Chapter Six #4
Her fear feels so real because I make it reality, but if she wanted to, she could fight me. She could fight her way out of this nightmare. It would be the only way she could survive me.
No one has been that smart.
And I hope they aren’t. Feeding would truly be a nightmare if someone figured that out.
Falling to all fours, my nails click against the rocks. My movement is slow, creeping, and methodical. I crawl up the side of a mountain, using the sharp, strong points to pull me up to higher ground.
As I play with my food, the tall, slender mountains become taller, heights that remind me of Gothic cathedrals. Only this isn’t a sanctuary. Prayers can’t be reached here. She’s trapped in the torment of the Hell she has created for herself.
Unholy darkness for an unholy soul.
I climb high enough to find a plateau, crawling to the edge on all fours. I perch on the very tip, sitting on a throne of death. Looking down hundreds of feet, I fixate on Fireopal gripping the edge of the cliff with her fingers.
From here, I can smell the strong stench of her fear. I twist my bone nipple rings, growling at how good it feels to be so close to inhaling another’s will to live.
It’s all mine.
“Someone please!” she calls out, her isolated shouts all alone in the cavern of her mind.
Such a pitiful thing. It’s a good thing I’m here to put her out of her misery.
One hand drops from the edge, exhaustion mixing with the bitter tinge of terror snowing down on us. A beautiful scenery for such an ugly death. Cue the violins and sad symphonies for her to rest in pieces.
“I’m getting so tired, please!” she sobs.
So. Much. Crying.
If the ocean were empty, she could fill the basin with endless salt water.
After giving her arm a break, she switches limbs, allowing her other side to get much-needed rest.
Rest that is about to last forever. A sleep she will never revive herself from. A nightmare she can finally escape.
“Fireopal,” I hiss, her name ricocheting off the dark.
She gasps, turning her head in every way she can to see where I am. “No! No, please. Get me out! Get me out of here! Please. Please, I’m begging. I hate heights. Kill me any other way.” She grabs onto the ledge again with both hands, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Her nails are broken from digging into the solid foundation. A few fingers are bleeding, the flesh torn open, and one nail is missing completely.
That has to be so painful.
I jump from my perch, piercing her night with my body. Landing on all fours, the stone under me cracks and moves, threatening to crash into the abyss below.
“Why would I do that?” I ask, tracing her fingers with my claw.
“I love that you’re dangling here and holding on for dear life.
Eventually, you’ll be too tired to hold on anymore, and you will fall, Fireopal.
You’ll be so afraid, and it will be”—my eyes roll to the back of my head, thinking how potent her fear will become—“delicious.”
“What are you?” She looks up at me, her eyes showing how full of life she is.
I slice one of her fingers off, causing her to cry out, but to my surprise, she doesn’t let go.
Oh, what a fun game this will be!
She rests her head against the cliff, trying to catch her breath between the crying and hysteria of knowing she’s going to die.
“I’m what you fear most. I’m what hides in the dark. Under your bed. In the closet.” I cock my head to the left, slicing another finger off.
She screams so loud, her voice becomes hoarse.
“I’m why you can’t walk home alone at night. The reason you carry your car key between your fingers. I am the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I don’t understand.” Blood coats the cliff, causing it to become slick and hard to hold onto. “Why me? Why are you doing this?” Fireopal continues to wet her cheeks with frivolous nonsense.
I bend down, the scent of iron potent as it continues to pour from her fingers. “Because no one takes the attention of my mate away from me. Because you do terrible things to others.”
Her eyes harden, narrowing at me with the first sign of fight I’ve seen from her. “You are no better. You should kill yourself then if you want to practice what you preach.”
A sardonic chuckle pulsates into the space, sparks fly above, her neurons firing so fast, they decide to give us a lightning show.
I slice another finger off, and she rears her head back, yelling in agony. Two fingers are left, and they curl against the edge for dear life, her nails bending until they break.
“The difference between you and me is that I know what I am. I am a fucking monster, and I don’t pretend to be anything or anyone else. I don’t cloak who I am for the masses. I know who I am. If I don’t kill people like you, the world would continue to worsen.”
The fireworks become brighter, and when she looks at me again, her eyes widen to the size of moons, her face losing color.
“What are you? You aren’t human.”
I lean forward, and the bright lights of the electricity cracking above us illuminate my face. She can finally see who I am. I don’t know why, but I’ll find out. I’m too curious.
“I told you,” I whisper into her ear. “I’m a monster.” Using both hands, I swipe them across hers, cutting her hands from her wrists so she has no choice but to let go.
She screams, blood leaking into the air. Gravity pulls it down on her, her own blood splashing against her face.
Freeing my cock, the jaws of teeth spread open, and I stroke myself to the scent of her fear that fills every crack in the cliffs she created with her mind.
Using both hands, I twist and stroke myself, inhaling every fucking drop of her I can before she dies. Once her heart stops, so will her fear, and I’ll be pulled into reality again.
A thunderous growl reverberates when she falls so far, I’m unable to see her through the onyx depths. Her scream fades, traveling so far down, her noise is muted.
I imagine Lula screaming for me like that, begging me to set her free, to let her live. Not that I would ever kill my mate, but perhaps she would like it if I tried.
The thought alone has me coming, my orgasm mixing with Fireopal’s blood.
Bones breaking, a body becoming demolished, has fear ceasing to exist.
Opening my eyes, I stare at the broken, bleeding body of Fireopal. Her neck is snapped, her brain scattered along the wall, and her blood drips from nearly every orifice.
My black come paints her shirt, and I frown, not liking that my come was wasted on someone who wasn’t my mate.
It wasn’t her that got me off, Lula. It was her fear.
I hope Lula understands.
“CPD!” is yelled through the front door.
Using Fireopal’s blood, I speed write a message for her.
She will know it’s from me.
Smirking at my destruction, I blur out of the window.
Lula-lala-la-la-laaa.