Then, Zade approaches Xavier, the injured man’s eyes widening with fear.
“Don’t be shy, come lay with your friends,” Zade says, grabbing Xavier by the front of his shirt and dragging him to lay on the other side of Rocco.
Their agonized moans, curses, and insults blend together, and Jesus Christ, is
that annoying.
I approach them, staring down at the pathetic trio of rapists. A part of me wishes Rio were here so he could watch Francesca die alongside me. Who knows how deeply he’s suffered at her hands? Like Sydney, his pain doesn’t justify the pain he’s inflicted on others, but I do know that it wasn’t any less significant than mine.
“Embarrassing,” I spit, revulsion thickening in the pit of my stomach. “How
many girls were in your place now while you celebrated and got off on their torment?”
“Fuck you!” Francesca screams, spittle flying from her mouth. “You think
you’re better than us? I’ll see you in fucking Hell, and when I do—”
“You’ll what?” I cut in, laughing when she glares at me. I crouch down, putting my face in hers. “Torture me there, too? You will never be stronger than me, Francesca, and you want to know why? I survived you, but you won’t
fucking survive me.”
I pull a special gift I had burning in the back of my pocket and present it to
her. A heel I broke off from one of her shoes.
“Fucking choke on it, bitch.”
She opens her mouth to curse, scream—do whatever—and I take advantage,
shoving the heel down her throat, smiling when her eyes pop out of her head.
She convulses, choking on it, but I’m already standing and moving onto Xavier.
“Have fun, Sibby.”
Sibby grins while lowering onto her knees, and then crawls on Francesca’s body. Raising her pink knife above her head, she plunges it down into the slowly dying woman’s chest.
“No, no, no, wait, wait, it was all her—” Rocco begins, then abruptly ends when Zade plunges his knife directly through the side of his mouth. In through one cheek and out the other, the blade caught between his teeth.
Rocco screams, blood quickly pouring from his open mouth. I smile and turn
my attention to Xavier. He looks on the verge of passing out, though I can’t tell
if it’s from his injuries or because he’s a pussy facing the consequences of his own actions.
Probably the latter.
“Just… kill me already,” he whines. “I will beg you if I must.”
“You want me to grant you mercy? Was that what that was, every time you sliced me open? Did you have mercy on me when you raped me? Paid money and tried to buy me like I’m a fucking object so you could torment me for the rest of my miserable fucking life?”
He stutters, sweat pouring down his face, growing more desperate and
panicked. Especially as Sibby begins to remove limbs, and Zade starts to pluck
out Rocco’s eyes.
“I-I’m so sorr—”
“I don’t want your apologies, Xavier. I want your suffering.”
Before he can open his mouth and spew more useless pleas, I grab two extra
blades from my thigh strap, and one at a time, force each hand flat and plunge a
knife completely through, pinning them into the dirt.
Eyes wide, his screams mix with Rocco’s, and now that… that’s a beautiful sound.
I don’t bother removing his pants. I just raise my knife and stab it into his pelvis, crimson instantly staining his soiled khakis. I keep stabbing until his entire groin area is ravaged, and I’m panting.
Now, he really is seconds away from blacking out, so I grab him by the hair,
force his eyes onto mine, and shove my blade straight through his throat.
His eyes widen in disbelief as he begins to choke, crimson pouring from the
wound and down the front of his shirt.
I lean in, as close to his face as possible, ensuring I’m the last fucking thing
he sees.
Chapter 35
The Hunter
Usually, when I finish murdering someone, I feel all the tension release from
my body. It can be an aphrodisiac sometimes. It’s so rare not to be strung tight
that when my muscles are loose and languid, it’s fucking orgasmic. Another reason why I’m addicted to Addie and all the ways I melt beneath her fingertips.
But this time, I’m just fucking annoyed. Sibby did what she always does and
took shit a step too far. She decided it would be fun to play fucking frisbee with
body parts or some shit, so we spent an hour alone trying to locate every piece of
Francesca so we could bury them.
By the time I picked up all ten of her fingers, I didn’t fucking care anymore.
Didn’t help that Sibby decided to have an imaginary orgy directly after, forcing
Addie and I to leave until she finished. Literally.
And of course, during the two hours it took to dig and bury the bodies, she felt inclined to tell me every sordid detail of what her henchmen did to her. Or rather, what she did to herself.
I let her talk and tuned out the parts I didn’t care to hear. Sibby’s never had
real friends before, and despite how badly I don’t want to hear how she got railed up the ass, I refuse to set an example of friendship by silencing her.
Sighing, I tiredly make my way up the steps, my movements heavy and
lethargic. I’m covered in dirt and blood, and probably a few other things I don’t
care to know.
When I trudge into Addie's bedroom, I find steam spilling from the depths of
her bathroom. I roll my head back, immediately overcome with images of her standing beneath the shower head, water sluicing down her naked curves. My cock hardens instantly, the tension in my muscles bracketing my muscles into stone.
Pushing the door open gently, I’m surprised to see her standing in front of the
vanity mirror, eyes tracing her bare skin. There’s a frown pulling down her lips,
and she stares at her reflection with a mixture of abhorrence and curiosity.
She tenses, hearing my intrusion, yet she doesn’t take her eyes off of herself.
She’s completely naked, and the sight nearly sends me to my knees.
Both in worship and sorrow.