Chapter Fourteen #3
“What the fuck are you?”
The bullets are pushed from my body, clinking one after another after another onto the ground.
I step into her space until my shadow is suffocating her against the wall. My roots are quick, slithering up her body and pinning her to the wall.
Becca doesn’t even take a breath to continue screaming.
It’s driving me insane.
Urging the roots around the van, they creep inside and cover her mouth so I can finally have some fucking peace.
“Let me show you.” The stygian cloud infiltrates through her lips, nose, and ears, conquering her body.
She tries to scream, but it gets caught in her throat, choking her as she tries to call for help.
“You’re noticing that you can’t feel anything.
You can’t see anything but the emptiness of your own mind.
Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon,” I warn.
“You are paralyzed, Christina. You can’t feel a thing.
You can’t speak.” Another darkness fills my mind, and that’s when I turn to look at the van.
I’m inside Becca’s mind too. The nightmare has taken her as well.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” I whisper, diving into my two-for-one deal.
I’m standing in a typical room. Nothing special. There’s a couch against the wall. A lamp in the corner. A family photo hanging on the wall to my right. The floors are hardwood, not old or original hardwood, but new—looks cheap.
To my surprise, both ladies are sitting in chairs that look like they are from a dining table set, with a high back and big cushions to keep them comfortable.
They are tied to the chairs with barbed wire, the sharp metal cutting into their skin.
Blood drips from every wound, and Becca is still fucking screaming.
“Shut up or I’ll rip your fucking tongue out and shove it down Christina’s throat.”
Becca shuts her lips immediately.
“What are you?” Christina asks, her voice a discombobulated whisper.
“I’m…many things, but what I want to know is, why both of you are here.” I bend down, taking my time to stare at Christina before turning to look at Becca.
Their cheeks are wet with tears. Snot runs down their nose. Christina seems a little braver. Her lips tremble while she holds her head high to look at me, daring me to try anything, while Becca stares at the floor, accepting her fate.
“You must be very close if both of your fears are connected.” Being inside their mind, I can taste their pasts.
“You are best friends. No. More like sisters. Your fear is to live without one another. There’s no specific death you are afraid of; you just don’t want to lose your best friend.
Well, isn’t that fucking sweet.” I shove their chairs over, and they fall onto their sides, the wire digging deeper into their flesh.
Lifting Christina up by her hair, I set her chair on all fours, forcing her to stare at Becca. “Tell me, how do you want me to kill her?”
“What? No. No, please. Don’t hurt her. She is good! She didn’t do anything. She wouldn’t have done anything if it weren’t for me. I talked her into it. I’m the embezzler!”
I press my nose against her cheek, inhaling all that terror she’s trying to hide.
“Oh, but she did. She killed him. She had a choice.”
“So do you.” Her face morphs into a hopeful smile, as if she has found a way to twist my words against me to save her life. “You have a choice. You can let us go, and we won’t tell a soul. We won’t,” Christina shakes her head.
“What’s the worst way you’d want to die?” I ignore her attempts because they annoy me.
“Please.”
Impatient, I wrap my hand around her throat and lift her into the air, the chair coming off the ground. “I said, what is the worst way you’d want to die!” I roar, the monsters within me taking hold.
“A shark!” she answers, another sly little grin threatening her lips.
She sees no water. Christina thinks she has outsmarted me.
“A shark? That’s not that bad. I’ve killed people in more brutal ways than a shark ever could.
” I grab her face and turn it with a hard push, nearly breaking her jaw with my strength.
“And I think you forget who runs the show here, Christinaaa,” I breathe the end of her name, the nightmare becoming one with my skin.
Becca becomes locked in a long, square tank that seems endless. She is no longer bound to the wire or chair, but banging on the inside of the glass for Christina to save her.
There’s no way out of that tank. Shark or not, Becca is dead.
“Becca! Becca! No!” Christina struggles against the barbed wire, cutting open her skin in her attempts to save her best friend. “Becca!” Her scream echoes into the neurons.
Becca swims, banging on the glass in hopes it will break. Her hair floats behind her, a silken scarf drifting through the raging seas.
I point, bending down to be eye level with my new friend. “Look. She has company.”
Christina’s spike of fear is like a drug to me, a shot into my veins that soaks into the chambers of my wretched, sick spirit.
“Becca! Becca!”
Poor Becca tries to swim away, away into the endless ocean I’ve created for her. She should be struggling to breathe any minute.
The shark swims fast, coming from the deep blue shadows. A great white, the white belly unmistakable. Bubbles flow from Becca’s mouth as she screams.
Even in the damn water, she screams. It’s never-ending.
The shark plays with her, snapping onto her leg, then letting go, then her arm, and letting go.
Red begins to bleed into the water, drifting through the current.
More sharks begin to come, and Christina screams when they attack Becca all at once, ripping her head from her body.
“No! No! Becca! Becca.” She sobs and shouts, shoulders shaking from how hard she’s grieving her friend. “You’re fucking sick.” Her angry eyes narrow at me through wet lashes.
“Oh, you have no idea.” I curl over her, burying my nose into her hair to breathe in the fucking fright. “My cock is aching to be set free, but I’d never allow you to see me. I belong to my mate.”
“No one could ever love you,” Christina says, her fucking chin held up high. “No one could love anyone who does what you do. What you look like. You’re a freak of nature. An abomination. Someone who shouldn’t exist. You’re a waste of fucking space!”
I know she’s wrong. Lula doesn’t care what I am. I’ve shown her all of me. Christina’s words bother me still, and instead of enjoying another kill, I become impatient and charge at her.
My head is down, my horns are sharp, and I spear right through her heart, then swing her into the shark-filled tank. I watch as their sharp teeth rip into her flesh, tearing away her muscles and bones. Pieces of her mix with what is left of Becca while I search for the peace Lula gives me.