“Who are you?” Mothman asked telepathically. His voice was a dark, garbled mess accompanied by static that made it hard to understand. I leaned on his throne and smiled up at his face.
“I’m Ava, don’t you recognize me,” I said, trying to mimic Ava’s voice. I broke off in a laugh and reached up to touch one of his antennae. Gently, I pulled it through my hand. He winced, one eye closing as he felt me give it a tiny tug. He was a weird one. Then again, weren’t we all?
“Ava?” Caspian asked with wide eyes. I pushed off Mothman’s throne and leaned against Caspian’s. He eyed me in confusion. Poor guy didn’t know what to do.
“Ava is taking a little nap. Don’t worry, I’ll try not to get her killed.” Try being the operative word. I gave Caspian’s cheek a few good pats and he flinched.
“I told you to kill that cult leader,” I said, pointing over at Ben. Caspian’s eyebrows furrowed.
Murmurs started from the crowd and I pushed from the throne, walking towards the edge of the platform. My eyes scanned the group. Animal skulls and robes felt uninspired and fake in my professional opinion. My own tribe wore similar regalia on occasion, but we hunted our own. Tanning hides, eating flesh, and cleaning bones. There was tradition and solemnity—we didn't just buy them online to put them on for a weekend festivity.
I rolled my eyes and jumped down from the platform. Several people jumped back to make space. Ben’s head jerked up from Brandon’s body.
“Where are you going?” He hissed. All his fake charm was gone, leaving an angry, vile person in its place. I spun around to face him properly.
“Me? I’m not going anywhere.” I laughed.
“Get her,” Ben snapped.
“You all, on the other hand, are going to Hell.” I didn’t sound like Ava at all. My voice was raspy and deep. I’m sure it was disturbing to hear my voice from our girl’s mouth. I sent a pitying smile at her harem. The human one was looking pretty rough. Actually, he seemed pretty dead.
Hopefully, she wasn’t too attached to that one. Truthfully, I knew she was. It’s why she’d retreated to the recesses of our mind. I couldn’t even feel her. No doubt she’d be back though because I wouldneverlet her disappear. She couldn’t escape me. I’d bring her back kicking and screaming to the surface if I had to because Ava and I were forever.
Later though. Right now she could pout in the corner while big bad Makwa handled the messy bits. Frankly, and I didn't mean to brag, but I was an artist when it came to killing. I liked to take my time and savor each one. Sadly, tonight was not going to involve a lot of savoring—it seemed to require a bit more butchery and a pinch less finesse.
A person ran at me and I threw up an arm. Black shot from the hand. My tentacle wrapped around them before flinging them about thirty feet. They flew through the air. As their body wrapped around a tree, their screams cut off.
“Well, there goes my cherry, so who wants to be next? Step right up and meet your maker!” I said, turning back to the crowd. Everyone was silent and still. “A lot more to go,” I said with a booming laugh. Fuck, I loved a good mass murder. A mob was the best. I relished the savory taste of a crowd suddenly realizing they were no longer dishing out the punishment, rather they were about to receive. There was no better compliment than a collection of humans running and screaming from me in terror.
“Let’s do this then,” I said with a smile, flipping Ava’s hair over her shoulder. Well my hair, over my shoulder at the moment. I liked getting in touch with my feminine side, especially when I could fuck my feminine side later.
“What is this?” Ben asked, looking at me in confusion. “What are you?”
“I’m what you get when you kill the wrong person.” Ben’s face twitched towards Brandon but I didn’t mean him. I meantme. Don’t kill a pissed-off witch or you will get one fucked up ghost. I mean really, what does one expect? Witches can control the dead after all. Sometimes killing them just makes them stronger. An unfortunate truth for this clan.
I smiled and let my black ichor expand from Ava’s body. People pushed the skulls from their faces and looked on in revulsion and awe as wispy little tentacles wiggled out of my back.
Arms wrapped around my body from behind, getting me in a tight hold. Panic raced over me.
“Don’t do that,” I growled. Black shot out in a spike from my back, spearing through their chin, then through the roof of their mouth and up to their brain. They fell off me but I still felt disgusted. I didn’t like people touching me,especiallygrabbing. It reminded me too much of long ago. Of my brothers and sisters attacking me and then damning me to that cursed cave for hundreds of years.
Rage roiled up in me. I turned around with a snarl, shooting black from my hands. This crowd was too much like my tribe and I was still owed vengeance. I’dalwaysbe owed vengeance and I’d take it from anyone I wanted to.
My black twisted around the closest person and I began squeezing them harder and harder. Sick, furious pleasure ground inside me. My thick tentacle pulled the person in closer so I could watch them scream out and bleed from their orifices. I felt their bones crack and grind. I felt their organs swell as I kept squeezing until it all justpopped.
Pleasure wasn’t really the right word for what I felt killing them. More like peace. Too bad it cost me all my attention. Something hard smacked the back of my head.
“Ouch,” I garbled out, my head swimming, my eyes twirling. Shit, I wasn’t used to having a body.
“Ava!” Caspian screamed. I tried to say she’d be fine. A little bump on the head wasn’t so bad. Except instead of talking, I fell to the ground, groaning and grabbing the back of our head. I could feel Ava’s mind again, rolling close to the forefront.
“Look!” Someone shouted, pointing up towards the dais. Brandon’s chest slowly moved up and down, still coated in coagulating blood. His fingers twitched. My vision doubled and moved as I tried to focus. I stayed on the ground, watching with everyone else.
His fingers gripped the edges of the dais, his knuckles turning white with strain. When he lifted himself up, his chest was a mess of blood but within that mess, I could no longer see a wound. It was hard to tell though. The only light was flaming torches and the white moon.
When he sat up fully, the skull stayed on his face. He grabbed it, trying to pull it off. His fingers slipped under the sides, fumbling under the lip and trying to tug it off.
I could hear his dismay from here since everyone was silent. Brandon didn’t have words for his panic, just heavy breathing, little gasps, and strained grunts as he tried to pry the mask from himself. Finally, he gave up and swung around his head, his eyes behind the deer skull searching the crowd. Ava swelled up more towards the surface when his blue eyes found us—fear, dread, and panic inside them.
