Page 61 of Eternal

I walk around him again, slowly. My fingers are on the knife again, circling the edge like it’s a friend. I could slit his throat now, I could. But no. I’m gonna take my time.

“Maybe I’ll cut your tongue out first,” I whisper. My voice is softer than I expected. I stare at him as I imagine the blood pooling in his mouth. The soft squelching sound it would make. “Or maybe I’ll start with your eyes. Or your dick. What would hurt more? What do you think?”

His eyes widen with fear as his body jerks against the ropes.

Tears streak down his face, the smell of piss filling the air.

“ You… you killed them all… all of them…” he croaks, his voice choking on the words.

“You killed them!!! Some were innocents! You killed women, you fucking psycho!” His chest heaves, and I watch, amused, as he shudders.

“Killed them, killed them,” I repeat, the words feeling good in my mouth. “I did. I killed them all.” I say it again, louder, “I killed them because I could.”

His voice is barely a whisper now. “You killed them. They had families… wives…husbands… children… mothers!!!” He shakes his head, still trapped in that cycle of disbelief. “You killed them all for what? You’re not even human, you sick bitch.”

“I had a mother too,” I whisper, my voice low, almost tender.

I had a mother too. I did. “She was mine, and you took her from me. You think I care about other families? Do you think I care about you ?” I let the last word hang in the air, sharp and cruel.

“She knew how fucking filthy you were. She knew Antony. She probably knew you were part of the fucking puzzle that tore us apart. And now you’re saying that I’m the monster? ”

His face goes pale, his breath quickening, like the truth cut through him. He looks like he’s seeing the world for the first time.

“You killed her too, didn’t you? Your ex-wife… Alina ? She knew too much about your preferences. You coward.”

“ Who are you?”

I take out a bullet, and I smile while playing with it.

“Voron? It’s you?” I hear the shaking in his voice, and it almost makes me laugh. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t understand. “You’re the one who killed Donovan? And all these people too? Fuck!! Fuck!! ”

He starts screaming and shaking, completely lunatic.

I slap him hard across the face, watching his head snap to the side, his skin reddening under my hand. He’s baring his teeth now, his breathing is uneven, scared, but I don’t care.

“Stop fucking screaming,” He’s still trembling, trying to fight against the ropes, but it’s useless. He’s too broken, too far gone.

“You’re a monster…”

“A monster?” I repeat, getting closer, my eyes boring into his. “No, Antony. I’m just an angry woman. So fucking angry that I want to turn this fountain into something new.”

I crouch beside him, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at the dark, rippling pool around us.

“Can you see it? Your blood mixing in, staining the water? It’s not a fountain anymore, Antony.

It’s you .” My nails dig into his skin as I hiss, “So stop crying. Stop begging. It won’t do you any good.

Come on, it’s Halloween. You should be savoring your last one. ”

His body convulses, his eyes wide with terror, his voice pleading. “Please… don’t… don’t make me say their names…” His voice breaks, like he’s finally grasping the weight of his sins.

But I’m past all of it. “Tell me who helped you,” I whisper, leaning in close to his ear. “Who helped you hide all of them? Who helped you get away with it for so long, Antony? Who covered this up?”

“I can’t— ” He gasps, choking on his words. “I… they’ll find me. They’ll kill me.”

I grab him by the collar and lift him up, making him look me in the eyes. “I will kill you too. So tell me, or I swear to God, you’ll wish you never fucking existed.”

I pull the knife out slowly, letting the cold steel press against his skin. His breath catches, his body stiffens. I lean closer, “Tell me who they are, Antony. Or I’ll make you suffer so much worse.”

He opens his mouth to scream, but I press the blade harder against his throat, silencing him. “Tell me who helped you,” I say again, and this time, my voice is no longer a question.

This fountain is truly gorgeous and with the red all over it’s even more beautiful.

“You don’t know anything about who’s on top, you can’t stop them. No one can,” he says, voice coated with fear. “And you surely won’t either.”

His head lunges forward and hits me strongly, my lip splitting open. Pain blooms, but I laugh. This last stupid try of survival, an act so stupid, like it will scare me enough to make me stop. But it’s too late.

“You’re right,” I rasp, wiping the blood with the back of my hand. My grin widens. “I am a monster.”

My knife slices into his chest from the top to the end of it.

His eyes go wide, and I twist the blade.

“I am fucking mad,” I reply, leaning in close, watching his soul fade away.

