Alamort

48. Malice

My Chemical Romance – Mama

N o matter how loud the room is, I’ll always distinguish her high-pitched shocked scream, even if it was barely a whisper. She’s like a beacon in the night. A lighthouse that guides the mentally insane towards her. She calls to the darkness that people are embarrassed to admit they have.

Evil doesn’t discriminate, it lives in everyone.

The carnie shut off the lights at the attraction when I handed him a crispy one-hundred-dollar bill.

‘Everyone has a price’, is what Crew would say. It seems he knows a little about how people work. If the worker of the attraction I’m stalking had said no, I would’ve considered killing him. That word is unwelcome in my vocabulary.

The vibration of each scrape of the metal baseball bat against the ridges of the Devil’s throat feels pleasant in my arm. I’m a considerable distance from the frightened crowd of people at the opening of the mouth of ‘Hell’s Half Acre’ maze.

Their screams die down from the initial shock of the complete absence of light. The steady thump of my steel-toed boots resonates through the metal throat of the Devil, growing closer and louder with each step. The locked entrance will be enough to send some people running back towards the group to keep up. I couldn’t have Priya Carter slipping through the cracks and escaping.

The sound of hurried footsteps reaches my ears, gradually turning into hesitant, cautious steps, numbering no more than ten following close behind. Among the group, a guy leads the crowd with his overconfidence, dressed as a shirtless pharaoh and donning the distinctive neme headpiece with lappets.

He steps deeper into the throat of the Devil, his sandals scuffing on the ground, closer to me, taking charge to lead the group through the windowless maze of metal tunnels that lie ahead. Rats in a maze.

“What was that?” A meek bunny asks, clutching onto her friend’s hand.

A chorus of “Shh!” and “Shut up!” Ring out. My steps never falter. The bat grinds against metal, emitting a piercing screech that would make most people cringe. A few muffled whimpers escape from behind people's hands. I inhale the stench of their fear, metallic and bitter, with a hint of rubber from the tongue of the false mouth, so potent in a small space. The people who realized the locked door have trickled in towards the small group gathered 6 feet away from me. I stop. The screech and pounding of my footsteps with me. It remains silent.

Only heavy breathing surrounds me. The last woman, in stiletto boots, slowly tiptoes her way into the back, her steps timid and hesitant, arms tightly crossed over her stomach. The foreign sensation of my cheeks lifting underneath my mask intensifies at the same time as my heart thumps, completely mesmerized by her presence. It’s unlike her to show anything other than deceit around so many people. The dark always brings the truth to light. Something along those lines.

The pharaoh who has proclaimed himself the leader cautiously makes his way toward me, unaware of my proximity, stopping 3 feet in front of me, perfect hitting range.

How much force would it take to hit him hard enough for his head to fly off like a baseball? It’s unlikely but an exciting experiment. I’ll have to pocket that idea for later.

He squares his shoulders, standing taller when nothing happens. It would be easy to believe he was unafraid, if not for the relentless thumping of his pulse trying to jump out of his throat.

“See? It’s fine.” The pharaoh laughs weakly, turning his back to me and facing the small herd that’s accumulated. Saint’s piece of shite father was right about one thing. It’s a mistake to turn your back to a predator. I prefer the fight, but no one ever said life was fair. “The noise was probably further down. It’s Halloween. We’re supposed to be scared.” He scoffs. Just as he takes the backward step that invades my personal space, I swiftly remove the bat from the wall, swinging at his tibia.

A satisfying crunch on impact. The sounds of the bone breaking sends a shudder of pleasure through my body. His wail is a little more feminine than I thought it would be, disappointing. My lips purse, holding in a manic laugh. He sounds more lady-like than the girls in here do. Before his dramatics end, a horde bursts through, trampling over him. I suck my teeth. The people who wanted so badly to follow him to safety left him for dead. Well, not literally. I have no interest in killing him when what I want is inching quietly towards me, using the wall for guidance.

Gently, her fingertips glide over the grooves in the wall as Priya scans the darkness, her eyes straining to see, making her way cautiously around the outskirts of the people huddled together.

She takes careful steps, trying to mask the sound of her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. I tilt my head, a smile still playing on my lips at her feeble attempt to be sneaky, but it’s immediately overshadowed by her outfit. Or lack thereof. Clad in a black corset, her breasts are lifted and appear larger than her natural size. To complete the ensemble is a black thigh harness, which fastens the all-black lace tights in place, leaving a sliver of skin bare on her upper thigh. Her straightened hair is purposefully in messy pigtails that frame her heart-shaped face. The diamond collar left by the Demons adorns her neck, signifying our ownership. I bite my knuckles to suppress a groan, skin breaking beneath my teeth. She looks edible. What is she supposed to be?

The clatter from the bat dropping halts her mid step. Her breath quickens, and she puts her hand over her mouth to smother it. It wouldn’t matter. Not for her, anyway. She’s the reason I’m here.

“Happy Halloween, love.”

She releases a shuddering breath, removing her shaky hand from her mouth, her shoulders relaxing at my voice.

“Shadow?” she whispers.

Shadow? That’s new. It’s safe to assume that she’d come up with her own name for me, getting off on not knowing who I am. She crosses her arms and pops out her hip, drawing my attention to her long and slender legs. This differs from the way she was holding herself moments ago.

“Are you going to hit me with that thing, too?” She asks. Her eyes search for me, talking to the opposite side of where I am. It’s how I would imagine someone who was newly blind to look around. Lost.

“Is he dead?”

“Who?”

“The guy you assaulted for no reason!” She hisses like she cares.

Oh, him. I’d almost forgotten. I look him over, his chest rising and falling. He must’ve fainted from the pain. Pansy.

“He was cocky.” I shrug.

“Are you wearing night vision goggles?”

A topic change to something she’s more comfortable with. Avoidance is key with her.

“No.”

“Then how can you see me?”

“I thrive in the dark.” I tell her. Keeping it short and simple.

She scoffs, throwing her hands up in the air before taking slow measured steps past me, hand back on the wall for help. My hand shoots out, grabbing her wrist, forcing her to stumble to a stop. My grip prevents her from breaking her ankle without help.

“Where do you think you’re going, Little Monster?”

“Uh, the fuck out of here to find River.” My grip loosens as she shuffles forward. She’s always with River. Stays with River, eats with her, spends most of her time with her. My eyes narrow while I press my lips together, not wanting to anger her further. We’re long overdue for a chat, River and I.

“You claim we’re so different. But you didn’t bother to check on the guy who was just trampled by people?” I ask smugly. She stops again. I can see the war going on in her head, the lie on the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t want to admit she’s anything like me, but her actions prove otherwise.

“He wouldn’t have thought twice if it was me,” she says quietly, stepping past him and continuing to move deeper, her heels clicking confidently.

“Best hope I don’t catch you.” I say in a singsong voice. The metal bat drags on the ground to let her know I’m coming. My body trembles at the thought of catching her off guard and having fun with her.

“You owe me some answers, Shadow Man. You don’t get jack shit until I get what I want.” Her tone is flippant but the way she was biting back a smile tells me she’ll play with me, anyway.