Slowly, I push myself to my feet and spit it onto the floor.
“Bane,” I whisper.
A hum slips out of my throat before the words can, threading a melody people mumble under their breath, like they know what it means.
It wavers, climbs, stutters, fighting its way free. My head tilts to the side, loose, disconnected from the rest of me.
The hum vibrates in my chest for a second longer.
“Bane, Bane, every mouth knows my name,
Say it again till the walls do the same.
No god will stop what I will do.
… I am Bane and I’m coming for you.”
“Adam, no …” Terror detonates in his eyes.
Oh-ho, how I savor every filthy second of the panic I forced into him.
Are we all born evil?
Is this a curse given to us the minute we take our first breath, or is it something we earn as we find out what it takes to survive?
That pulsing feeling that graciously tingles your spine, driving you to become a sinner, and slowly, you grow to embrace the feeling and even anticipate it. The adrenaline that courses through your veins as you make the choice:
On which side does your soul belong?
Well, mine belongs to the dark side.
Some of us weren’t born evil, but we’ve learned to love it.
“Please, just let me explain,” Neil wails, his voice shaking.
Sweat drips from his temple and pools his torn and bloodied shirt.
I drive my punch through his face. “Didn’t I let you enough?” I pant, squeezing the knife tighter in my fist. “Wasn’t I fair with you?”
“Y-You were,” he stammers, tears carving thin lines through the dirt on his cheeks.
“You were,” I repeat, mocking him. “Then why the fuck don’t you appreciate it?”
“I do. Please, please, please,” he breathes, lowering his head as if praying. “Please, give me some time and I’ll make it right.”
I glance at him, unimpressed. “Sure. Let me just pause reality until you get your shit together.”
“Adam, I?—”
In an instant, I drive the knife into his shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. I seize his collar and hoist him into the air.
“Adam isn’t here at the moment,” I hiss.
“Please—” he sobs. “I’ll do anything.”
“Adam! Calm the fuck down!” Michael shouts at me, turning red. “Alaric wants him alive.”
“Aww. I guess I’ll just give him a warm hug, then,” I taunt, tossing his useless meat back on the chair.
