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twenty-four

Lies and Obsessions

Scarlett

B eing in their apartment is like being in a whole new world, one that opens my eyes to who these guys really are. With just me and Saint, it feels somewhat normal, but seeing random weapons and dried blood stains on the carpet remind me that this is far from fucking normal. Pushing me on the couch, he sits beside me, staring at me as if he has something on his mind he wants to get off.

"What is it?" I ask him, hoping he'll open up to me, but knowing deep down it's a long shot.

"Just thinking about Carli," he says randomly, a devilish grin taking over his sexy lips, and it makes a bone chilling shiver rock my body—something isn't right.

"What about her?" I ask, afraid of finding out the answer.

"Shawn didn't kill her. I did," Saint says, grinning, leaving me feeling like my whole world just got turned upside down.

"What are you talking about? I saw what happened," I yell, confused, not wanting to believe him.

"No, you saw what you wanted to see, Scarlett. I was there. I killed her. I planned this the moment I laid eyes on you. I told you that you were mine from the start."

My heart sinks and it's then I realize this was all a fucking trap. No wonder the bullet was perfectly between her fucking eyes. Shawn couldn't have done that, swinging the gun the way he was.

My mind races as I try to process Saint's words. How could he have done such a thing? How could I not have seen any hint of his true intentions?

Anger and betrayal surge within me, causing my voice to tremble as I respond, "You're lying! You're just trying to mess with my head even more!"

Saint's laughter echoes through the room, the sound grating against my raw emotions. "Oh, trouble, you always were so na?ve. Shawn was merely a pawn in my game. I used him, manipulated him, just as I have done with countless others before him. And you, my little killer, were the ultimate prize."

A sickening feeling churns in my stomach as the truth starts to settle in. I remember the strange coincidences, the too-perfect timing of our meetings. It was all carefully orchestrated by Saint and the others to lure me in. A wave of self-disgust washes over me, accompanied by a sickening realization that I had been played from the very beginning.

"How could you do this? How could you toy with people's lives like they're nothing but playthings to you?" I hiss through gritted teeth, trying to control the rage simmering beneath the surface.

The person I had believed to be there by chance, had been the one orchestrating my downfall.

Saint's expression remains smug, his eyes gleaming with a twisted pleasure. "Oh, Scarlett, don't be so righteous. The world is a playground, and we are all just pawns in the game of survival. You see, I have always been one step ahead, manipulating the pieces to ensure my victory. And you, my little psycho, were just another pawn in this grand scheme."

A flicker of defiance ignites within me, fueled by the desire to reclaim my power. I straighten my posture, meeting Saint's cold gaze with unwavering determination. "Maybe you think you've won, but I refuse to be just another pawn in your sick game. You may have fooled me once, but I won't let you destroy anyone else."

Saint's laughter morphs into a sinister chuckle, his face contorting with amusement. "Oh, Scarlett, you underestimate the lengths I'll go to protect my secrets. Your pathetic attempts to expose me will only lead to your own demise. You fucking belong to us now, and there's no escaping the fate that awaits you."

As he utters those final words, a chill runs down my spine, and I can't help but wonder if this twisted game will ever truly end. But despite the fear that lingers within me, I refuse to surrender. I will dig deep, uncover every secret, no matter the cost. Because one thing is certain—I will not let Saint's darkness consume me or anyone else. The fucking battle has only just begun.

Blade

Walking into the apartment, the atmosphere is grim and suffocating. Finding Scarlett cowering in the corner of the couch while Saint sits there and watches TV, I wonder to myself what the fuck he did now to make her so terrified of him when everything was fine when we left. While Nixon and Riley drag the helpless man to the back room, bound, gagged, and beaten so bad he's unrecognizable, I walk over and sit down between them, determined to find out what happened now.

"What's going on here?" I ask, looking at sinner but talking to Saint.

"Oh, she's mad again. What else is new?" He says callously, as if he couldn't give a fuck. His demeanor—his whole shift in attitude is changing, reminding me of how he gets when he's about to fucking snap.

"Why is she mad, Saint?" I ask, trying to brace myself for his response.

He shrugs, refusing to answer, so I scoot toward Scarlett and reach out to touch her. She flinches and cowers even more, looking afraid and even more pissed off than she's ever looked. Turning back to Saint, I shove him, but he doesn't react.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" I scream, causing Nixon and Riley to come running from the back room at the end of the hall.

