Page 19
EIGHTEEN
ADMIRATION
THE QUIET THINGS THAT NO ONE EVER KNOWS: brAND NEW
KILLIAN
A s I step into the warehouse, the first sound that reaches my ears is the echo of Gunnar's pained moans, a haunting sound that oddly heightens the moment. Calista walks forward, seemingly entranced, never once glancing back at me. Her focus remains steadfast on her steps, guiding her toward her awaiting puppet. I can sense her determination to end this, and with Gunnar being the final piece before she exacts her ultimate revenge on her parents, I can't help but wonder how much longer she'll prolong the inevitable.
With a knife in hand, she moves without a mask tonight, her lips parting to hum a tune that eludes my memory. I find myself following her silently, allowing the melody to envelop me. Before long, a smile begins to form on my lips, appreciating the unexpected beauty of her heartfelt song.
Upon turning the corner, my gaze lands on Gunnar, suspended by heavy chains from a sturdy wooden beam overhead. His appearance is a disturbing sight—Calista has clearly worked her dark magic on him, and the twisted thrill it brings me is undeniable. Both of his eyes are swollen and bruised, black and purple, with gashes marring his neck, face, and arms. Dried blood crusts his skin, pooling beneath him like a macabre testament to his suffering. It looks as if he’s faced off against Freddy Krueger himself.
"Damn, Cali, what did you do to him?" I ask, leaning closer as she lights a cigarette, letting the smoke curl right into his eyes.
"Nothing compared to what he did to me," she answers, methodically pressing the glowing end of her cigarette into his bare skin, eliciting a brief scream before she silences him with a bloodied rag she retrieves from the ground.
"I can see that." I chuckle, winking at Gunnar as he shoots me a threatening glare, one that only makes me laugh harder, fully aware that he’s helpless in this moment.
I reach for Calista, my hand finding the nape of her neck, and I pull her close, capturing her lips with mine. I push her back against Gunnar's hanging body for leverage, my free hand exploring her every contour, reveling in the knowledge that I'm giving Gunnar a sight designed to provoke his anger even further.
The moment hangs suspended as I press against her, the metallic scent of blood mingling with the smoke still drifting from her lips. The taste of rebellion is thick between us, and I can practically feel Gunnar’s fury radiating from his beaten form. I lean back, searching Calista's eyes, full of mischief and magic, and I can see a storm brewing behind them, a tempest swirling with vengeance.
“Let’s not keep him waiting too long,” I whisper, a mischievous grin stretching across my face, as if to coax her further into the madness that is overtaking us both.
In the dim light of the warehouse, her eyes flicker between excitement and caution—a dance only she can lead. She nods, her fingers trembling but resolute as she raises the knife, its blade glinting ominously.
“He's not the only one who gets to play tonight,” she whispers, as she circles Gunnar slowly, her movements deliberate and practiced, each step fueled by an intoxicating blend of anger and anticipation.
“You know, the way you’ve treated him, it’s almost sad." I laugh, soaking in the quivering tension. "But we both know how much you thrive in chaos, don't we, Cali?”
Gunnar’s teeth grind audibly at my taunts, but all I hear is the rhythm of Calista’s breathing, a sweet counterpoint to the heavy silence around us. I watch as she leans close, her breath ghosting over Gunnar's ear, as if she’s about to share secrets only the two of them could ever understand.
“Do you remember what you did to me?” she hisses, her voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “Every laugh at my expense, every moment of humiliation—tonight, I’m collecting what’s owed.” She takes the rag out of his mouth, wanting to hear his screams.
Gunnar's eyes widen, and for a fleeting moment, I see his bravado slip, revealing how acutely aware he is of the monster she’s become. Her knife bites into the flesh of his shoulder just enough to draw blood—but not so deep as to severe. She’s toying with him, savoring the way his body responds to each calculated push of pain.
“Cali, please?—”
“Don’t plead with me now,” she interrupts, pressing the knife closer to his throat, making him flinch. “You lost that right the moment you decided I was nothing.”
I lean back, admiring the scene unfolding before me. There’s an art to her madness; she’s painting blood on the canvas of their shared past, and I’m nothing more than a spectator, fueled by dark delight. In that instant, I realize how her vengeance is not merely directed at Gunnar, but at the world that had wronged her.
“We should spread the joy, don’t you think?” I suggest, suddenly invigorated by an idea. “Let’s make it a party. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us.”
