Chapter Nineteen
I hum with pleasure as I lean against Jasper’s chest in the warm water, the bath filled with a rose-scented oil. Lazily, he circles the washcloth over my breasts. First, we had showered, and Jasper had gently washed away Marvin’s remnants. After, he had prepared the bath for us.
He kisses me on my neck, my earlobe, and nudges his head against mine.
I close my eyes in contentment, not a single thought about the man downstairs, suffering with blades in his mouth and cut-open eyelids.
Just pure bliss. Scented candles that smell of fir surround us, their wicks crackling like wooden logs in a hearth.
“I want to see you covered in my blood. Writhing as I fuck you… hard.” He whispers the words, his breath caressing my ear, and goosebumps spread on my flesh. My breath hitches. I pause before I speak.
“I want your cock covered in mine,” I breathe.
I feel his grin against my skin. He grazes my neck with his teeth. A tingling sensation travels down my spine, straight between my thighs.
“Where would I cut you?” he says.
His tongue glides over my shoulder.
“My inner thigh…”
“While I eat you out?”
My throat tightens at the idea; a blade cutting through my flesh, while he licks my clitoris. A sharp pain soothed by pleasure. I’m glad the steam of the hot water makes my cheeks heat as well, and not just the vivid imagery in my head. I take a deep breath before I answer.
“Yes…”
“Are you getting shy?” he chuckles, picking up on my timidness.
He widens my legs and traces a line against my thigh with a finger while he gently rubs my clitoris, mimicking our outspoken scenario.
I feel my stomach muscles twitch as he increases the pressure.
He brushes his lips over my shoulder, then I feel his teeth.
A mean sting erupts as he pinches my flesh, but instantly, he increases the pressure, and I feel the orgasm building as he repeats the pinching and tracing of my flesh.
It crashes over me, and my convulsing causes water to slosh over the ridge of the tub.
“That’s it, pretty girl. Come for me,” he edges me on, and I ignore the waves I create in the rippling water as I ride out my pleasure.
I pant heavily as I recover from the intense climax.
Jasper lifts me up and twists me in the bath, making me straddle him.
I let him impale me, and I feel my vaginal walls clench around his erect cock.
I lean in, and our foreheads touch, as I roll my hips with idle cruelty.
He holds my gaze hungrily as he slips in and out of me, the stretch each time a new sensation of relish.
His strong hands imprinted in my flesh guide our rhythm.
He comes undone with a loud roar.
“Next time, you’ll be covered in my blood,” he says with a gravelly voice, and I give him a satisfied smile. “And you in mine.”
Marvin’s face is covered in pus-infested sores and blisters, covered with a blanket of crusted scarlet as if it lays his skin to rest. The corners of his mouth have crumbles of dried blood as well.
I watch as the baby pink wax slowly dissolves as the heat rises. I stir the spatula through the mixture, the beads becoming fluid. Next to his face, I place a stack of cotton pads. I turn the heat of the little machine to the max. I want that wax to burn.
When I told Jasper about my idea as we enjoyed our bath, he kissed me everywhere, loving how diabolical the idea was.
The pink wax has a slight shimmer, and as I hold up the spatula, the substance drips back into the heated bowl.
Marvin groans as he moves his head toward us, to the noise we’re making. Jasper and I are teasing each other, and we make out like teenagers without a care in the world, while our victim lies in front of us, restrained to the mortuary table.
I scoop up a large chunk of wax and smear it across his raw, peeling flesh.
A scream erupts from his throat, followed by a whimper.
The stuck razorblades rip themselves free, adding another layer of pain.
Roughly, I slap the cotton pad over the wax and press down, feeling some of the blisters pop.
I wait a few seconds for the wax to harden, then peel at the pad’s corners.
When I can grasp it, I wrap my index finger and thumb around it and pull hard.
Marvin howls as I rip off large patches of bleached, ruined skin.
Yellow and clear fluid mix with blood, like different colors of paint.
The exposed flesh and muscle remind me of fresh-cut steak at the butcher.
Marvin tries to plead with me, but all he can manage are gurgled sounds as splatters of blood spray from his mouth.
Ignoring him, I cover the rest of his face in scorching wax, then the pads.
He looks like a mummy, wrapped in cotton strips.
It makes me laugh, and Jasper chimes in with the laughter.
“I love seeing you happy. Your smile lights up my soul,” he says, as he plays with a loose strand of hair twirling it between his fingers.
