I remember her. How the fuck could I forget? She’s the only one who ever managed to escape me in the thick of my downward spiral when Hollow Haze was killed. Valen hates when they get away—he’ll rip the world the apart just to drag them back to his hell, and in his mind, I’m the same.
Maybe once, I was. Maybe he’s not wrong. But as I stare at her now, all I can see is Aurelia. Her face, her breath, her disobedience, her trembling naked body covered in my script, and my knife hanging out her ass.
And for the first time in my wrecked, pitiful existence, I don’t want to touch this chick. I don’t want to touch anyone.
Just her. Just my little corpse.
My loyalty suddenly belongs to a girl who hasn’t even asked for it. She doesn’t even want me. Not yet anyway. But obsession doesn’t wait for permission—it spreads like a toxin, and now she’s nothing but a lingering, relentless erosion in my bones that I’ll never rid of.
Aurelia is the only person who’s ever truly survived me. Not this girl, hung like a piece of fucking meat, waiting to be used, abused and killed.
Not by chance or luck—but because Ilether.
Over and over, she stops me from being what I’ve always been. And the fucked-up part is…I’m not even mad about it. Not like I thought I’d be, but the temptation’s still there, it always will be. It’s imprinted into a mindset I never chose.
I’ve always let my wrath bleed wild—painted the world in chaos just to feel alive. But for her? I’d swallow every ounce of it. Chain it the fuck down, cage the monster inside me and become a graveyard of my own fury. Just to keep her breathing. Just to keep her mine.
I knew I was risking everything last night when I did what I did. I had countless chances to snuff her out in a second, but I didn’t.
Instead, I finally let loose—playing sick games without it turning into a murder scene. And yeah, she gave me hell, she’s feisty as fuck, but deep down, I know she wanted it just as much as I did. I could tell in the way her body reacted. She didn’t have to say a word.
She just needs to have every bit of fight forced right out of her until there’s nothing left but obedience and bruises. She needs to finally fucking accept what we are and let it sink into that pretty little skull of hers that she now belongs to me.
Or maybe I’ll cut out her tongue, silence her in a way I’ve been all my life.
I shake my head, caught too deep in the bizarre spiral, and I feel Valen’s eyes on me from across the room, like he’s trying to figure out what the fuck I’m thinking about.
Nah. That tongue felt way too good around my cock last night to get rid of. Choking and gagging on it like she was being throat fucked into a near death experience. Plus, her brazenness only gives me more reasons to keep fucking punishing her.
Aurelia’s a dark little thing. Pretty, small and soft on the surface, but there’s something gloomier lurking in those eyes and something brutal hidden beneath the scars on her body.
I saw it last night. There’s an angry demon inside of her and a story of how it got there. And it’s now a fucking story I’m dying to unravel—piece by piece, with every twisted part of me.
There’s a reason I’m drawn to her, why she’s the only woman to stop me from killing and I want to find out why.
Suddenly, an empty wine bottle drops and crashes to the floor behind the half-dead girl, followed by her pissing herself, the fluids running down her thighs and Valen glances back before chuckling.
“I had a bit of fun and buried it inside her tight ass for a good few hours, I couldn’t help myself.” His eye and neck twitches as his dark gaze wanders down her. “I know you like them loose.”
Then he leans around her, his body shifting and a sound, quick, wet and sucking, rips through the air. His entire hand disappears inside her stretched asshole like she’s nothing but a cavity to fill.
Her scream cracks the room in half, high and savage, but he doesn’t care, he just watches, enjoying every second of her pain.
“Yeah, the ugly cunt is ready.” His voice is calm, almost detached, as he yanks his hand out of her with a vicious tug.
My eyes shift between them, wondering how the fuck I’m going to get out of this shit. If I turn away, he’ll grow suspicious and start digging into my personal life, like he always does.
“You don’t want her?” Valen asks, his expression changing half in surprise, half in disappointment.
I lock eyes with him for a second before moving my gaze to her. She’s not making it out of this regardless. Not a chance. I can see it in the way her chest stutters with each breath, how her pupils barely reacting to the light.
An hour left, maybe less.
I walk toward her, slow and steady, like death on two legs and my hand slips into my jacket pocket. When I stop in front of her, I stare down, watching her blood leaking out like her body’s trying to get rid of itself.
My fingers find the playing card stashed in my pocket. But not just any playing card—my weapon. Black, solid metal with edges and sides like razor blades. Forged to kill and only kill. I use them sometimes, throwing them into throats or skulls. Silent, precise and cruel.
Without hesitation, I whip it out and slice it clean across her throat. I step back as her blood erupts, spraying in violent arcs from her open neck, her body convulsing and jerking as it tries to fight for a life it no longer has.