Page 11

Chapter eleven

Lyric

MY BODY PRESSED AGAINST THE cold, rough surface of the wall as I stood frozen in shock. My eyes were fixed on the door where my masked hero had just disappeared, leaving me alone with Trey's lifeless form. Only my racing heart and labored breaths broke the eerie silence in the room. Trembling, I shifted my gaze between the empty doorway and Trey's motionless body, struggling to understand what had just happened. Fear and confusion engulfed me.

He's dead.

The truth sank in, and I collapsed onto the floor, my trembling hands clutching at my sides as a wave of nausea washed over me. My face was still smeared with blood, the deep crimson staining my skin like a macabre mask. I frantically tried to wipe it away with desperate motions, but it seemed etched into my very being. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the dark truth remained: I had become a killer—just like him. The weight of that realization hung heavy on my chest, suffocating me with guilt and horror. It appeared as though the blood on my hands and the deeds I could never undo were tainting every breath I took.

My phone vibrated, snapping me out of my frantic thoughts. When I looked at the screen, I saw a notification from him. Even though I was hesitant to open it, I tapped the message.

Masked hero: If I were you, I'd leave.

My eyes grew wide.

Shit.

I sprang to my feet and dashed for the exit. No students were in sight, but two police officers chatted calmly in the hallway around the corner about a disturbance someone had called in.

Fuck me.

I took advantage of their distraction and escaped, swiftly walking down the hall silently until I was out of sight, then sprinting toward my room.

Once I was at my door, I completely forgot he had kidnapped me from my room, and I had no way back in. With irritation, I lifted my phone to send him some words of wisdom.

Lyric: Next time you kidnap a girl and provoke her into killing someone, could you at least have the decency to bring her damn room KEY!

I sighed as I knocked on the door, unsure whether I wanted Carmen to answer. I was completely covered in blood and had yet to process what had happened. If she opened the door, I'd be bombarded with questions I'd have trouble finding the answers to.

The green light switched on, and the door unlocking startled me out of my thoughts. I placed my hand on the handle and pushed it open, half expecting him to jump from behind it. But it was empty.

Thank God.

My phone buzzed, and I raised it to read the message. It was from him.

Masked Hero: You're welcome. ??

I glared icily at my screen.

Asshole.

Another ping.

Masked Hero: I will only ever kidnap you, mi Reina.

Exhaling, I grumbled, "How comforting." I stepped into my room, making sure the door closed without a sound—I didn't want to draw any attention to myself—and let my body rest against the door, sighing as I messaged him back.

It perplexed me why I was still responding to him, but my fingers had a mind of their own.

Lyric: You called those cops, didn't you? Were you trying to get me caught? So much for protecting me. ??

Nothing but silence.

I growled under my breath at my masked man of Satan. "Yeah, ignore me now. It was much better before you came around." I chucked my phone on my bed and then removed my blood-drenched clothes. How in the world would I get rid of all the evidence? I wasn't a murderer; I had no idea how someone like that thought and reacted.

I was thankful that Carmen and I had our bathrooms in the dorm. I snatched a grocery bag from the plastic cabinet purchased at the local hardware store, placed my foul clothes inside it, and got in the shower. Then, I switched on the tap to a scalding temperature. I needed to rid myself of my guilt.

Days passed, and the news about my attackers filled the screens of every TV channel and social media outreach in the state of Georgia. They named it the Savannah masked murders, and police officers were everywhere. The entry to Trey's dorm was cordoned off with yellow tape, making it so no one could enter. The students in that half of the hall were moved to another part of the dorm.

I hadn't received any word from my masked pal of Satan. When I stepped out of the shower, the bag I had my clothes in was missing, which meant he had snuck in and taken it. Was he one of those creepy pervert stalkers who watched you undress or take showers?

He was so creepy.

The heavy door to our room opened, and Carmen stepped in, setting her bags down. She looked toward me, sitting cross-legged on my bed, the remote control tightly gripped in my hand.

"You're still watching that?" She came over, plopping down next to me, stole the remote, and clicked the TV off.

My eyes shifted to her. "All these people are dead because of me." I sighed, sinking further down in the bed.

"Lyric, it's not like you murdered them. Your lunatic stalker did." She reassured me, but boy, was she wrong.

Why the hell was I so calm about all this chaos? I killed someone being persuaded by a man who didn't have the guts even to tell me his name or show me his face.

I sensed her gaze upon me while lost in thought and quickly glanced in her direction. "What?"

Her eyelids narrowed. "Is there something I'm missing?"

I frowned. "No, Carmen."

Her head tilted. "You're lying," she presumed.

This was precisely what I wanted to avoid. We were back on good terms as friends, so if I told her that I killed Trey with my stalker and how much pleasure it gave me, she would think I was ultimately nuts and call the police. And not to mention that I was even having sexual fantasies about the man who was turning me into a killer.

I jumped off my bed in a hurry, slipping on my sneakers. I threw my hoodie over my head and shoved my phone into my pocket. Carmen sat on the mattress, eyes wide with surprise.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"For a jog," I declared, exiting the room without further discussion.

