Her thighs shifted again, a small crease forming between her dark eyebrows for less than half a second before she stilled, her face going smooth.
I studied her carefully, my own cock twitching at her reaction. I ran a tongue quickly over my bottom lip, gripping my cane in one hand, my unblinking eyes trained on her face. Years, I had been watching this child grow. Grow increasingly shattered, grow only within the confines of that which thechurchallowed. Never once had I ever considered her as something more than a source of information. Not until the dear old Pastor made his little offer.
5 million seemed a steep price to pay for any human, but for the information she possessed? It had me questioning the worth of it since that day. That text message shifted my perspective on things in this room.
I stopped fucking, not because I always ended up killing my willing victims, but because I stopped feeling any interest in the act of it. All that mattered was this assignment. Destroyinghimalong with all those who followed down this path of poisonous righteousness.
But sitting here, watching her psychosis play out in front of me, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to fuck someone like me.
It had never crossed my mind because I never considered there was anyone out there like me. The rose came close, but she was still too poetic for my taste. Here in front of me was a true carbon copy, all I had to do was unveil her.
Still, my cock could want all it wanted, but fucking someone who was stuck in the loop of unquestioning obedience was too much for me. I was being truthful when I told her I liked a little fight. Knowing that she would say yes to anyone who told her to spread her legs was irritating, to say the least. If I was going to fuck her, I wanted her so obsessed that she killed anyone who even suggested wanting a piece of what sat between her untouched legs.
The only way to fix this puzzle was to push her further. To test her more.
“I’ve been thinking about things that begin with the letter ‘B’,” I began evenly. “Bleak…brutal…bloodthirsty.”
Her pale throat bobbed.
The muscles in the corners of my mouth flickered. “I’ve considered how I would kill them many times. Saving Pastor Masters for last but taking his son first. I like watching them squirm, hearing them scream. Perhaps I’ll have a special knife made just for this story. One made of bone. I’d cut places on his body that wouldn’t allow him to bleed out but would cause the most amount of pain.”
Her legs flexed again, her brows creasing.
I wondered how her mind saw things. Some read words and saw nothing but words, others read them and saw a movie play out in front of them. By her reactions, she was watching it play out behind her closed eyelids. I wondered how often she had allowed herself to imagine the death of Thomas, if she ever allowed it.
Perhaps that’s why she craved it so much, because she never allowed herself to imagine the day she would be free from all of this.
Or perhaps she had been dreaming of it for years and hearing it spoken out loud did things to her she couldn’t quite understand.
“Losing a limb isn’t a death sentence, but losing them all?” I shrugged, her fingers twitching. “That could prove to be fatal if not treated correctly. Can you imagine it in that pretty little head of yours, Scarlett?”
Her lips parted the moment her name left my lips. How long had it been since someone said her name? I had heard them all refer to her as ‘girl,’ ‘Chosen One,’ and ‘Blessed One’, but never Scarlett. It was a power in and of itself.
She didn’t know it yet, but the hooks were already being embedded into her flesh. I didn’t think it would be long before I could yank them up and tear her from the fly trap this church had been built upon.
“Poor little Thomas, his blood rushing from his wounds with every beat of his weakening evil heart.”
Her throat bobbed again, her hands shaking, trembling as her fingers dug into her thigh until finally, she reached for her pussy over her skirt.
She pressed down and frowned, uncomfortable.
My own heart thudded once when I watched her slide her hand under her skirt, swipe the side of her leg, and pull it out. She smeared her fingers together, that dark hum inside of me growling at the sight of the glisten of arousal dripping off her fingertips.
She lifted her fingers to her nose, sniffed it, and placed her hands back on her knees, readjusting herself, her cheeks slowly turning red, but her expression now clear.
Turned on by the thought of blood and she had no idea what was happening. Of course she didn’t. In theirway of life, women weren’t meant to enjoy it. They weren’t meant to get off. They were meant to be slaves to their owners, remain pure until they were married, and give their husbands offsprings.
I liked to see my women suffer, but I always gave them a taste of their own orgasm before I pushed them to their death.
I suppose not all of them died, some of them went insane and had to be locked away until their inevitable end. It was better this way. What I did was not for the faint of heart, but this one? She was curious.
I pushed myself to a stand, walked over, and crouched down in front of her. I cradled her chin within my antlers and tilted her head up until her closed eyes met mine. “It’s arousal, little sinner. Blood turns you on.” The lifeblood that courses through us, I was addicted to it.
The others had their own thing; cigarettes, alcohol, fucking, but me? Blood is what called to me. Just thinking about it used to make my cock throb with need, but it was difficult bleeding people without killing them. It was difficult finding people who would bleed willingly without their minds cracking, but her mind was already cracked, and she craved the same lifeblood I did.
She also looked so very good in crimson.
She had been denied her whole life. A life that shaped her into a monster caged within her own bones, starving for something so much darker than she would have wanted had she been born outside of these walls. Information is what I needed; blood is whatwecraved. Perhaps this could be a newfound relationship of equal opportunity.
