Page 97 of The Blood we Crave

I knew what I was going to do tonight, had mapped out every second of the torture the moment I’d stepped inside of this tent. Yet, I felt as if I was taking a stroll through the neighborhood.

Not thrumming emotion or panic.

Just enviable death.

“What the fuck, dude,” the man attached to the wooden board mumbles. “I was just doing my job. We weren’t really gonna kill her. Just scare her a little, ya know? That it was it, I swear!”

“What’s your name?” I ask curtly, ignoring his words. Not interested in what he has to say.

He groans, grinding his teeth as tears stream from his eyes. Overtaken by so much fear, I’m sure he can barely breathe. It’s suffocating him, weighing down on his lungs like a bolder. I wonder if he’s thinking of his last moments the way I am. If he is prepared to meet his maker.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! This is so fucked. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this!”

Normally I’d play a little longer, drag out the first cut. Edge myself with the first stroke of power that surges through me when I slice open someone’s skin.

But I wasn’t in the mood to toy with my food tonight.

Like lightning slicing through the air, the black dagger whirls like a bolt. Striking the target with a thunderous thud sound, only to be followed by a screech from the depths of this man’s gut.

It tickles my ears. Warms something inside of me the same way playing Horowitz might.

Blood slimes from the center of his palm. The spear punctured through his exposed hand, pinning it effectively to the board beneath. The first stab in my human pin board.

“Michael! Michael!” He screams, skin pale as he looks over at his skewered hand. “My name is Michael!”

As I scoop another blade between my fingers, I nod. I twirl the metal, rotating it across my knuckles. This is supposed to be for Lyra. My reason in killing this main is here.

Yet, I can’t help but feel elated at the sight of him withering in pain. Squirming against his restraints, desperate for my mercy. Does that truly make me the morally gray hero everyone raves about? Right the wrongs that society would never? Or is this just an excuse to tap into the side of me that is hungry for the kill?

My eyes flick towards the audience, scanning the empty seats until my gaze connects with hers. She is a nightmare version of herself. Swallowed by cuts, bruises and blood that is not her own. Those wild curls are frizzed, and her clothes are soaked.

But I don’t see any of that. Not really.

I just see her.

Scarlett.

The little girl who’d thrown a shoe at me on our first encounter. One who was so afraid, but also so brave. That night, I’d seen nothing like her.

Someone so brash and bold. Flying from the closet with her inky black hair swirling and eyes filled with determination. She’d been so different from my sterilized life, so chaotic.

In that room that smelt of death, she felt like the last living thing. This beautiful, messy thing that I couldn’t kill. And the fact this scum of a man thought he could enrage me.

“Michael,” I hum, looking away and back towards my target. “It means, he who is like God.”

I am the ringmaster. The controller of the show, making him dance and squirm for my pleasure. It’s more than the physical violence, it’s the mental game that feeds my ego.

This had been what Lyra was waiting to learn. She’d been patient, jumping through all my hoops so she could witness this moment. To teach her how to screw with someone’s mind, how to break their spirit before ever touching them.

How to master the calm, be the picture of a killer.

“Do you believe you are like God, Michael? That divine blood runs through your veins and you have the power to decide the fate of life and death?”

“Don’t kill me, please. I can’t die. I’m not ready.” He pants. “This wasn’t even my idea. I was just hired and just needed the extra cash. I didn’t have a part in this.”

“But you did,” I correct. “Have a part in this. You kidnapped an innocent girl and decided your ego was more important than her life, did you not?”

“That wasn’t me! It was Colin! He wanted to kill her, not me. I just wanted to do the job.” He swallows, eyes widening. “If you let me down, I’ll take you to him. I can find out where he lives!”