Page 26

Wrath

Exiting the death rooms, I lock the door behind us, then Aurelia and I walk side by side toward the carnival, our footsteps echoing in the hush between us.

She’s quiet, eyes fixed ahead, lost somewhere in her own world. Then I start thinking…

Will I take it all the way tonight?

Will I ruin her in ways she hasn’t even imagined?

Or will I just walk her home, not stay and leave her to drown in the silence?

To be honest, I don’t even know what the fuck to do… yet.

Striding through the carnival, Aurelia stops, and I seem to halt too. My brows pinch in confusion as I look down at her and she closes the distance between us but has no emotion in her eyes.

She tilts her head back, gaze on my lips, and I leans in slowly until mine meet hers. As soon as our tongues collide and I let my guard down for a single fucking second, something clamps around my throat, the sound of the lock clicking into place, and echoing in my ears.

I immediately recoil, tearing my mouth away from hers and my hand shoots up to my neck.

It’s a collar. A fucking shock collar. I growl lowly as I take a step forward, eyes locked on her as she moves backward, slow and deliberate, like she’s waiting for me to pounce on her.

She backs up toward an old amusement booth, never breaking eye contact, then climbs onto the ledge, legs dangling, and spreads them without a word.

A silent challenge. A fucking trick. One I walked straight the fuck into it. Note to self: Don’t ever underestimate my little corpse.

“Now fuck me,” she breathes, the shock collar button clutched tightly between her fingers, ready to zap me at any second.

“I thought I fucking won,” I snap, brow twitching as I stare her down.

That smile spreads across her face, wide, smug, and shining under the moonlight.

“I always win in the end,” she says, calm as ever, gold eyes glinting with something dark. “You always take what you want, Wrath. Now it’s my turn. If you go too far, I’ll just give you a little shock to your system.”

My jaw clenches so hard it aches, and my fingers twitch at my sides. Disdain consumes me, rage biting at the edges. I’ve always been the one who does what the fuck he wants. Always. And now she’s flipping the whole game on its head, locking me down, twisting the rules and pushing me to the fucking edge just to see how violent I’ll get.

“You really think this flimsy shock collar is going to stop me taking your precious life while I screw your dying cunt raw, little corpse?” I snarl, taking steps forward, and her face falls just a fraction.

I continue until I’m between her legs, the heat of her pussy pressed against my dick, but she still has her chin raised like she stands a fucking chance.

“You’re wrong.” I growl lowly. “Nothing…” I lean down, biting against her lips. “Nothing would fucking stop me. Nothing ever has.”

I lift my hand, taking her chin aggressively and her breath stutters.

“I like fucking the dead, Aurelia. I get a sick kick out of watching the light fade… and feeling the last breath leave their bodies while they’re still warm… It’s what I am... And in this fucked-up mind of mine… I’ve already picked out your pretty little coffin.”

Her eyes stay fixed on mine, her breathing now shallow and uneven as I continue to warn her.

“You're on a suicide mission asking me to fuck you.... Is that what you want, hm?” I hiss, my thumb dragging over her plump bottom lip, smearing the black paint like a cruel mark. “To die beneath me—shaking… torn wide open… choking on your own fucking screams while I decide if you get to keep breathing?”

My voice is a jagged whisper, each word wrapped in unrestrained madness, like I’m daring her to say yes. “You don’t know what you’re trying to wake up... You have no fucking idea what you’re playing with...” I breathe, taking a pause to stare deep into her eyes.

“I’ve buried urges deeper than any grave I’ve ever dug—just for you, just to stop myself from doing something insane, and lose you forever.. I’ve held back for you, and still, you sit there, sweet mouth full of confidence, begging for it like it’s nothing…. Like I won’t fucking do it?”

My chest heaves, throat raw, as it hits me—I’ve said more to her in mere seconds than I’ve said to anyone my entire fucking life. It’s all spilling out of me now.

“As you said, you’ve held back for me. What’s once more?” she whispers, still ready to chance it all.

“I’m no stranger to death, Wrath. I died once and if you haven’t noticed already, I’m not afraid of it,” she continues, voice quiet. “Here I am—a resurrected little corpse, just for you to ruin all over again. Your way. The right way.”

Her words knock something loose in my head and my brows draw together, ready to ask what the fuck she means, but she doesn’t give me the chance.

One arm slips around the back of my neck, while the other drops between us. Her hand cups my balls and she squeezes.