“Filth runs through all of you. Men, women… doesn’t matter.

I hate you . I hate you all .” I laugh, licking the blood off my lip.

“Welcome to my hell and… happy Halloween Antony.”

I turn around, my hands up to the sky, this is what I was destined to be. Rage. Anger. Death .

That’s what I had to do. That’s all I know, all I’ve learned. “Now, I’m going to need more before stopping the pain you’re feeling right now. It hurts right? That long wound on your chest. It’s bleeding so badly that the fountain is not even water anymore.”

He gasps, choking on his own blood. “What… what do you want?”

I tilt my head, considering. “I’ve thought about that a lot, you know.” My voice is almost conversational. “At first, Donovan was a fun kill. Something to make the voices shut up, the ones that beg me to end you all. But then I dug deeper.”

I step closer, watching the fear bloom in his dying eyes. “And what a surprise it was to find out Donovan’s habits were so similar to yours. Almost funny, really.”

He whimpers, but I keep going. “I had a name. A girl. Years ago, she disappeared without a trace. She started working for Donovan’s company, and then… poof . Gone.”

His breath hitches. He knows what’s coming.

I crouch beside him, lowering my voice. “And what a coincidence it was to find that the same day she was reported missing, a shipment left for a restaurant. A shipment with your name attached to it.” Tears slip from the corners of his eyes.

He knows I’m not wrong. I tilt my head, mockingly soft.

“It wasn’t wine in that shipment, was it? ”

His lips tremble. “Listen to me…” His voice is weak, fading. He’s not going to die before giving me more, is he?

I slap him, and his head jerks. “Stay awake,” I whisper. “I’m not done.” I let the words hang in the air before I continue. “I followed the shipment and thought maybe it’s a coincidence. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name in my mother’s journal.”

His body tenses.

“She talked to your ex-wife,” I say. “Apparently, she found pictures in your office. Pictures of young girls.” I pause, letting the weight of it settle over him. “Wooden tables. Almost naked. Crying. Dead .”

His whole body shudders, and I lean in closer, my breath against his cheek. “So tell me what the fuck is going on?”

His lips part, and for a second, I think he’s gone. Then, barely a whisper, “They’re cleansed before they reach the higher levels…”

His eyes flutter shut.

Cleansed?

“They’re cleansed and purified before being used.”

Before being used.

Used.

Used.

Used.

Cleansed. Purified. Before being used.

The words are turning around in my mind, it feels like eternity when it was only a few seconds, they’re sinking deep in my skull.

I grip his jaw, forcing his glassy eyes open. “Who’s cleansing them?”

Antony barely breathes. His pulse flutters weakly under my fingers, slipping away, his lips part, but nothing comes at first, only a rasp of air, a last, pathetic attempt to cling to life.

Then… “The church…”

Cold dread spills through my veins.

“What church?” My voice tightened around him. “Give me a name.”

What the fuck does that mean?

I step back, hands curling into fists, my breath is sharp and uneven. This isn’t trafficking. It’s not just rich men using their power to make people disappear. This is organized, structured, it’s a system.

His lips part, but nothing comes out. No sound. No confession. No answer. No .

No, no, no.

Not right now.

I shake him, my fingers slipping in his blood. His head lolls, heavy, empty. His chest barely moves.

“Come back.” My voice cracks with desperation. “Come back to life, you fucking cunt, I’m not done!”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t reply. He’s pale and the water is all bloodied. I drive my knife into him. Deep. “Speak.” I rip it out. Stab again. “Fucking speak!”

I don’t stop.

I can’t stop.

The blade sinks into flesh, over and over, warm and wet. The fountain is red now, my hands are red, my vision is red, red, red.

I stab and stab until my arms shake from anger, until my breath hurts in my chest, until there’s almost nothing left to stab anymore.

I want to scream, I want to rip him violently from death’s grip and shake what’s left of him until he coughs up every last answer he owes me, until his soul crawls back into his destroyed body and tells me everything.

But he’s dead.

My chest heaves, and my hands shake.

He’s gone. He’s been gone, but I kept going.

I tip my head back, exhaling the frustration. And I see the sky. The same sky that once was so vast over a little girl pointing at constellations, believing in stories her mother told her. The same sky that once watched me laugh, watched me dream, watched me happy.

I bet the stars never thought they’d witness me like this.

I bet they never thought I’d become the monster staring back at them.