Chapter 19 #2
A smile tugged at my lips as I considered the irony. Here I was, drenched in blood, being lectured about subtlety.
I met his gaze. Anyway, he was right, as much as I hated to admit it. Drawing too much attention could spell disaster for both of us when I was this close to my goal.
“Fine,” I muttered. “But I can’t promise I’ll be a saint.”
The bastard smirked, hauling two bodies over his shoulders. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
The stained-glass windows and the scent of incense invoke memories. My mother used to take us to the Church every Sunday. She believed that God there could take away whatever demon was inside me.
I still visit Churches, though this time not to exorcise the demon inside but to unleash it.
I pulled the cigar from my coat and lit it. Putting the bud in my mouth, I inhaled and let the smoke rush through my brain, and puffed out.
In twenty-nine years, I’ve never committed a mass murder impulsively.
One would think it would be satisfying, but instead, there’s a hollow where my heart should be according to human anatomy.
Was it normal that only a few emotions surged through me—rage, thrill—but never have I felt this out of control?
For a woman on top of that.
She consumed my thoughts, an obsession that burned hotter than anything I’d ever known.
I wanted her.
I wanted to possess her, to make her mine in every way.
The thought of her screams sent shivers down my spine like a fucking melody I long to orchestrate. I didn’t even like music.
I imagine hurting her, breaking her, watching the light dim in her eyes. And then, I would caress her, soothe the pain I inflicted, whisper sweet nothings as if they could erase the terror.
It was a twisted dance, this need to both destroy and protect, to inflict agony and then cradle her in my arms. She was becoming my ultimate desire, and I was lost in the labyrinth of my own mind, where the lines between desire and annoyance blurred.
The only women I cared about were my sisters and my mother. Though she eyed me as the monster she had birthed. As if her husbands were any better.
I looked up at the sky and heard birds chirping. And as much as I tried, my thoughts drifted to her. The brunette with scared-doe eyes looked at me as if I’d haul her and tear her limbs.
However, what I wanted to tear was questionable in society.
Ah, society.
An unorthodox game where people pretended to care about each other. It was like watching a play where everyone forgot their lines but insisted they were doing just fine.
People scurried around like ants, following invisible lines they had convinced themselves were important. They went to jobs they hated to buy things they didn’t need to impress people they didn’t like. It’s adorable, truly.
They call it adulting. I called it a comedy show.
Everyone was so busy worrying about being nice and respectful. It was like they were in constant competition for the ‘Most Virtuous Human’ award. Newsflash: there was no trophy at the end. Just more bills and wrinkles.
Emotions were a particularly amusing aspect. Pretending to ‘find themselves.’ They’d spend years, sometimes their whole lives, searching for some hidden inner truth. Spoiler alert: there was nothing to find. Just pick something and run with it.
And when they thought they had committed enough sins, they came to Churches to empty their glass.
The place where people seek salvation was where I found my liberation. The hymns and prayers, the whispers of desperate souls only fuel the darkness within me.
They thought of me as a monster, but in truth, I was simply free. Free from the chains of morality that bound others. Free to be who I truly was.
When I looked at these bodies, discarded like broken dolls, I didn’t see humans. I see the remnants of my redemption.
They said God forgives all, but I didn’t seek forgiveness. I seek to be understood, to be seen for what I was- a creature of pure, unrestrained will. Evil. Heartless. Cruel. And whatever my mother believed I was.
And yes, I still visited churches. But not to find God. To show Him what I’ve become.
I heard Kyle approaching, his footsteps steady and unhurried as he sorted the mess I had made. He opened the car, and I slipped into the backseat, the smell of leather and blood mingling in the confined space. I glanced down at my suit, noting the splatters and blood. It was ruined.
It irritated me.
Only if I could kill him again. And gauge out his eyeballs. He dared to look at my bird.
Kyle’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I brought an extra pair just in case.” He knew me well, too well. Always prepared, always anticipating my needs. I smirked, the corner of my mouth twitching as I grabbed the bag.
I unzipped my pants; my thoughts drifted back to her. “How’s my little bird doing?” The words slipped out, almost a purr. Kyle met my gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Probably traumatized,”
Good. She should be. My smirk widened into a grin. “Do you think she’d hug me if I showed up at her college?” I asked curiously.
And it wasn’t even funny how my dick throbbed just imagining her running into my arms. The things I’d do to her. I envisioned grabbing her waist, feeling her breath hitch as I pulled her close. My fingers would trace her spine and grip her neck just tight enough to remind her who was in control.
I wanted to taste her fear, to see her eyes widen as I whispered twisted promises in her ear.
I’d explore every inch of her, savouring every gasp, every shiver.
The thought of her struggling, trying to resist, only fuelled my desire.
I wanted to break her will, to make her realize she belonged to me, completely and utterly.
“I doubt it,” he said carefully. He knew when not to question me.
I chuckled darkly. “Always the pessimist.”
I finished changing, adjusting my tie as I studied my reflection in the window. The man staring back at me was a stranger, a monster wearing the mask of civility. And I revelled in it.
It’d be fun. And then I suddenly remembered something. “Oh, and do send my gift to my little bird.”