Slow, deliberate and tempting.

My body jolts. Dick stiffing in my jeans. Breath pulled from my lungs. My thoughts blank. And just like that, the world stops spinning.

“This is me, begging you,” she breathes against my lips. “You got what you wanted. I’m dying to have you inside me. And if I die while you’re inside me, so be it.”

My eyes squeeze shut, forehead grinding against hers as the overwhelming urge to snap her in two rushes through me.

“Kiss me like you’re dying for it. Fuck me like you’re sending me to my grave. Bury me deeply with each thrust. Take me somewhere far away from the living. I don’t care, Wrath.”

Her words ruin me, and I have to forcefully rip myself away from her, staggering back. My breathing’s now shallow and frantic—I can’t get enough fucking oxygen into my lungs. Standing there, my hands curl into fists, then open again. I’m losing it.

I stare at her, eyes glowing red in the dark, heat and that sick need thrashing through every inch of me.

She wants to keep flirting with death? Fine. Let’s see how long she keeps whispering dirty things when it starts flirting back, and I’m the one wearing its face, already planning how cold she’ll be when she finally stops breathing.

“The… Cirque,” I growl the words.

She slips off the amusement ledge, brows pulling in, confused, but I see the glint of fear and surprise in her now.

She knows it’s coming.

“What?” she whispers, voice now small.

I take one step forward and she flinches back. And so she should. Because I’m about to become everything I promised I wouldn’t.

“Fucking run, my little corpse… but don’t dare lose your breath.

I want it hot and trembling, when I fuck you to death.”

She stands there, frozen, but as soon as I take one heavy step forward, my boot slamming against the cracked ground, eyes full of something far from human—she runs.

She sprints like her life depends on it and I watch her for a beat, jaw tight, trying to steady my breath. Then I snarl low in my throat and push forward, walking fast, but not chasing. I’m fucking hunting down what’s mine.

When I see the dark outline of the Cirque come into view, I halt, spotting her small figure slipping inside, swallowed by the shadows.

I rush forward without hesitation, boots crunching over the dirt, eyes locked on the spot where she disappeared and once I’m close, I grab the fabric, yanking it aside before dipping into the darkness.

My red, glowing eyes cut through the dark as I move slow now. Every breath I take inside here tastes like dust and decay. Every sound is sharpened: the creak of rotting boards beneath my boots, the soft flap of striped canvas swaying in a wind I can’t feel.

“Little corpse,” I call out, voice low and taunting. “Come out, come out.”

No answer, of course not. Just the faint sound of something scuttling, too fast and too light to be her. Or maybe it is. She’s always liked to play with me.

As I continue ahead, I yank curtain after curtain aside, each one snapping back behind me like a closing jaw. My hands twitch with anticipation. She's close. I canfeelher. The air is thick with the scent of her fucking wet, scared pussy.

I push through the last barrier and step into the main tent.

Massive. Empty. Dead.

The space groans with weight, like it’s remembering things too horrific to say out loud. Torn banners hang like flayed skin and ariel silks move above, swaying where nothing should move.

The center ring yawns open as I step in the middle, wide and blackened.

“Oddity breathes for me, Aurelia. It’ll spit you the fuck out eventually. It wants to watch while I dismantle you.”

Then there’s a faint giggle in the distance, echoing from somewhere it shouldn’t.

My eyes snap toward the

bleachers, and when I turn my body, I catch a glimpse of her shadow darting across them, quick, like lightning. Her boots hit the wood and metal hard, each step reverberating in the huge space.

I freeze for half a second, watching her make for the exit, but as soon as she’s close enough, I bolt after her.

She screams, sharp and panicked, cutting through the air as I reach for her, but she’s too quick. She slips out of reach, and I stumble forward, nearly falling.

By the time I gather myself and lift my head, she’s already halfway through the corridor, slipping behind the curtains again.

“Little fucking rascal,” I mutter under my breath.

My teeth clench, frustration rising like bile before I take off, chasing her into the dark, not willing to let her disappear again.

I yank back the curtain and find myself in one of the prop rooms.

Reaching up, I grab the cord hanging from the ceiling and pull. The single bulb flickers once before buzzing to life.. It swings slightly from the force, sending shadows dancing across the red and white fabric swathed along the walls.

My red spirals sweep across the room, searching for her, but all I see is circus equipment.

Painted masks, throwing axes and juggling pins line against the walls on a table, cracked and peeling. A large, warped mirror leans on a rusted stand against the back wall, the glass bending my reflection in all the wrong ways.