"Whoa, what's the fucking problem?" Nixon tries to intervene, pulling me off of Saint.

Still not reacting, Saint sits there and watches some murder documentary on the ID Channel, looking hypnotized more than he ever has. He looks like he's about to have a psychotic break. He needs his fucking meds.

"Saint, I think it's time for your meds, brother," Riley says, taking the words right out of my mouth before I had the chance to say them.

The three of us look at each other, then look at Scarlett, then back at Saint, who doesn't even acknowledge us. Nothing but the sound of murderous screams come from the TV and sinner's sobs fill my ears, making me want to scoop her into my arms and hold her tightly. Growing annoyed, Nixon grabs the remote and turns the TV off, finally getting Saint's attention.

"I was fucking watching that."

"Well we were fucking talking to you," Nixon snaps, annoyed with his behavior, much like the rest of us.

"What the fuck do you want?" Saint bites, lighting a cigarette as he whips his head around to face Scarlett, his lips tugging up into a sadistic grin.

"What the fuck did you do to her this time? You were only alone with her for a few minutes." I keep pestering him, wanting to know the answer, hating seeing her so upset.

"I didn't do anything to her. I just told her the fucking truth."

"The truth about what?"

"About Carli's murder." He grins, looking toward Riley.

"What do you mean about her murder?" Riley asks, stepping closer to the couch.

"Scarlett, baby, why don't you tell them what I told you?" Saint laughs, definitely on the verge of a breakdown, I can hear it in his voice.

The three of us look at her, patiently waiting for her to tell us this big secret she's so afraid of him for telling her. She looks up, tears streaming down her face. But she doesn't look sad anymore—she looks fucking pissed.

"Shawn didn't kill your sister, Riley…" She glares at Saint before looking back at Riley, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. "Saint killed her and made it look like Shawn did… all so he could have a reason to fucking torture me."

Our jaws drop as he turns to Saint, speechless. He grins, waiting for the yelling to start, but it doesn't come. None of us knows what to say.

"I take it by the looks on your faces, none of you knew that he fucking betrayed you." Scarlett gets up and walks down the hall, not even bothering to give us another glance.

Hearing the door slam, Riley finally speaks, charging at Saint, wrapping his hand around his throat. "You mother fucker! You killed my fucking sister?"

"Please, you always complained about wanting her ass dead, so I killed her for you. I saw an opportunity and took it. I bet each one of you would've done the same fucking thing." Saint gets up, shoving Riley off of him, and heads for the balcony, leaving us all shocked and frozen in our spots.

"Did you know about this, Blade?" Riley sneers, running his hands anxiously through his hair as he paces.

"Fuck no. I thought Shawn killed her. This is the first time I'm hearing this shit." And it's the truth. This whole year not once did Saint tell me the fucking truth about him killing Carli. But it does make sense.

"I fucking knew it didn't make sense how she fucking died," Nixon says, shaking his head in disbelief as he sits on the couch, opening a bottle of absinthe and chugging it like it's water. "The shot was too perfect to be a fucking accidental shot. But why would he keep it from us?"

"Probably because it was my fucking sister he killed; he figured I'd hate him for it. I hate him for fucking lying about it, but Carli was a cunt who deserved to fucking die." Riley walks to the door, staring at Saint, who looks lost as he gazes at the falling snow as it covers the city in a fluffy blanket of slush.

"Let me go fucking talk to him and straighten this shit out… you guys go cheer Scarlett up. Show her the surprise we brought home for her—make a mess while you're at it."

Scarlett

Sitting on the bed in Nixon's room, I'm reminded of the time when he brought me back here after playing his "Chase You, Taste You" game. Hearing muffled screams from the next room, they're hard to ignore, but noticing they're getting even louder, I turn my head toward the door just as it opens. Blade and Nixon stand there, smiling sweetly for once, holding a bloody, beat up man in between them as they enter the room, closing the door behind them.

"Hey, my beautiful little killer," Blade says, coming closer to the bed as he lets go of the man to hold me.

Pulling me to my feet, his hands run all over my body, his eyes stay on my cave as he licks his lips, dying to kiss me as I lick mine to tease him. Unable to get Saint's betrayal out of my head, I make the first move, crashing my lips on his as I grab his waist and tug him toward the bed, pulling him down so he falls on top of me.

