Page 28 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

If I’d been allowed to further my education, I always wanted to work with the dead.

Mortician, embalmer, autopsy technician, or some sort of cemetery worker; it didn’t really matter as long as I was alone, and it was peaceful and quiet.

I wanted so fiercely to know what awaited us after we passed, I believed working with the recently deceased would give me some insight.

The macabre fascination spreading into every area of my life.

My obsession with skulls, true crime, the paranormal, and the occult is only the tip of the iceberg.

It’s part of the reason I chose to live in the Pederson murder house, and so close to the Henderson sawmill.

The dead can’t haunt me near as badly as my own memories do.

Unfortunately, the spirits have been quiet, and my trauma is louder than ever.

Until now.

My ears begin to ring, and my vision blurs as the worst headache I’ve ever had sinks in. It feels as though my skull is splitting in two as the atmosphere around me drops in temperature.

The unknown man’s voice forces its way through the pounding of blood in my ears, “Want to play a game of operation, darlin’?” I nod, trying to push through the distracting pain.

“Cut her again, deeper this time,” he says.

I obey, retracing the ‘Y’ cut. The thin welling of blood along the cuts transforms into a thick, pouring stream of crimson.

Her screams of pain morph into diminishing wails of agony as she slowly slips into unconsciousness.

My captor watches me with such intensity, “Go on,” he says, encouraging me to do what’s frowned upon by society.

Dropping the knife, I sink my fingers into the blood. The warmth engulfs my hands, travelling up my arms, and settling in my chest. The ice I feel at my back sends a shiver down my spine as my captor loses himself in the vision of me succumbing to my darkness.

He pulls his dick from his trousers, coating it in the victim’s blood, and slamming it into her. His ruthless thrusts and moans of pleasure spur me on as I push my fingers into the cut and pull the skin apart. I want to see what her insides look like.

Pain shoots through my shoulder again, just like this morning, as the same voice rings inside my head.

“What are you doing? STOP!” the female voice shrieks.

“I can’t,” I whisper aloud. My mind is crumbling, bit by bit falling away to a place I can never reach. I must be going insane. Skin rips away from the membrane, and blood wells anew with each pump of her dying heart.

“Don’t! You’re hurting her! You’re killing her!” the voice rasps.

“I know,” I think to myself. This is fucking lunacy. Someone lock me in a padded room pronto.

“Stop!” My ears ring at the shrill intensity of her voice.

“I can’t!”

“Stab him.” I swear I feel a jolt in my arm. This isn’t real. Ghosts aren’t real.

“But—”

“Kill him. You’ve got the knife.” My eyes quickly dart to the knife at my side, and then slide up to the man lost in the throes of passion in front of me. Our eyes lock then he picks up his pace, the woman’s broken leg swinging unnaturally with each slap of his hips against her.

“I can’t. What if he doesn’t have the key? ”

“Take the risk,” she growls at me. The cold at my back is now all encompassing, and I’m suppressing the shiver that wants to overtake my body

“No.”

“At least then he will be dead, and this will be over.”

“Then I’ll die…” I try to rationalize.

“You’re not worth saving after what you’ve just done.”

“Stop! Don’t say that,” I retort. Tears well, threatening to spill over as the high I was feeling retreats.

“You stop. Look at yourself.”

“I can’t."

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” I scream back at the voice echoing in my head.

“Yes, you do. Say it.”

“No. No. No, I don’t know. I can’t stop!

” The tears spill over, tracking down my cheeks.

My captor raises a blood covered hand to my face, thumbing away my tears.

His skin sticks and drags against mine, smearing crimson over my skin and snuffing out the smattering of freckles that Nox loves so much.

His sickening smirk opens as he drags his tongue up the length of his thumb, cleaning up the salty tears.

With our gazes locked he finds his release.

I look to the sky, finding the aged planks of the floor above, trying to quell the tsunami of emotions barreling right for me. It threatens to break me, smash me to pieces, and evolve me into something so unrecognizable I’ll never be the same again.

The woman’s venomous voice pulls me back inside my head, “You know why you won’t stop, you’re just too much of a coward to say it.” she spits .

As the last piece of my former self disintegrates, I utter my defeat . “I can’t stop because I like it.”

“You disgust me,” she says with fading finality. The cold at my back disperses, and the world comes fully back into focus.

I’m left gaping at the woman below me, barely alive. The unknown man looks at me, sweat coating his brow, “What now?” he pants.

I can’t believe what I’ve done. I pick up the knife and drag it across the victim’s neck, severing her carotid artery.

Her eyes snap open as her mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish out of water.

What blood was left in her body spills out, soaking the dirt.

It pools around me, the warmth making me shiver.

“What the fuck did you do that for!” he bellows. Standing, he rights his pants, and slaps me so hard I can’t see straight. My face connects with the warm puddle of blood on the ground, splashing the muddy, crimson sludge onto my skin.

The man grabs me, flipping me onto my back, and straddles my hips. His hands wrap around my throat, pushing the collar up painfully into my jaw. Bony, sticky fingers dig deep into my flesh, extinguishing my air flow. The pressure increases until it feels like my head is going to pop.

I claw at his hands, trying to get enough of a grip on him to earn myself a sliver of breathing room.

Scratching and crying below him, he smiles.

It’s crazed and terrifying. He then lets up on the pressure, and I gulp in lungfuls of air.

“I brought her here for you. For us. To bring us closer together,” he grinds out.

Hands still around my neck, he pulls me up, then smashes me back down into the unforgiving floor.

Dazed, ears ringing, his hands constrict my neck again.

My head pounds, this is it. I’m going to die. I’ve pissed him off so royally that he won’t stop this time.

His grip loosens once again, like a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

He likes to torture and feel powerful, he gets off on it.

I took away his power by mercy killing that woman.

Now I’ll pay for it. “I thought you wanted to kill again! You said so! You said it!” he screams in my face, spit flying from his lips.

He releases me from his grasp, the seconds ticking by as I try to regain my equilibrium and find my voice.

“You.”

“What?” he sneers.

“I meant you.” I rasp.

He stares at me, waiting, ire swirling in his cerulean irises.

“I wanted to kill you.” I smirk, as shock and rage like I’ve never seen before comes charging right for me. I’m hauled up by my collar and thrown into the cement wall behind me. Collapsing into a heap on the dingy mattress as darkness engulfs me.