In the corner, a black cannon, painted with white, red and green swirls rests on splintered wooden wheels, chains spilling from the barrel like guts.

But she’s not here.

As I turn to leave, a faint noise behind me stops me cold. Then I spin on my heel, eyes wild, scanning the room again.

Something moved, I know it did.

I rush forward, heartbeat climbing into my throat, every muscle coiled as I search the room frantically, like a beast gone mad.

I grab the edge of the warped mirror and start to pull it aside—

Zap.

White hot currents tear through me, engulfing my body in a violent surge. My jaw locks tight, teeth grinding as the pain snaps down my spine and lights up my skull.

Then, just as suddenly as it came, it stops.

I stagger back, chest heaving, ears ringing and I watch as Aurelia steps out from behind the mirror, slow and careful, a sheepish little smile tugging at her lips.

“Sorry…” she mumbles, voice small, hands fiddling nervously. “You… you just scared me.”

I growl low in my throat, then curl my finger at her—beckoning her forward.

She hesitates, eyes glancing to the door, then back to me. Step by slow step, she comes closer, cautious, like she’s approaching a cage with something dangerous inside.

I don’t move. Not until she’s within reach, then I pounce.

My fingers fist in her hair, yanking her forward with a brutal pull. She crashes into me, breath knocked out of her, and my other hand is already at her throat, gripping tight, tilting her head back so she has no choice but to look up at me.

“You better hold onto that little button like your fucking life depends on it, Allure,” I hiss, voice seething. “Don’t you dare let me kill you.”

She stares at me, gold eyes wide, but steady.

“Okay,” she whispers in agreement.

And the second the word leaves her mouth, my lips slam into hers, hard and consuming, like I’m already trying to steal the breath she’s barely holding onto.

I walk her backward, lips still locked, until her ass hits the edge of a table with a soft thud.

Shrugging off my leather jacket, I let it fall to the floor. Her fingers find my belt, tugging it loose with urgency before pulling my zipper down. I lean over her, reaching out with one arm and sweeping everything off the table in a violent motion.

Props crash to the floor, wood, metal, glass, all of it hitting the ground in a loud, chaotic mess that echoes through the space.

Gripping her ass, I lift her without effort and drop her down hard on the cleared surface. Her breath catches, as I pull her closer, forcing her legs open wider around me. My hand finds her neck, fingers curling around it with a possessive grip, and I force her to lie back against the table.

Her eyes stay locked on mine, and it’s in the way her breath is stuttering, shaky and uneven now, I can see it. The fear and the arousal merging into something dangerous.

But I’m just as tangled in this shit as she. She’s not the only one trembling. The same dread thrums through my veins, because this isn’t a fucking game. Not anymore. We’re in this together now and there’s no coming back from what happens next.

My fingers find the gaps in the crotch of her fishnets, burying deep before I rip them apart with a harsh tug. As soon as I see her black panties, soaked with moisture, I wrap my fingers around them and tear them straight off with a vicious snap.

I reach out, my hand wrapping around her throat again, and she lifts her chin, welcoming it. My other hand disappears in my boxers, shaky fingers wrapping around my hard cock, hot, heavy and leaking.

Yanking myself free, I position myself against her wet pussyhole and I don’t wait. I press forward right away, each of my piercings entering one by one.

A loud gasp escapes her, eyes rolling back as her spine bends inward while I stretch her. My fingers flex around her throat as I take in the sensation of her warmth and wetness. How fucking good and right she feels around me. Like I always knew she’d be.

My eyes grow heavy, darkening and my teeth clench tight while I continue to force myself inside, but as soon as I’m balls deep, they tighten, and I feel a cold blanket settle over me, although my veins are red hot.

When my gaze flicks downward, I soak in the sight of my cock buried fully inside her, her drenched pussy lips stretched around my thick girth, her clit swollen and suckable.

Leaning over, I plant my elbows beside her head, pressing my forehead against hers and her hands find my shoulders, anchoring herself to me.

I draw my cock back, each spike scratching down her silky walls, until I’m at the pierced tip, then I slide back inside with a harsh thrust, her pussy hitting the base.

She lets out a moan, but I let out a growl.

Just the feel of her and the sounds she makes, rocks me to my fucking core. Her nails claw into my back, tearing at my skin with every movement, each thrust deeper and harder than the last, pushing both of us to the edge of madness.

