was yours. Let me go! I won't say a word to anyone!" He begs, his voice cracking like glass.
I tune out his whining and grab his right hand.
The one that dared to grope her chest. I yank each finger out of its socket slowly, feeling the snap and tear of the ligaments.
It's like music, sending a wave of pure bliss through me.
Blood starts dripping from the mangled joints as he howls in agony.
"This hand crossed a line." I explain coolly, like I'm teaching him a lesson. "Now it pays the full price."
Tears pour down his face, mixing with sweat. "Stop! Please! I swear I'll never do it again!" He sobs, his whole body shaking like a leaf.
Next, I take his left hand. The one that yanked her hair so roughly. I crush each finger one by one, the bones cracking with sharp pops that echo in the night. His pain hits me like a drug, fueling my high as he keeps pleading.
"Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Ahh, it hurts too much." He whimpers, barely able to speak.
"You grabbed her hair like it was yours to control." I reply evenly, the thrill building with every break. "You stole a moment that belongs only to me."
His sobs turn into ragged gasps now, the venom making everything worse. "I had no idea! Just kill me already. End this nightmare!" He chokes out, snot and tears staining his shirt.
I pull out my knife and start on his chest, slicing away layers of skin and muscle bit by bit. I expose his ribs in a careful pattern, drawing out the pain as blood gushes out, blending with the venom's chaos. He thrashes wildly, gasping between screams.
"No! I can't handle it! Please, I'm begging you!" He wails, arching his back in a useless fight.
"You thought you could do anything to her and walk away." I say, my voice empty of pity but full of that dark satisfaction.
He's fading fast, his begs turning to wet, gurgling whispers as blood fills his insides. "Help... Anyone, please..." He mutters, his eyes starting to glaze over.
I spot a rusty steel rod in the corner and heat it with my lighter until it's glowing red-hot. I press it hard against his thigh, the skin sizzling and charring black in seconds.
The smell of burning flesh fills the air, and it pushes my high even higher. "This is for even thinking you could touch what's mine." I tell him, watching the damage with a twisted smile.
He jerks one last time, the poison finishing him off as blood leaks from his eyes, nose, and mouth. "I… I'm... sorr..." He whispers, then goes still, his eyes blank and empty.
The peak of the rush crashes over me, that perfect bliss of fixing my world. He's gone. No more interference.
I prop the body against the wall, spreading his limbs to show off the mess. As a final touch, I slip an iris flower near him, nice and neat. I want her to see it, to spot the pattern from my other kills.
She'll know someone's out there, watching her, claiming her, reshaping everything around her, long before she figures out it's me.
The high sticks with me as I melt into the night, that unbreakable certainty pumping through my veins. She's all mine, and soon she'll feel every bit of it.