I read her emotions like a book. Her eyes dart between the bed where her phone lays and back to the door. Her escape. Not happenin’.
Shouldn’t have brought her in here. The voices are screaming so loud I can’t think. Just need to make myself bleed. Need molly, anything to have her stop invading my thoughts.
Tie her up. Ruin her. Take what’s mine.
Anger, wrath, the fucked-up desire to destroy anything in my path. Leave nothin’ left.
It’s a sickness.
“Shut up,” I scream, doubling over. The knife clatters to the cluttered floor. I fist my hair and yank so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t rip out. Anything to silence the noise.
She gasps, and her breathing picks up. I scent her fear. “I-I didn’t say anything,” she whispers, confused by my psychotic outburst.
The voices quiet for a single moment. Slowly, I look up into her deep, hypnotizing eyes. My face is strung with a maniacal grin. “No, you didn’t," I say slowly, confirming her observation.
Have I finally hit a psychotic break? Her face twists in a confused stare. Can’t figure out if her lack of understanding and inability to stay the fuck away is her being naive or is she’s drawn to this delirious, unhinged behavior. How far she’s starting to fall, it sends a shiver of delight throughout my body. I knew she would crawl to me. Can’t wait to watch her crumble underneath the fatal attraction. I want to sink my teeth into her flesh and reel her into my delirium.
“Zain, you’re scaring me,” she breathes. She inches away, and I can’t fuckin’ stand her looking at me that way.Pity. I don’t need fuckin’ pity. I want her to bleed, to suffer the same way I’m suffering. How I’vealwayssuffered.
I don’t answer her, instead I let my actions speak for me. Bending down, I pick up my discarded knife and look her over like a meal I want to fucking devour.
Slowly, I stalk towards her, my feet thudding against the floor with each menacing step. I eat up the space quickly, towering over her cowering little body in an instant.
Her lip trembles, and her eyes plead with me. As if I was capable of anything but unrequited rage, I deceptively gently move her dark hair away from her neck. Her pulse is beating wildly. It excites me.
I scrape the blade against her jugular. “Such a fuckin’ beautiful mess,” I murmur.
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, as if I’ll disappear and forget about her if she’s listless and unmoving. Not a fuckin’ chance. She’s wormed her way into my brain like a parasite, and I fuckin’ hate it.
Cut her. Make her cry. Taste her blood and tears. Fuck her until she breaks.
“Your blood was fuckin’ delicious,” my voice drops to a dangerous octave with each word that leaves my lips. I hiss in a deep breath againsther neck, smelling her sweet salty sheen of sweat. “Want to taste you again. Fuckin’ need it.”
Her breaths come in quick succession. Her pupils dilate. “Taste me. I trust you,” her soft voice tells me on a wavering whimper.
Her words taste like desperation on my tongue. It lights something within me. The sick beast inside rumbles in satisfaction.She trusts meafter I stole her clothes and fucked her with my knife handle? I’m slowly bending her to my will…even though she’s destroying me in the process. Only difference is I’m strong enough to come out on top in the end. Breaking this hold she has on me will just be another scar I carry. This is a long game, and I don’t do attachment.
“You shouldn’t.” I laugh darkly before pricking the blade against her neck, just above her veins. One wrong move, and I could slit her throat. She groans at the pinprick of pain. A crimson river drips down her salty skin, beading down her neck. I wait, watching, before I allow my tongue to dance up her skin. I grip her upper arm so tightly she’s gonna bruise. She shivers against my tight embrace. The blood from my side has rubbed against her white sweatshirt, staining it with blotchy red hues. What a perfect sight to behold.
“Zain,” she shudders out as her eyes drift closed.
I scrape my teeth against her skin. My hands start to shake. On the verge of losing control. If I do that, I might just fuck this entire shit up.
Any other bitch would run for the hills. Not her. Wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks like the meek little thing she is. Is it fear?
Curiosity? I stumble backwards and release her. Her eyes snap open. I’m heaving, probably looking animalistic, but so is she. Her cheeks are flushed a deep pink, and I’d bet if I were to checkher cunt, she’d be fuckin’ soaked for me. She likes our fucked-up game it seems. Curiosity it is.
My voice drops low. “Are you askin’ what I wanna do or what I’m gonna do? Because those are two entirely different things, Songbird.”
Her green eyes flicker down to the bulge in my jeans. She swallows and blinks a few times, deciphering my motive no doubt.
Yeah, this is for you. Wanna fuck you until your body breaks. Choke you until you cry for your savior.
Contain the crazy, Zain.
Can’t scare her too quickly. It takes every ounce to not unleash the fucked-up side of me. Slowly, that part of me rears its ugly face. What point is too much for her? I flick my knife closed and drop it in my back pocket, calculating my next move.