“God, you feel so good,” she groans against my mouth, teasing me with her words.

I don’t pound into her, not yet, I just kiss her breathless lips as she moans for me, staring into each other’s eyes, like this moment matters.

My hand slips down to her corset and I pull on the front ribbon, unravelling it until it’s halfway open and her tits are free. I grab one harshly before tearing my lips away from hers, lowering my mouth on her stiff nipple.

Sucking hard as I fuck her pussy, her moans and whimpers grow louder until I start biting viciously, drawing blood, and they quickly turn into screams of pain and pleasure.

My mind darkens, that cold, heartless part of me settling back into place. And every so often, I have to remind myself—don’t kill her. Just take it slow. Stretch it out. See if I can make it through without losing control.

I rise to my full height, hand closing around her throat again, pressing her down into the table like a pinned offering. She doesn’t fight it. She just stares up at me with that mix of fear and surrender that sets something violent loose inside me.

With my free hand, I pull out my black ace card.

When I press it into the fatty flesh of her right tit, I drag through her pale skin and she exhales through clenched teeth, a sound half pain, half pleasure, but she doesn't stop me. Not while I continue to fuck her soaked cunt hard at the same time.

My teeth bare in a snarl as I engrave, carving one letter at a time, each one backward, so she’ll see it every time she looks at her pretty reflection daily.

It’s a mark of not only her strength and growth tonight, but also of who the fuck she belongs to. Who she’ll always belong to.

Feel her Wrath

Blood spills down her tits in lazy streams, soaking into her corset like the fabric’s been waiting for it.

I drop the card, letting it clatter to the floor, then reach down, pressing my thumb deep into the raw, bleeding letters.

Not gentle. Not kind. Just pressure and pain.

She jerks beneath me, a broken sound leaving her throat, but I don’t relent.

“Feel that, my little corpse?” I whisper, voice rasped and shaking with something close to exhilaration. “That’s you becoming mine forever.”

She hisses from the pain, but I wrap my other arm beneath her thigh, yanking her further down the table, then sling it over my shoulder, elevating her leg as I hover over her with one hand planted beside her.

My bloody hand returns to her throat, painting her with gore as I squeeze tight, then I start smashing the tip of my pierced cock against her cervix at full force. The table rocks violently on fragile legs, barely holding the weight of what I’m doing to her. As her tits bounce wildly and her pussy clenches around me, I can’t help but stare at her, taking in every little detail.

Her screams scrape at my sanity as I ram my cock into the furthest depths of her at a steep angle, and my eyes roll back in my head, trying to hold back.

When she comes the first time, I slow my pace, easing in and out as she soaks me, her perfect cunt spasming in time with our irregular breaths.

My heavy gaze sweeps down her twitching body beneath me. How it’s reacting to the onslaught, how she’s barely holding it together.

Her pulse thumps against my fingertips—that pulse of life I could easily snatch away from her. I rip my hand away and pull my cock out of her throbbing pussy with a frustrated growl, trying not to think about it.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I force her to sit up and drag her off the table, until her weak legs almost give way. But I catch her, wrapping my arm around her waist from behind and lift her before walking forward.

I lower her onto the cannon, positioning her frontally and her legs uselessly dangle over each side. As she tries to get herself together and wake up from her intense high, I push her tutu up, revealing her peachy ass to me. grabbing the flimsy fishnets, I split them further apart until they’re stretched over her cheeks.

With my legs on each side of the cannon, I press the tip against her dripping hole, then grab her waist in both hands, elevating her ass.

In one brutal trust, I plunge my full length all the way inside her with no mercy, and she screams, her juicy cunt biting down on me from the invasion.

The sound echoes through the room, and me, but I don’t stop. I use my full dominance, keeping her restrained against the mental as I use her pussy sadistically. I bang my dick inside her over and over, fast and brutal, smashing her cunt in cruelly.

And in the process, I feel my sanity drifting with each passing second and every thrust I deliver. My fingers dig into her flesh more harshly, leaving bruises, and my teeth grinding so hard they could crack.

Without thinking straight, my hand shoots out, fingers curling around one of the thick iron chains dangling from the cannon’s rusted mouth.

She barely has time to flinch or understand what I’m doing before I’m looping it around her neck tight. Once, twice, three times.

Then I pull, hard.

Her body jolts, every muscle snapping tight. Her back bows, throat stretching against the links, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. I suck two of my fingers, swirling them over my pierced tongue before shoving them deep in her asshole, all the way to the knuckle.