The sun lazily sank below the tall trees, its blazing rays disappearing behind the horizon. A magnificent lavender sky was visible above, occasionally broken up by warmly glowing, wispy clouds. Families strolled along, chatting happily as they enjoyed the peaceful evening. The salty scent of the ocean mingled with the sweet fragrance of the potted flowers lining the sidewalk, a reminder that winter was approaching and these blooms would soon wilt away.

I sprinted through the park, earbuds blaring to Breaking Benjamin's "Polyamorous," one of my favorites.

When I reached the edge of the park closest to the beach, I kept going and felt my sneakers sink into the sand. This made it challenging to keep up the pace and gave me an extra workout.

Finally, exhausted, I collapsed onto the sandy shore and kicked off my shoes and socks. My toes sank into the comforting warmth of the sand, and I breathed a breath of relief. I pulled my earbuds out, the music playing softly in my hoodie pocket, as I lay back on the beach and closed my eyes. The moon was bright, illuminating the stretch of sand like a dream. Most had already gone home since darkness would soon devour the sky. A chilly wind blew across the shore, stirring up waves that lapped at the sand like playful kittens.

People were terrified of the Savannah mask killer, but why would I be scared? I was helping him.

The delicate chime of my phone ripped through my serenity.

Sitting upright, I grabbed it from my pocket, and the brilliant light of the display beamed directly onto my face. Now, my calmness was gone as his number appeared on the screen.

Why now? It's been almost a week.

I slid the screen open to see what he had to say.

Masked Hero: Should you really be taking a nap on the beach? It's almost dark.

My gaze shifted quickly from my phone's display to scan the area. A mix of fear and excitement raced through me; he was watching me. Instinctively, my fingers felt for the scar he made on my neck with his knife, and that same warm feeling coursed through me like his tongue still lingered on my skin.

My attention returned to my phone's screen, and my fingers tapped away at the keyboard.

Lyric: Stalk much, creep. Unless you're going to kill me, I think I'm safe. You know, since you're the only serial killer around.

A few minutes passed, and I eagerly stared at my screen, like watching one of my favorite shows. Then the bubbles appeared, and my heart skipped.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Masked Hero: Now, Lyric Melody, it's not very nice to call someone a stalker or serial killer, especially when they are protecting you.

My eyes narrowed as I gazed at the sandy beach; a sudden shift occurred, bringing me back to when a time in my life was unscathed. I found myself standing atop a soft, grassy meadow. The sun beat down on my bare arms as I skipped through a sea of white flowers with my rag doll's tiny hand grasped tightly in mine.

Like a soothing lullaby, the gentle lilt of my mother's voice cut through the crisp air. As I spun around to face her, our eyes met in an unspoken understanding. Her bright smile illuminated the already sunny day, making it feel even more alive. "Come in for lunch, Mel," she beckoned with a wave, directing me towards our quaint home perched on a hill just outside York, Nebraska. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the open windows, filling the area with a warm and comforting aroma. The soft blades of grass caressed my bare feet as I walked towards the welcoming house, only to be abruptly pulled back into a past I had no desire to revisit.

My mother's sandy blonde hair fluttered in the wind as she stood on the front porch, her once bright smile faltering. The amber depths of her eyes, typically sparkling like stars in the night sky, were now dull and weary. As I approached, I noticed the thinning patches in her hair and the fading color of her eyes. I was no longer seeing my six-year-old self when life was sunny, bright, and happy; it was now filled with the constant hum of machines and the sight of exhausted doctors and nurses rushing in and out at all hours of the day. And there I was, holding a bag for my mother to vomit into, helpless and heartbroken, only hearing the last words she said to me.

"Lyric Melody Simmons, I need you to make me a promise. No matter the cost, you must always fight." Her icy fingers brushed against my tear-stained cheek before finally falling away as the machine's beeping turned into a continuous flat line.

The memory dissipated, and I was back on the beach. I hastily brushed away the tears that had welled in my eyes with my hoodie sleeve and reached for my phone again.

Lyric: How the hell do you know my middle name?

The bubbles returned quickly this time.

Masked Hero: I told you, I know everything about you. Your mother, a songwriter, named the most important thing in her life after the one thing she gave up for her beautiful daughter. She wanted to give her daughter a chance at a better future. Instead, her daughter endured a brutal assault that led her to become a killer. What would your dear mother think of her sweet Melody now?

Way to rub it in, asshole.

Lyric: Do you really expect me just to be yours? How can I accept someone I've never seen or know their name? You're a fucking psychopath!

After I hit send, I quickly put my phone away, picked up my shoes, and jumped up from the sand. Then, I hurried back to campus.

My feet moved faster and faster until I started running. I regretted saying it the moment the words escaped my fingertips. He always said he didn't like being called "crazy" in all the videos. I had two options: wait for the impending punishment or flee. Either way, he would track me down, so what was the point of running?

