Page 29

Eve

“Shall we begin, then?” I say, looking over at Maya, Ace and Jack.

They all stand next to the desk, watching me as I slowly circle the table and move towards them. Opening the desk drawer, I remove my mask from its depths and affix it to my face, smiling at Maya before turning and walking back towards the table. The gold walls of the room encircle the pooling black fabric draped across the table in the center, like a golden iris around a pupil of death. It’s almost the same honeyed gold as Jason’s eyes.

I scoff to myself.

“What is going on?” A muffled voice calls out desperately from beneath the ebony sheet.

I position myself next to the table, facing the camera and the members of the suits, and nod my head solemnly. Ace tilts his chin up to me in acknowledgement before pulling out his phone and pushing a few buttons. In a moment, the recording lights turn green and the monitors hum as the room comes to life.

I lean onto the table, my fingers brushing the fabric covering Jason’s hand, and I feel him flinch.

“Eve, WHAT IS GOING ON?!” He yells, and I slap my hand over his mouth. His heavy breathing moistens the fabric, my palm becoming damp with the proof of his desperation, and I smile to myself.

“Now now, you know better than to use real names down here,” I say with a smirk. “Unless you want to lose your tongue, I suggest you stop it from wagging.”

With my hand on his face, I look up at the monitor and am greeted with a flood of messages from the chat window.

WHERE IS THE KING

LET’S GET IT ON

SOLO SHOW FOR THE KING’S LADY?

WHAT IS HAPPENING

THAT DRESS IS GOING TO LOOK BEAUTIFUL COVERED IN BLOOD

I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE WHO IS UNDER THERE

“Hello everyone,” I purr, shifting my weight as I grip the fabric in my palm and slowly walk around the table, twisting it into my grip. “I bet you’re anxious to know who our John Doe is today. Believe me when I tell you, it’s someone you’d never expect.”

Grasping the fabric, I pull it off and toss it to the side: looking down at the red suit, the blonde hair and the strong jawline framed by the crimson filigree of his mask, I almost feel sorry for him. I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do.

Almost.

NO FUCKING WAY

HOLY SHIT IS THAT THE KING

IT HAS TO BE A LOOK ALIKE

THERE’S NO WAY THIS IS REAL

WHAT A PLOT TWIST

WAIT I’M CONFUSED

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I sing out as I drag my finger along Jason’s chest, his jacket falling apart to his sides as I expose the black button up shirt beneath it. “This John Doe is guilty of serial murder and torture. He is guilty of plotting to abandon his friends and threatening the security of his peers. And that will just not do.”

I look down at Jason, his eyes wide as his mouth gapes at me. I know that look: the panic and disbelief, the look of utter betrayal. The old me would have felt moved by that look, by knowing that I had turned my back on someone who loved me. But Jason taught me better than that.

“You thought you were helping me accept myself,” I say to him softly, so only he and I can hear. “But you have no idea what you’ve unleashed in the process. All those times you thought you were the darker one, the more sadistic of us two, and yet you never really stopped to consider that I was born in depravity. That I was twisted from the start.”

I walk over to the tool rack, my fingers grazing over the assortment of blades that lie there.

“You told me you were born again in this room, that you found yourself here,” I say as I grasp a medium sized carving knife. “Well so was I. And whereas you found a desire for normalcy and the ordinary…well, let’s just say I found the opposite.”

My heels echo as I walk over to Jason and cut away his shirt, exposing his chest. My eyes meet his, and I gently stroke the side of his face. Tears stream down the corners of his eyes, wetting my fingers.

“I…I loved you…” he mutters. “I was ready to sacrifice everything for you.”

I smile at him, a genuine act of understanding.

“I know, baby, I know. And you still can.”

Straightening up, I set the knife on his chest and walk over to the rack once more, grasping one of the syringes filled with nerve blocker. I look over at the Suits as they stand out of sight of the camera, and I see Maya’s face relax, relief washing over her face as I nod knowingly. None of us want to see Jason suffer, especially Maya. Especially me.

I clear my throat and approach Jason, standing at his head.

“You wanted to leave the Suits, to have a normal life,” I say to him as I slowly drag the tip of the needle along his collarbone. “You told me that ‘normal’ was something we could never have, being what we are. The Suits–this life–is forever, and you made your choice by planning to leave.”

Jason’s eyes close slowly, a sign of defeat as he sighs deeply. I blink away the tears that begin to form, and shake my head to brush off any lingering doubt or regret.

“I’m sorry,” I continue. “But I will always be grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me, and for the life that your death will allow me to live.”

He finally looks up at me, the warm honey of his eyes darkening as his breathing intensifies. He grins at me and lifts his chin upwards, baring his throat.

“Anything for you, Princess,” he growls. “I love you.”

“I know.”

The syringe slides into his neck and I press the plunger, watching his eyes glaze over as I empty the contents into him.

Jason’s body stills as the nerve blocker renders him numb, unable to feel much pain. A last act of love before I move and grab the knife from his chest.

The blade sinks into his skin with little resistance, and in a matter of minutes his skin and muscle are flayed away, revealing his ribs and the thin layer of membrane beneath which his heart beats slowly. I have to work quickly. Blood pools over his chest and soaks into the red of his suit jacket, my once white dress is now covered in spatter…and as I break apart a rib, I look once more into the face of the man I loved: the man who is literally giving his life for mine.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

The knife makes quick work of the arteries and tendons. After a moment I set the knife down on the table beside him, reaching into the cavity with my hand and prying his heart from his chest. I stare at it. Watching blood ooze down my forearms and pool onto the floor below. Realizing that I’ve just killed the only man who ever knew me, the only that ever loved me. Realizing that there’s no going back. Realizing that I am now bound to the Suits forever, taking Jason’s place among them.

I’ve been baptized in blood, and there’s no going back.

My breathing is heavy as I turn to the camera, holding his heart up for the world to see.

“The King is dead. Long live the King.”