I stop walking as Jonathan slows and tries to catch his breath, feeling safe with someone else around.
“W-we have to get out of here,” he sputters out. “There’s a-a psycho in a mask chasing me with an?—”
I know, without looking, that he’s spotted the axe in my hand. And I know when his gaze shifts to my masked face because he stops breathing for a second. The audible sound of his breath catching, nearly causes me to feel… something. Amusement, maybe? Or maybe it’s the whisper of disgust. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything other than lost or angry.
After what feels like an eternity spent holding myself together, I finally move. With a slow, deliberate shift, I lift my chin off my chest—my gaze shifting from the forest floor to the middle-aged man standing just off to my left. Just like all the other monsters, he looks… average. Jonathan’s got an average build, a neat haircut, and a well-worn but still nice shirt on. He’s dressed like he’s headed to a parent-teacher conference or something.
Jonathan’s mouth opens and closes as he gapes at me. Sweat is pouring down his face, drenching the front of his shirt. His shoulders heave up and down as he finally starts breathing again. One foot slides back, away from me, but then Jonathanfreezes. He must’ve remembered there’s another masked man behind him somewhere.
“Look, I-I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t do this to me!” he says breathlessly. “Do you know who my brother is? He’ll skin you alive.”
No. Idon’tknow who Jonathan’s brother is. That’s not my job to know any of the extra details of a monster’s life—it’s Santi’s. He’s the one who finds them online, then lures them to me. As much as I hate it to be the case, I can’t kill prominent figures—it would make too much of a splash. If Jonathan is here, it’s because Santi deemed this monster to be exterminable.
Jonathan points at me and attempts to glare.
“Did you hear me?” His voice and finger trembles, giving away his fear.
My feet shift so that they’re now facing Jonathan.
He swallows hard and takes a second step backward. “You’re a dead man! You hear me? If you touch me, you’re a?—”
I roll my weight onto the balls of my feet, bring my axe up and charge. Jonathan’s squeal of terror is cut off as he trips over himself and falls to the ground. His ass barely touches the ground before the blade of my axe makes contact with his ankle. It takes almost nothing to sever his foot from the rest of his body. Jonathan screams again, this time the terror shifting to agony.
Ah, there’s my favorite sound.
My blade comes back up only to swing back down, over and over again. The monster that was Jonathan Bale, grows smaller and smaller. His screams and attempts to flee are instinctual yet useless. He’s on his stomach, handless, footless, missing a leg and with a gaping wound in his back when I step over him. Despite his missing extremities, Jonathan attempts to drag himself away from me.
In the back of my head, I swear I can hear a little girl’s scream. The terror, the pain, the despair—it’s all there in theback of my head. My heart fractures and guilt explodes in the middle of my chest, mushrooming out until I can hardly breathe due to the weight and pain that comes with it.
I wasn’t there to save the one person who needed me the most. Selfishly, I’d put my own needs first, and left my little sister to face a monster alone. All I had wanted was a night of fun. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think that night would change my life for the worse. Now, here I am years later trying to make up for not being there for Abigail.
There’s no changing the past.
That being said, I have the ability to change the future, at least for others like Abigail. Jonathan Bale, and all of the other monsters I’ve killed since I’ve started this crusade, won’t be able to molest, hurt, or kill another child again.
This is the least I can do. Killing won’t absolve me of my guilt for failing to be my sister’s protector, but slaughtering those that need to be erased from this world is something that helps me get out of bed every day.
“You came for a twelve-year-old boy,” I tell him, my voice cold and harsh. “But the only thing you’ll meet here in these woods is the Devil. Tell Satan I say hi.”
His blubbering pleas and sobbing cease as my axe comes down for the final time. The blade splits through Jonathan’s skull like I’m cutting firewood rather than a human’s head.
I don’t realize I’m out of breath until I let go of the handle and step back to catch it.
“I love watching you work, you know that?”
My head jerks up at the sound of Santi’s voice. I hadn’t even heard him approach, yet there he is, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms and ankles crossed as he watches me. The mask he typically wears rests on top of his head, giving me a good look at his handsome face.
In the dark, I can hardly see the natural golden hue to his skin, which is thanks to his family’s Hispanic lineage. Instead, there’s a near ethereal glow to it. His dark eyes twinkle, catching in the pale moonlight filtering in through the slowly dying leaves above us. When our eyes meet, he grins. My heart flutters at the sight of that twisted gesture.
Santi gets me in a way no one else could possibly understand. He understands my need for violence and, rather than shy away from it, he leans into this part of me. There’s no fear, no disgust, just acceptance. I’m grateful for his ability to overlook my flaws.
Especially given how many of them I have.
“I won,” I announce my voice purposefully cold and detached.
Santi grins. “Yeah, you did. I guess that means you get to decide what you want as your prize for the evening.”
I suppress a shiver of desire that ripples through me as we stare at one another.