My feet were now on the hard cement as night descended. The stars emerged from the sky, replacing the sun and casting a light that shone down on me as I ran to my dorm. There was no guarantee of safety there either, but I hoped he'd stay away if Carmen were present.

Rushing through the university gates, my phone beeped with an incoming message, bringing me to a sudden halt. I was now alone in a dimly lit area, with only the sporadic street lights illuminating the way back to my dorm.

Masked Hero: Why are you running, my sweet Melody?

Lyric: Leave me alone. Don't you think you have ruined my life enough? ??

I silenced my phone before slipping it into my pocket and sprinting towards my dormitory.

Please let Carmen be there.

A green light flickered as I swiped my keycard to open the door. I entered but was abruptly ceased as soon as I stepped inside. A hand wrapped around my throat, and his masked face loomed before me. The grip was tight enough to send shivers down my spine without cutting off my air supply completely.

"You've got guts, sweet Melody, but I haven't ruined you…yet," he whispered menacingly.

Anger flashed in my eyes. "Don't call me that..." I started, but the hand around my neck tightened, pushing me against the door and banging my head against the hardwood, cutting me off.

"You act like you have a choice, Melody." He growled, his grip tightening to the point where my vision blurred, and white dots swam before me as my pupils turned into round saucers. I greedily sucked in the air, but only pin drops snuck through. "You're mine. Your name is mine. You're..." He paused, trailing his free hand along the edges of my hoodie and down across the top of my breast as his black eyes consumed me. "The very essence of you is mine," he claimed as his gaze shifted back to mine. "Things would be much better if you just realized that." He loosened his grip, letting me breathe, finally.

Gasping for air, I coughed and took a deep breath. Once my breathing had normalized, my gaze narrowed into a fierce glare directed at the menacing figure looming before me. His large hand was still clasped around my neck.

The problem was that I didn't know when to shut the fuck up. This man was a killer, and I couldn't resist the urge to provoke him.

Leaning against his hand, I whispered. "Go fuck yourself!" A smirk played on my lips. He lit a fire inside my soul. Deep down, I must have thought he wouldn't hurt me since he was fighting for my sake, yet I was quickly reminded that wasn't true.

He held me closer, his breath peppering against the spot on my neck where I could feel my pulse react to his touch. His thumb moved in a slow, gentle motion across my skin. "One pressure point is all it takes. One pressure point to end your existence." He warned in a deep whisper. I felt my throat tighten as he pulled away, lifting his mask just enough to reveal the shape of his full, succulent lips. "Pull down your leggings," he ordered. When I didn't respond, he swiftly grabbed his butterfly knife, revolving it in my face before placing it under my chin. "Pull them down NOW!"

My hands moved down to my leggings without my permission, and I slowly took them off while never breaking eye contact with him.

Without saying a word, he kneeled before me and lifted my leg onto his shoulder. I gasped as his warm breath sent a shiver through me when it brushed against my damp center.

I wasn't sure why I was giving in to him so easily. Maybe I was just as much of a psychopath as him. Perhaps he brought out the demon in me. Or maybe it was always there, waiting for the right person to unleash it. Regardless, I couldn't resist him.

He sensually lapped circles around my clit, his facial hair sending a delicious tingle down my inner thighs as he kissed and sucked. My head fell back, leaning against the door, as his other hand slowly moved up my body, barely grazing the curve beneath my breasts. Pleasure erupted from me with a moan when he pressed harder against me, pushing me up against the door while gently dragging his knife against my skin, causing a sharp but pleasurable pain that reverberated through my core. His tongue created waves of pleasure with every flick. Suddenly, I felt a jolt of energy run through me like a lightning bolt. My heart raced, and I felt alive more than ever before; it was almost like I was on fire from the inside out. He must've sensed it because he increased the lapping of his tongue against my folds, pushing deeper into me with each lick, until I finally felt all the tension leave my body. An intense wave of pleasure takes its place. At the same time, screams of ecstasy escaped my lips and vibrated off the walls around us.

It felt like an eternity before the intensity of my orgasm slowly died down, and I was left with a feeling of warmth that radiated from my core. He carefully pulled away, leaving me completely breathless and panting heavily against the door, trying to understand what had just happened and why I let it happen.

He straightened up and put the mask back over his alluring lips, saturated with my essence. His other hand held the black butterfly knife at my throat. With his thumb, he lightly ran it from side to side on my bottom lip. "You taste like paradise, mi Reina. Just remember, I made you cum for my pleasure, not yours. No one else will ever touch you besides me. Disobey me, and I will kill everyone in my path until you have no one left in this world but me," he said coldly.

My heart sank as a lump formed in my throat.

"See you tomorrow, my sweet Melody," he said quietly before carefully moving me away from the door and slipping out of it.

The door shut, trapping me in my head with emotions. Anger. Shame. Hate. How could I let him manipulate me? I was so na?ve and stupid and beyond frustrated.

Alright, masked asshole, I'll play your games… For now.