Calista pauses, chewing on my words, her wild eyes sparking with inspiration. “You’re a genius, but we have a race to get to,” she breathes, a devilish smile creeping across her lips. "So I want to end this motherfucker so we can hurry up and make it."
And just like that, the warehouse transforms from a dreary setting of pain to an arena of release, echoing with the promise of glorious chaos. As we step into this new phase of our unholy alliance, I feel the chains of our past—both collectively and personally—begin to shatter, ready to unleash the monsters we’ve always been.
“Let’s paint this town red,” I say, and we both laugh at the sound of a twisted melody rising above Gunnar’s muffled protests.
It’s time to bring our enemies into the light and show them what it truly means to be hunted. With renewed purpose, Calista circles back to Gunnar, her grip on the knife steady and her eyes narrowed in determination.
“You’re the beginning,” she tells him, voice steady as steel. “Tonight, you’ll serve your penance, but you won’t be alone. No, this is just the appetizer.”
I can feel the atmosphere crackling with energy, the thrill of anticipation igniting a fire deep within my being. The idea of gathering them all—the family who looked down upon her like she was beneath them—sent chills down my spine. This wouldn’t just be a night of retribution; it would be an awakening.
“Let’s make this memorable,” I whisper excitedly, leaning toward Calista and sharing her fervor. “Let them see you, hear you. And then let’s watch them squirm.”
Calista’s grin widens in agreement, revealing the depths of her exhilaration. She raises the knife yet again, grazing it over Gunnar’s chest, tracing patterns through the bloodied fabric. “Give me your phone,” she demands, her voice sharp as the steel in her hand.
“You think I’m going to help you?” Gunnar rasped, his voice hoarse and strained.
She presses the blade harder into his chest, just enough to make him gasp. “You’re going to help me. I’ll sever your windpipe next if you make this difficult.”
With what little strength he has left, he slumps his shoulders in defeat. “It’s in my back pocket,” he mutters, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Good boy,” Calista coos, withdrawing the knife with a sickening satisfaction.
She retrieves the phone, holding it like a trophy as she navigates through his contacts, each name a ghost of their shared past.
“Who shall we summon first?” I ask, eyes glimmering with excitement.
Calista scrolls, a wicked gleam in her eye. “My parents are the last ones."
I approach Gunnar, squatting beside him to whisper taunts. “Soon, the world will become your stage. You wanted theatrics? Trust me, you’ll fucking get them—unlike anything you could’ve ever imagined.”
He struggles against his bindings, his face a mask of rage and desperation, which only intensifies my amusement. Calista chuckles softly, eyes still glued to the phone, the anticipation thick enough to slice through.
“Gunnar,” she purrs, “have you ever experienced the exhilaration of knowing your fate rests in the hands of someone you considered inferior? That’s what tonight is for you— a fucking awakening. I’ll relish every moment of your fear,” Calista murmurs, her eyes glinting with the promise of sweet vengeance.
And so we begin the evening's hunt, two entwined souls forging a dark path. The laughter of our victims would ring in our ears long after the night came to a close. This was just the beginning, and together, we would unleash a tempest of retribution.
Out of nowhere, Cali turns into the badass that I always knew she was and begins stabbing Gunnar wildly, blood spurting and splattering all over her, me, and the walls of the warehouse. She doesn't stop either. She keeps stabbing him, slicing him, and twisting the knife hard and deep. Gunnar's screams are loudly echoing in the empty warehouse.
As the darkness of the evening thickens, I can't help but wonder: Would the world ever be the same once we were done? Would anyone recognize the girl I once knew, the one who used to hide in the shadows, hoping to go unnoticed? The one whose laughter had been drowned out by ridicule, whose spirit had been broken by their cruelty? Calista was gone—the vengeful phoenix rising from the ashes of torment had taken her place, and in this newfound brutality, I was beginning to see beauty unfold.
Calista's blade was relentless, glistening like a demented star in the dim light, mesmerizing in its erratic dance, while Gunnar’s cries morphed into a grotesque symphony of anguish. The blood painted our canvas, each drop a stroke of release, a catharsis laying bare the boundaries of our pain and rage. It enveloped us, the heady aroma fueling my own sinister hunger for destruction.
“More, Cali, more!” I shouted, my own voice cracking with glee as I wrapped my fingers around the handle of her knife, sharing the sensation of power coursing from its blade.
Together, we transformed this shop of horrors into our inferno, a place where vengeance could reign supreme. Gunnar's face twisted in disbelief as he tried to comprehend the betrayal at our hands.