She doesn’t have time to react, I start fucking her aggressively again, ruining both holes and everything seems to distort as she lets out strangled screams between choked breaths.

My mind’s slipping, turning sick, twisting to thoughts of her dead. How easy it would be to silence the cries. How fucking beautiful she’d look lifeless. The image claws at me, begging to be real. But I try to shove it down, and bury it deep in the darkest, rotting corner of my mind.

Yet, it keeps resurfacing like an old friend, time and time again.

“Come for me, my little corpse.” I bite out, head tilted back, eyes rolling back until only the whites remain. “Come for the monster who owns your soul, the air you breathe and the fucking end of your existence.”

My dark red gaze locks back onto my dripping dick and fingers plunging inside her, my hand tightening around the chain, cutting off her airway fully.

“Drench me while I drag you across the line between pleasure and death. Just die for me a little as I try to fuck the life out of your cunt.”

When I feel her come hard again, the mess of her wrecked pussy leaking down the cannon in wet streaks, I don’t even stop like I should’ve.

I’m blacking out again, and my body’s moving on its own, running on pure instinct and autopilot.

It’s doing things I don’t want it to. Or maybe I do. I fucking can’t tell anymore.

All I know is, if she doesn’t stop me… I can’t stop myself.

Her cunt pulses around me, the sound of her come slurping up and down my shaft resonating in my ears, turning me the fuck on even more, making it worse, and I just continue to smash into her, carelessly while I choke her to death.

“Press… the button…” I bite out, knowing I can’t prevent this, and I’m past the point of no return.

My eyes flick up to where she’s shaking, skin paling fast, the life bleeding out of her with every second. My balls tighten, my release building, but I’m gonna fucking kill her before I even get there.

“Press. The. Fucking Button. And stop me, little corpse!” I snap loudly, each word tight.

Her thumb hovers, trembling just above it. Teasing and taunting like she’s testing me. Testing the limits of what the fuck I am, like some reckless, stupid fucking girl who doesn’t know she’s one second from dying by my hands.

“Aurelia!” I warn again, desperate.

Aurelia starts to fall limp, the button slipping from her lifeless hand, and the sound of it hitting the floor echoes through me like a warning shot.

Everything inside me stops.

Something shifts.

Then cracks into place.

I suddenly let go of the chain like it’s burning my skin, and her instant gasp rips through the air, her body shuddering back to life.

It’s a sound I never knew I needed to fucking hear before. A breath of life. And it hits me harder than anything else ever has.

Without warning, I cum—forcefully.

It blasts out of my cock, thick and hot, filling her to the deepest point, and the power of it rocks through my entire body like I’ve been hit by a fucking truck. My muscles seize, every nerve lit up and my vision goes white for a split second.

Almost collapsing as my knees buckle, barely keeping upright, I lie on her, my chest heaving against her slick back.

Her skin’s damp with cold sweat, trembling under me, both of us gasping. The air around us feels electric and charged with everything we just did, everything we almost didn’t come back from.

I press my forehead to the base of her neck, trying to breathe, trying to calm the turmoil still surging inside me.

Then, when I finally can, I bring my lips to her ear.

“Don’t ever… fucking… do… that… again,” I growl between breaths, my voice low, shredded with something between rage and desire.

She turns her head, her panting lips brushing against mine, and her glassy eyes lock onto me like she sees right through everything I am.

“I will…” she whispers, her voice soft but steady while her trembling hand finds my face, fingers tracing my painted jaw. “Because now I know… you’ll always let go of the chain. For me.”

Her words hit like a fucking blade between the ribs. I lower my gaze, jaw tight, but the truth is already carved into me. She’s right.

I’ve never stopped. Not once. Years of giving in to every violent urge, to every twisted need that’s ever driven me over the edge. I’ve taken breath from lungs like it was a gift I could fucking steal and keep forever.

But not hers. Something about my little corpse made me choose breath over silence. Flesh over decay. Warmth over cold. Life over death.

And that terrifies me. Yeah, me.

Because I’m a fucking monster who fucks what’s already dead. A soul eater. A thing that only knows how to take. But with her, this fragile, but defiant girl who keeps handing me the weapon and daring me to swing, I didn’t.

She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. She’sfucking mine in every sense of the word. Our souls are shackled together by unseen chains.

But what the fuck am I now, if I’m not what I’ve always been?