“I love that you and I not only found each other in a craving for death, but that it makes us both want to be alive as well. A different kind of craving, one that makes us both desperate for the air in our lungs.”
“You literally saved me on the brink of leaving this world behind,” I whisper. “If it weren’t for your words, I never would have known the pleasures death could give me.”
Accepting my succumbing to the darkness that swelled within me was the greatest gift he could bestow upon me.
By accepting his monster with ease, I embraced my own.
I now understand that my longing for death was never about finding eternity in sleep for myself, but always about an unanswered desire to take one’s final breath.
To see life seep away in others’ eyes, rather than my own.
It’s a revelation that shifts my entire outlook on my present.
How it was so easy for me to step away from my old life, to take that leap and join Jasper on this adventure together.
To leave my mother behind, with a delayed message that I was alright and not to look for me.
The fact that she listened, only proved the fragility of our non-existent connection.
To block whoever reached out, my so-called friends, colleagues, and eventually cancel my number no longer in need of a phone.
It gave me peace of mind, the closure I needed.
The pull between Jasper and me has been magnetic from the start, him being the ocean to my moon, our energies in sync.
Even in our early days, when we would message.
Where he went, I went. Both of us wanted a love that would consume us.
A love so strong that only being melted together, to find a home in each other’s tangled ribcages, would suffice.
Without thinking, my hand reaches for the locket that rests against my chest, where his life essence resides.
The ultimate gift. One I’m planning to return.
Jasper eyes me curiously, and it makes me wish I could open my mind to him, so he never has to wonder, but I can only offer him fragments of my soul. I place my hand on his broad chest.
“I want to give you jewelry with my blood as well,” I say, my voice laced with a strange sadness. “A token of my love and devotion to you. A ring.”
“A ring?”
I nod. “Yes. It will be easier. You can take it off whenever you go to… work.”
Jasper glances at Marvin, who doesn’t seem to be conscious.
“If you are certain about it, Starling… It would be the most precious gift you can give, apart from you. If you want I can take your blood, and we can go to the city ourselves.”
Again, he gives an annoyed glance at Marvin.
“Since the person who used to handle these affairs became useless.”
I chuckle. “I am positive, my love. I want this. I want you to carry me with you, always, as I have you near me.”
He gives me a boyish grin, and I refrain from flinging my arms around his neck and from willing him to our bedroom. First, we have to deal with Marvin, the new bane of my existence.
“But first, Marvin.” The name leaves a bitter taste in my mouth as I speak it.
Jasper turns his attention to the man next to us.
He takes his pliers and yanks off one of the cotton strips.
Blood gushes everywhere. From the raw exposed flesh on his face, and from his mouth as he automatically screams, slicing and rupturing the soft insides and his tongue even further.
Jasper continues ripping off the strips without mercy.
When he’s done, all that’s left on Marvin’s face are some stray patches of ridged skin.
Blood wells everywhere, reminding me of curd that’s pressed against a weave, as a bulge forms, dark and wet.
If it wasn’t for the slight pulse on his wrist, I would have thought he’d died from cardiac arrest, the shock of pain that washed over him just now, too much. We both want him to suffer, to make his remaining time on earth seem like Hell would be his personal Heaven.
Jasper flicks open a butterfly knife and stabs it in Marvin’s leg, dragging it down.
Fabric tears as he pulls it with force. Despite the blade being freshly sharpened, it still met with resistance from the thick layers of tissue and clothes.
Marvin can only whimper; his strength to fight us becomes less with each passing minute.
I watch it unfold with merciless satisfaction.
The splitting of his thigh is like watching a geode break open in front of your eyes.
The glistening of blood like tiny shimmering shards and my hands itch to repeat it on his other leg.
However, I know Jasper needs this, and I have no plans on stealing it away from him. Watching him execute his desired revenge satisfies me as well.
Something stirs my attention. I straighten, straining to hear as I turn. Jasper has already gone still. He heard it too.
Our eyes meet.
He lifts a finger to his lips, a quiet command, then points toward the door. I tilt my head, listening. Marvin’s quiet sobs stain the silence.
The house itself is silent, unnaturally so.
Jasper takes a step towards me, moving closer, and we both hear it.
A soft creak.
We glance at each other. He hands me the bloodied butterfly knife, and I take it. I wipe the handle with my sleeve, to make its hold less slippery.
He crouches down, and without a sound, he takes hold of a medium-sized crowbar, the edges gnarly and covered in rust. He directs me to stay behind him as he takes the lead, and we slowly make our way to the door.