Page 69 of Fallen: Darkness Ascending, Vol.1

EDDIE

I slam her down onto her back like a fucking animal. She stares up at me as I straddle her hips, pinning her to the floor, helpless. Her eyes are wide with fear and determination, yet she can’t mask the tears brimming along her lashes, threatening to fall.

“You thought you could escape, little rabbit?” I snarl down at her, red-tinged spit spraying on her face.

My heart roars with excitement when she flinches at my words, her death drawing closer with every moment I am in control.

Normally, I favor the precision of my knife eviscerating my prey, except with her.

I want to savor each ticking second. I want to feel her unravel as life drains from her with my hands.

I seize her upper arms and lift her torso off the floor.

A wondrous squelching sound from the blood under us reaches my ears, a grotesque symphony of our time together.

Eye to eye, I sneer and press a mocking peck to her nose before thrusting her back down.

Her spine hits the tile with a delightful snap, sending waves of euphoria directly to my groin.

She makes a pitiful noise—somewhere between a scream and a gasp—strangled by the wind I ripped from her lungs.

I need her to feel every shard of pain I give her.

Every second under me, I need her to feel as if an eternity is passing by.

With the top of her arms pinned down, she helplessly tries to claw her way to freedom, but only bloody stubs are left from her previous escape attempt.

“Oh, how I love to see you struggle,” I laugh, swatting her arms away like pestering gnats.

This little bitch believed she could defeat me. She thought she could win. No one wins against me, not when I’ve tasted their fear.

I haul her body off the floor for a third time and slam her back down, harder this time— savoring the blunt, meaty thud as her body absorbs the impact.

My desired effect is immediate. Agony contorts her facial features, shaping into beautiful ruin.

Limp arms tenderly wrap around her torso, protecting her broken body.

A weeze escapes her lips, followed by a soft, gurgling sob.

That’s when I see it: a bright blossom of red coating her mouth, a stark contrast to her milky skin.

"There it is," I growl, almost reverently. "I was starting to wonder what it would take to break you."

Pleasure surges in my chest at the damage I’ve inflicted. Steady, roaring beats thrum inside me, fueling my brutality.

Pitch-black bruises begin to spread along her bare skin, leaving purple veins trailing down between her breasts. One side of her chest sinks unnaturally, a promise of snapped ribs. Fighting to expand, her chest convulses laboriously for air.

Her eyes stare into mine, glassy and motionless, swimming with pain too vast to scream out. Fresh tears spill silently. I’m transfixed by the way her bottom lip tremors between shallow gasps. I count every heightened beat in her throat, letting the rhythm of her suffering sing to me.

I shift my weight, placing both hands on her ribcage, and lean forward with slow, deliberate pressure.

Her eyes snap open wider, the whites shifting red as blood vessels hemorrhage under the force.

I can hear gurgled rasps through her parted lips.

She knows it’s time, but her body refuses to give in to my demands.

I shift again, this time repositioning my hands further up on her collarbones and placing my knee directly onto her sternum.

I take my time, ingraining the exact second her body fails her.

Applying force again, I listen for a sound I know is coming.

First, I hear a snap, then a buckle, completed with a wet pop as a broken rib breaks through her torso.

A spray of blood bursts from her lips, peppering my face in a fine, warm mist. Her body convulses violently beneath me, limbs flailing like a dying insect, before going limp.

As her final twitch fades, I hear a voice, soft and laced with venom, threaded in the dying rattle of her lungs.

“One day—something worse—will come for you-and it’ll wear my face.”

Her lips barely moved, but I heard her unmistakably in my skull, a promise burned into the silence.

I haven’t released pressure, not yet. The next sound is a final one: a sadistic crunch, the last collapse of her chest cavity beneath my weight.

I feel her lungs deflate, ruptured and lifeless, the flutter of her heartbeat stuttering to nothing.

I drink in the sight of her slackened body—stained, shattered, perfect in its stillness.

I lean my mouth to her ear, the lingering heat of her corpse caressing my cheek, and whisper, “Until we meet again, little rabbit.”