Alamort

7. Malice

The Kill (Bury Me) - Thirty Seconds to Mars

I still smell her on my skin. The sweetest wildflower I’ve ever smelt. There’s a pep in my step and I’m on top of the world. The only thing that could make this better is if I could’ve witnessed her expression at my favorite knife drawing lines across her ivory skin. My body trembles in delight at the thought of her skin opening up beautifully under it, blood running down her body, my dick throbs with anticipation. One day.

I head to my room on the second floor to beat off in the shower with her sounds and whimpers fresh in my mind. She could’ve put on whatever facade she wanted. It wouldn’t change that, I know. She doesn’t want to die. Even though I don’t know what she has to live for. Maybe her parent’s money or maybe there’s something else. Something the Demons haven’t looked into.

After the time we spent together in the woods tonight, I don’t believe she’s capable of what they’re claiming she is. Priya lies to herself to get through the day. She’s too …soft.

Stepping into my room, I’m met with the twins. Bennett lounges on the bed while his replica sits all prim and proper on a chair. Not even a minute to fantasize about my Little Monster in peace. A name fit for the person she hides inside. Everyone has a darkness lurking inside them, a shadow that sits beneath the surface, waiting to come out and play.

I pass by with the intention of ignoring them and the twenty questions they’re going to jump me with. There’s something I need to take care of before their shake down. Strutting into the bathroom, I grab the back of my shirt and pull it off in one fluid movement met with two sets of identical dark eyes staring at me.

“Did you get it done?” Crew impatiently prods from the doorway. I toss my shirt and let out a laugh, resting both hands behind my head. There’s nothing more fun than getting underneath the skin of the brother with a stick shoved so far up his ass that he has to taste it some days. That’s a thought. How long would it take to die from impalement like that?

Usually, it’s Bennett’s job to poke the bear, but watching Crew get worked up just feels refreshing.

“Is my name Bennett?” It’s just as entertaining to plant the seed and water the idea of getting them to bicker. They’re easy to antagonize. “Do I look like I fuck around?” Throwing a quick glance at Ben. “You told me to scare her. It’s done. Now fuck off.” Scoffing at the insinuation that I can’t get a job done properly. The twins’ have known us since we were 12. A scrawny little kid then looking for a way out. I level him with a look to leave it at that before I stab someone.

Crew throws a glare at his brother. He would have fucked it up, as usual. I admit, I’m good at what I do. Good at taking orders. Bennett must see the impatience on my face, ignoring his brother entirely. He walks up with a shit-eating grin and pushes his hand deep into my pocket to pull out my monster’s nude lace panties.

“Did you fuck her?” Crew asks calmly. Bennett’s eyes light up. The little wanker gets off on shit like this.

“If you had a certain task in mind, don’t be vague next time. I don’t care about your need for control of a situation, Crew. I allow you to use me for the sake of Saint’s best interest. Don’t get it twisted where my loyalties lie.” I don’t owe him or anyone else anything. Not giving him a straight answer to his question will drive him insane.

“What did you tell Saint? So we’re all on the same page.” Unfortunately, Crew isn’t scared of me. We’re about the same size, 6’2, and around the same build. It doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop sizing him up and from the look in his eye, he’s always ready for the challenge to draw blood. Aren’t we all?

Shrugging, “I told him we were just going to scare her. Reminded him of her purpose and what’s been lost. He gets attached easily, saying ‘her sadness calls to him’.” Saint is gentle, caring, and lives in his own bubble. He’s too soft for the things we do. The blood we crave. But he understands the need for revenge even if it isn’t the way he would like. “She didn’t see my face at all during the… altercation.” A malicious smile spreads on my face at the reminder of her half assed attempt to get away. To rile the boys up, I inhale her scent off my fingers before licking up. I didn’t quite touch her the way I wanted to, but her skin itself? “Divine as fuck.”

Bennett’s lips part and his pupils dilate. Snatching the panties from his hands, I inhale them and unzip myself from my black jeans.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I have some business to take care of, but you’re welcome to stay and watch if you’d like.” Giving them a wink, my pants drop. Crew takes the hint while Ben hesitates before walking off, wanting to smell her himself.

Turning on the hot water, I finish undressing and look in the mirror. Scars mutilate my body, from my throat to my legs. Ink covers most of them from Saint’s eyes, but the memories are clear as day. Everyone who knows about us considers me to be a psychopath. Some have said I was a sociopath. There is no conclusive evidence or medical decision that’s been made. Having to live through what we have, I couldn’t protect Saint through everything in our past. I think that’s the closest thing to regret I’ll get for anyone. That’s a feeling, right?

Bringing her panties up to my face, I turn and get into the shower, my thick length throbbing for attention. One last inhale, I fist my cock, running the rough fabric of her panties over my hot, hard flesh. I squeeze to relieve some of the pressure. Creating a slow building ache that spreads through my body. I’m going to destroy her. She’ll be done when I say she is. Her screams and tears will be owned by me. Once the guys get their head out of their asses and realize their misguided intentions, it’ll be too late. Fuck, she’s going to be more of a problem than we expected. It’s going to be fun to watch the chaos she’ll cause.