“Monsters…” I hear Heyman whisper. “You are allmonsters…”
I groan. “Could you stop whining? You’re lucky I don’t have you lying next to your boss right now, alright? So just stop testing my goddamn patience, Heyman.”
He thankfully shuts up, and the silence that comes with it is highly appreciated.
A strong gust of icy wind blows over me as I inhale one final drag from my cigarette, releasing the smoke into the air. Taking the cigarette off my lips and holding it between my forefinger and thumb, I roll it, watching as its ashes fall on Fred’s white shirt. And then, because I’m a menace, I bring the burning edge of the cigarette to Fred’s right cheek.
His eyes dart around frantically as his breathing turns erratic. He tries to move away, but his sprained neck prevents him from doing anything extensive.
“This might hurt,” I tell Fred, then press the cigarette’s butt into his skin.
His mouth opens in a raspy cry as his skin sizzles, and grows louder when I pluck the cigarette off the small, melting circle of flesh just above his jaw.
“Interesting,” Magner comments, just as I toss the dwindled cigarette over my shoulder.
I sniff, then pat Fred’s chest before leaning back on my heels. “Alright, buddy, I’m bored.” I yawn behind a fist and arch my back to get some of the tension off it. “And very,verytired. Unfortunately for us, playtime’s over, so you gotta go now. For good, of course.”
To my right, someone stirs. “But all you wanted was his tongue, and now youhaveit. Why are you doi–”
“Ah, yes, Heyman, do speak; take away the twelve seconds of silence you were kind enough to offer me.” I lazily roll my head in his direction. “What do you take me for, an artifact collector?I don’t just cut off body parts as trophies and let a person go their merry way. I finish the motherfucking job because loose ends and I don’t go well together.” With that, I face Fred again, flipping my switchblade to hold it upside down. A smile curves my lips as I raise my right arm, then stab the already tainted blade into the middle of his chest.
Fred’s body lifts off the ground at the impact, right before a warm stream of blood caresses my fingers and seeps into his sweaty shirt. He makes a choking sound, which would have been a peaceful melody to listen to, were it not for Heyman, who starts screaming obscenities at me the second my switchblade makes a beautiful dent in Fred’s chest cavity.
“You heartless,ruthlessmotherfucking scum! Fredrick will be avenged. I swear to you that you will suffer; I will make surehecomes to the Byrons’ aid. He willdesecrateyou, Dorran Ledger! You will be finished!”
I groan and face the bald banshee. “MyGod, Heyman, shut the fuckup, will you?” Spitting on the ground in front of him, I sneer his way, then tilt my head when he makes to start talking again.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Varsha warns him on my behalf. “He’s in the zone right now, and the last thing he needs is to gut an oinking pig while he still has work to do. So, Heyman, kindly be a dear and wait your turn, will you? I promise Ledge will scratch any itch you might have. He’s a giver, after all.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, yeah; go ahead and reveal all my secrets to the world, why don’t you.”
She grins at me. “I’m supposed to hype you up, okay? That’s what siblings do for each other.”
I smile and shake my head at her, then glance at a twitching Fred under me and sigh. “Heyman ruined the fun for me,” I tell him, then sniff and stretch my neck side to side. “Well, I gotta make this interesting somehow, don’t I? Good thing I’m veryskilled at what I do.” With a smirk that comes naturally to me, I tighten my hold on the switchblade’s handle and start pushing it vertically down Fred’s soaking-red body.
He starts trembling below me, all the while gurgling blood as his pliant flesh surrenders to me, leaving the head of the Byron family bared for my viewing.
It’s everywhere, his blood. So much of it. It’s beautiful – like a boundless symphony pouring out in abundance, simply to satiate my mad desire of wanting to watch this man meet his rightful end.
The smell of it – it’s all-encompassing. The taste of it – I can all but feel it settling on my tongue. This is bliss; this is fucking euphoria.
I pull my weapon out when it touches Fred’s navel, then bring it up so that I can examine it. Decorated in crimson, my switchblade looks otherworldly. The serpents on the handle are bathed in blood, which puts a smile on my face because after quite a long time, I finally get to say…
“Mission accomplished.” I laugh to myself, then make sure to keep my eyes on Fred’s fluttering ones as I touch the sharp edge of my blade to my tongue. With a satisfied grunt, I slowly lick the length of it, and feel goosebumps pricking my skin as Fred’s blood slides down my mouth. It hits my throat, and I swallow it a little too eagerly, shuddering a little when the riveting, metallic, and slightly salty taste overtakes my senses.
“How’s it taste?” Cignette asks.
Our gazes meet, and the smile we give each other is rightfully bittersweet.
“Like a dead bully,” I answer, then look down at Fred again. He is, to my utter delight, drawing breaths. Barely, but still.
Studying my handiwork, I press my teeth against my bottom lip and roll up my shirt’s right sleeve further up my arm. Andthen, just because Ican, I push my fingers into the bleeding cut I’ve made on my victim.
Fred’s eyeballs bulge out of his sockets as I slide my hand, and then half my forearm inside his middle, feeling the fading heat of his innards and the silk-smooth wetness of his blood.
I hear a few gasps, followed by loud heaving as some of Fred’s guards, still on their knees, start vomiting around me.
“Weaklings,” I mutter, twisting my hand inside Fred’s body. Raw meat squelches under my palms, and thin sprays of blood spurt out from the opening. My fingers press against a thick tube, and I grin, having found the leverage I was looking for.