“You… you’re both fucking monsters!” His voice was barely above a whisper, choked by the reality of our combined wrath.
"Monsters? Oh, you have no idea." Calista snarled, pulling back for one powerful thrust that buried the knife deep into his abdomen, her eyes locking onto his, her expression a mix of feral joy and pure exhilaration. “But tell me, whose monster am I?”
I leaned forward, my breath tickling her ear, whispering dark flourishes of encouragement. “You’re ours now, Cali. The world never deserved you; it only helped shape you into this glorious force. Keep going; let them know who you are.”
With each lunge, Gunnar's body sagged, the chains creaking and groaning under the weight of his defeat. I could see the fight slipping from him as life ebbed away, the light in his eyes flickering like a dying candle. And with every ounce of his energy that faded, I felt Calista breathe deeper, more fervently, as if feeding off his despair.
“Call your parents, Cali,” I urged, hypnotized by the chaotic beauty before me. “Let them hear his last breaths. Let them know what they wrought.”
Grinning maniacally, Calista released the knife, letting it stay embedded as she retrieved the phone, thumb hovering over the screen. “Hold on, let’s get a picture,” she breathed, framing the scene so perfectly—the broken was right beside her, the blood-soaked memories blooming like flowers around us.
“Smile, Gunnar,” I chortled, snapping a quick pic that would send chills down anyone who bore witness to it. “You’re about to be a fucking star.”
The tension thickened, an electric charge in the air as she pressed call, the signal crackling through the warehouse. I can just imagine her parents’ faces when they answer, the abruptness of reality crashing down upon them like a hammer.
As the phone rang, each chime resonated with the finality of fate. "This will be their wake-up call," I warned, the corners of my mouth edging up in excitement.
“Hello?” The voice on the other end was composed, but I could sense the undercurrent of concern. My pulse quickened; I was ready for the reveal.
“Oh, it’s me, Mom,” Calista said, her tone deceptively sweet. “No, I’m not at the party." And then her voice dropped an octave, taking on a more menacing edge. “I’m with Gunnar; remember him? You thought he’d be the one to ruin me forever.”
Silence reigned as realization sunk in on the other end. I could almost see the gears shifting in her mother’s head, piecing together the horrific tableau she’d conjured. “What… what are you talking about?”
Calista’s laughter was a symphony of madness, blending seamlessly with Gunnar’s ragged gasps. “I’m talking about justice, Mom. I’m making sure you both pay for what you did to me.”
I seized the moment, grabbing onto vitality from Gunnar’s last seconds, squeezing as the tension curled around us like a predator. “You always wanted a performance, didn’t you? Well, here it is, a masterpiece curated just for you both.”
With a final, savage twist of the knife, I watched as life extinguished from Gunnar’s eyes. An eerie calm settled over the warehouse, a resonance settling in deep as his body fell limp. Calista, still caught in the throes of her frenzy, flicked the remnants of blood from her hands with triumph. The line went dead, the realization seeping painfully into their minds.
"Goodbye, Mom," Calista hissed, her eyes glistening with joy.
The chilling potential of a thousand nightmares danced across her flushed cheeks. The world beyond the warehouse walls felt less than fantasy; it was our canvas, our proclamation of defiance against the very parents that had suffocated her spirit. Calista dropped the phone, her wild laughter ringing hollow but echoing with newfound freedom.
"They will know!" she cried, the fervor of revenge painted intricately with the shadows around us.
Together, we stood, triumphant and drenched in crimson, lovers of chaos united. The hunt was far from over, and I could sense the horizon stretching before us, hiding countless more thrills and threats. What would we uncover next?
The line between hero and villain had never been so blurred, and as we stepped over Gunnar’s remains, I couldn’t help but smile, ready to script the next chapter of our tale. Would the night ever extinguish our urge for destruction? The thrill of the chase was just beginning. Our monsters were only awakening, and I couldn’t wait for our encore.
1. Mother
2. Father
3. Holden Graham
4. Gunnar
5. Adam Moretti (Ash's father)
6. David Blacksburg (Kill's father)
7. Jackson Gray (Dom's father)
8. State Senator Pete Gallagher
9. Mayor Kyle Benjamin
10. City Councilman Marcus Rutherford
11. Judge Hayden Wilson
12. Brockton Chief of Police Robert Bailey
13. City Councilman Mr. Josè Brown