I turn my attention to Lanny.
“I don’t think so, you bitch!”
I storm toward her, and as our bodies collide with a loud clash, I jab the knife straight into her neck. I let out an animalistic cry as I wrench and twist it into her flesh, opening up the gash in the hope that I sever an artery. It doesn’t take long before I hit it, and blood sprays all over me like a broken sprinkler, misting my face in crimson. I feel feral, and I bare my teeth at the feisty woman, who tries to fight me off of her. I pull out the knife and slash her throat as she lets herself fall to the ground, taking me with her. We both slam onto the floor, and the impact takes my breath. The knife drops from my hand and falls next to us. I gasp for air and roll on top of her. Her fingers wrap around my throat, and I hook my fingers in her elbows and push them wide, causing me to collapse to her face. I open my maw and clamp down on her nose. She cries out as I twist and tear until the organ rips free. The taste of copper fills my mouth, but Idon’t care. Blood is not unfamiliar to my taste buds. I spit it out, and with a wet squelch, it lands next to us.
I reach for the knife and pry it off the floor. Despite my slippery hands, I still manage to jab it with vigor into her eyeball. She wants to reach for it, but the blood loss finally starts to take its toll, as Lanny begins to weaken. I plant the knife wherever it allows me, the blade sinking into her flesh over and over.
Seeing her friend slip into unconsciousness from my relentless assault makes Tawny realize that I was never on her side. Our interactions each time were coincidental and selfish on my part. She snaps out of her defensive stance and launches herself onto my back. From the corner of my eye, I see Jasper move, but I shout for him to stay away. I made these three women a promise. I told them I’d be worse than him, and I plan to make good on my vow. Reluctantly, he listens to my command, but he keeps a watchful eye on me. His body is tense, fists clenched, the crowbar tightly in his hand, ready to strike if needed and kill these women himself if they hurt me in any way.
Tawny wraps one arm around my throat, trying to suffocate me. The knife still in hand, I take hold of her arm, and she understands something is wrong. She tries to pull back, but I hold on to her firmly. Without hesitation, I plant the blade into her scarred flesh, repeatedly, like a maniac who’s unable to stop stabbing. Her muffled moans sound as if she mimics patients from an asylum, unable to form words without her tongue.
She lets go, and I spin around, still straddling her dying friend. I get on my feet and I jump on top of her to continue my whirlwind of an assault. The knife smoothly slices in her tissue, the blade scraping against bone that’s no longer protected by its soft cage. Blood pours from the gashes all over her body. Her arm, her shoulders, her back. I move on to her stomach.Stab, stab, stab. More blood.
I want to look her in the eye, like I had done with Lanny, as hope begins to die, like brittle bone scorched in flames. Perhaps I should reunite her remaining eye with the one that still sits in the fridge.
As a final fuck you, I drag the knife across the corners of her mouth. Opening up the ugly scars, redoing Jasper’s work that Marvin had tried to cover up. I leave Tawny to bleed out as she collapses next to her friend. She stares at me, confusion written all over her face, not understanding why I am doing what I do. She had expected to find solidarity within me, from woman to woman. But how do you explain to someone that all of this, is me protecting what ismine? The one person she hates, while he’s the reason for my existence.
“You escaped the worst of it… You should have stayed away,” I whisper, as I plunge the knife right beside her heart. I have no intention to give her a quick death, but I can feel her chest pounding. I twist it, tearing the skin open further, and pull it out.
With my face covered in freckles made of blood, I point the blade at the woman, Annabeth, who’s still rocking herself back and forth. She doesn’t even glance at me.
None of it matters. Jasper was right at the cabin, even though he didn’t say so; there was a hesitation in letting these feral women cheat death. Yet Death, at some point, still comes to collect. I understand now that letting them live was never a humane thing to do; all we did was give them borrowed time they could never repay.
I walk over to the hunched woman and grab her hair, dragging her to her feet. She screams and cries, slamming her fists against my chest. I slam the knife straight into her ear, perforating her eardrum. The wail that escapes her throat makes me wish I could do the same to mine to snuff the horrid sound out.
I knee her straight in the vagina, and her bloodshot eyes bulge from the unexpected impact as her body collapses. I twist and pull the knife out, causing blood to spurt from her mangled ear.
I position the knife against her throat and slice with all my might, the flesh giving way to the sharp edge of the metal. A sea of crimson pours from the gaping wound. She sinks to the floor, and once more I lift my knee, this time straight into her face. My bone connects with the tenderness of her nose, the fracturing that occurs a sickening noise. She falls flat forward, her eyes still.
I furrow my brows watching her, when Jasper steps next to me.
“I think some bone splinters found their way into her brain. It can happen.”
I kick her lifeless body, and she rolls over, a human-sized ragdoll, her face expressionless.
“Get your camera,” he says, as he catches me staring at the body in a trance.
Not wasting any time, I step over the body and hurry to find what I need. My fingers itch to capture the strange beauty that only death can bring.
I hear Jasper dragging the bodies to the room where I made my earlier images. The fact that I have three bodies to work with makes me giddy with excitement. I just know, I will be able to find beauty in their hideous ugliness.
Chapter Twenty-One
Iwince slightly as the skin on the inside of my thigh parts from the pressure of the sharp blade. Jasper’s tongue invades the wound, his saliva hot and soothing. Softly, he sucks on the gash, drinking my life essence. He hoists himself up, his erect cock pressing against my slick folds as he leans in and kisses me. I taste myself on his lips, the metallic flavor spurring me on.
Jasper slices his palms and presses one of his hands against my mouth. Eagerly, I lap up his blood. He cups my face, the warmth that floods from his open wound coats my skin, and it’s a different kind of bliss, one of belonging and unification. His fingers trail along my neck and collarbone until they rest on my breasts. A river of red is left in its wake, as he explores my bodyfurther. The sensation of being painted in his blood makes heat bloom between my thighs, making me drip with arousal.
A crimson stain formed there from my own wound, and he clamps his hand over it, mixing our essences.
“Take more,” I whimper.
Without a word, he picks up the cold steel, and the sharp tip draws a new line across my flesh. I bite down on my lip to bear the stinging pain. Carefully, he carves into my skin. I suck in a breath as he continues, making sharp lines, and I realize he’s writing. I try to lean in to read what he’s cutting into me, but he pushes me down, one hand splayed on my stomach.
“Patience, Starling. It’s a virtue for a reason,” he growls. I can tell he’s struggling to restrain himself, and honestly, all I want to do is wrap my legs around him and force his mouth onto my pussy lips.
I stare at the ceiling as he continues his torture. Each line bites more, and a tear escapes.
“There,” he says approvingly.
