Chapter VII
The Monster
Cassandra sleeps so beautifully here, like an ethereal goddess. When she is at her own home––though, prison is the better term—she thrashes and screams in her sleep, tormented by her abuser. Some nights, Cassandra is unable to sleep at all.
It is comforting to see her at peace after even just the short time we have spent together.
Maybe there is a possibility she will want to stay with me.
I would worship the ground upon which she walks.
I would bleed for her, sacrifice my life for her…
no ask from her is too much. If she desires that I die for her—I will.
As I watch her from beside the bed, I admire the smoothness of her porcelain skin.
Her long eyelashes flutter as her chest softly rises with each breath.
And…just there––I never noticed them before, the ash-colored freckles that smatter her nose.
Wonder consumes me. How could someone be this delicate and perfect?
I want to bundle Cassandra up in my arms and keep her there, safe, forever.
A weighty sadness dawns upon my soul, heavy like the pressure of deep water dragging me down to meet the ocean floor.
Water fills my lungs, and everything burns, igniting my chest with horror.
How could someone hurt her? How could someone hurt her?
That they would choose to do terrible things and not love her the way she deserves wounds me greatly.
The townspeople call me the monster, but the real monsters stand by someone so violently horrible, like her husband, and do nothing about it.
Guilt gnaws at my bones. Perhaps I should have done more, or done something sooner. I will spend the remainder of my life, however long that may be, atoning for my failures to Cassandra.
She is mine. Neither the town nor her husband can have her back.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Under the cover of darkness, there I lurk within Deadwood Forest, blending into the shadows.
With a narrowed gaze I spy on the diminutive town of Rose Falls from above, speckles of golden light that glow beneath me.
The one entrance to this town is also the only exit.
Nestled securely in a ravine, they built their houses into the rocky cliffs, and rickety wooden bridges connect one side to the other.
Rose Falls exists in its own universe. The laws of the outside world do not apply.
Above the ravine lies Deadwood Forest, which surrounds the mini-canyon and renders Rose Falls invisible from above. If you are not looking for this place, then you will never know it exists, and even then, you might not make it to the town alive.
Alarms ring through Rose Falls, louder than anything usually heard at this late hour. Shouts rise like smoke, thick with panic, and at the center of this chaos is Cassandra’s dutiful husband. Clayton.
Clayton realizes she’s missing, given the way he points and makes demands of those around him.
You would think he cared, was desperate to get her back at any cost. Even from here, I see the flush in his cheeks and the furious throb of a vein in his neck.
He is desperate to get her back, but only because he cannot stand the thought that someone has taken what he thinks is his.
My nose wrinkles in disgust, a snarl forming as I watch my prey.
The very sight of him, with greasy, slicked-back hair and a stained shirt pulled taut across an overhanging belly, makes me wish that I could tear his limbs from his body while he is alive and screaming.
I would pluck out his eyes and feed them to the birds.
The devastation that I would deliver upon Clayton would not stop there—no, I would sever his flaccid cock with a blunt serrated knife and then shove it down his throat deep enough to make him choke.
If I could I would resurrect Clayton each time he died, ensuring that he suffered eternally. That is what he deserves for the crimes he committed against my Cassandra.
But I can’t go down there and end his rotten bloodline, as much as I would like to. Unfortunately, Mayor Clayton is too protected and too loved within Rose Falls to ever be vulnerable, and he is too smart and too lazy to go wandering through the woods in which I hunt.
He knows people go missing when they near my castle. My hunger for the vile includes finding a particular satisfaction in flinging their remains for Rose Falls to see. It serves as a reminder to fear what lurks in the dark, for I am there, haunting. Hunting.
I expect that Rose Falls will be looking to Deadwood Forest and my castle, Gloomstone, for answers on Cassandra’s whereabouts.
No one in the town would dare touch her or aid her in escaping, not unless they wanted to feel the anger of the mayor and the vermin he employs.
No, they would be looking at me—the monster in the dark. They would anticipate finding Cassandra’s body viciously mauled as if by a beast, ruined and defiled.
They would not imagine that Cassandra is safe within the walls of my home, sprawled out in my bed, her chestnut hair fanned out against the silk pillow, body flushed from my tongue.
The castle is where she belongs, where I can worship her like the goddess she is.
My tongue flicks out, salivating for my soon-to-be queen. The taste of Cassandra is still on my lips. She is heaven, and when I feed from her, I forget myself, my own name.
My wicked angel.
This malevolent town wants to steal her away and return her to her chains.
That will not happen. I will not let that happen, as long as I draw breath.
If they come for her, I will peel the skin from their bones and boil them alive.
When it comes to Cassandra and keeping her safe, I will not be a good man or even a good monster.
I will become the very worst thing that could ever exist for Rose Falls, because I finally have someone worth living for.