"Not so fast, killer." Nixon approaches with the man, throwing him down on the bed as he hands me a knife and my mask. "Put this on and take off your clothes, brat; we're going to have some messy fun."

Not in the mood to argue with them and in desperate need to feel alive more than ever, I slip the mask over my face as they put theirs on and quickly undress as they do. Looking up, we're all masked and naked, staring down at the man on the bed I'm about to kill—and I don't have a shred of doubt about it.

"You know what to do, sinner." Blade gets behind me, kneeling as he begins licking my pussy from behind as I bend over the man, raising my knife high, staring into his scared eyes.

Feeling his tongue licking me and dipping into my pussy, I can't move, the pleasure is too intense. But Nixon comes over and pushes me down more, his tongue licking around my ass while Blade continues to tongue fuck my pussy, making me writhe against the terrified beaten man beneath me.

Their fingers find my holes and begin their brutal assault, only lasting briefly before they decide to use their knives instead. Nixon slides the handle of his in and out of my ass slowly, making my body spasm with pure bliss as I drag my blade across the man's throat, getting off from the fear in his eyes.

"Good little brat," he says, kissing along my spine.

Blade works the handle of his knife deep in my pussy, using his fingers to roll teasing circles over my clit that have my hips bucking wildly from the incredible sensation.

"As soon as you plunge that knife into him, killer, we'll plunge our cocks into you… be a good girl for us." Blade kisses the inside of my trembling thighs, urging me to use my knife instead of torturing the man with it… and so I do, wanting their cocks more than anything.

Raising the knife, I plunge it into his throat, watching blood leak out immediately, pooling onto the sheet below. Right away, they take their knives out of my pussy and my ass and get into position, keeping me bent over the bleeding man. Blade enters my ass in one brutal thrust while Nixon slams into my pussy, both filling me to the brink.

"So tight… so wet… so bloody." Blade winks as I turn my head to look at him, wanting his approval so bad for some reason.

Plunging the knife into him over and over again, blood splatters everywhere, making a mess of Blade, Nixon, and me as we roll around in it. Still, they fuck me over the dead body, thrusting harder and faster, smearing the dead man's blood all over me like they're fingerpainting.

"Yes, fuck…" Blade moans, holding me tightly.

How can something so vile be so good? How can two people who are so bad for you be so good for you? It makes no sense. I need to get away from them, but I want to stay. Holding the knife, I keep slashing as they keep fucking me.

The scene is a chaotic blend of violence and desire, the very embodiment of twisted pleasure and self-destruction. Each thrust and slash intensifies the conflicting emotions within me, leaving me torn between the urge to escape and the pull to remain entangled in this sadistic dance.

"Your pussy loves my cock, doesn't it, brat?"

"Yes, God, yes," I pant.

Blade and Nixon, my two partners in this maddening act, seem unfazed by the horrific display we've become. They revel in the macabre, finding pleasure in the blood that coats our bodies and mingles with our sweat. It's as if their souls are intertwined with the darkness, embracing the abyss without succumbing to its grip.

"Yes!" I scream.

As the adrenaline courses through my veins, I question my own sanity. How could I be drawn to such depravity? The severed connection between right and wrong threatens to unravel my very existence. But in the midst of this insanity, I found a twisted solace, a vile delight that defied reason.

"Look at how fucking sexy you look, sinner."

Every slash of the knife and every thrust of their cocks only deepens my obsession. It's a paradoxical addiction, one that defies all logic and comprehension.

Deep down, I know I need to break free from this destructive cycle. The pull of self-preservation urges me to abandon this morbid trio and seek shelter in the light. Yet, an inexplicable desire holds me captive, chaining me to the darkness that surrounds us.

My grip on the knife tightens, my movements becoming more frenzied as I desperately try to make sense of it all. The crimson stains on my skin soak into my being, marking me as a willing accomplice to this unhinged affair. It's as if I had become an embodiment of the demons that tormented my mind.

I long for clarity amidst this chaos, a moment of respite from the relentless torment. But with each passing moment, the realization grows stronger—the answers I want would not be found in their embrace. The only way to truly find salvation was to sever my ties with this perverse euphoria.

The knife slips from my grasp, clattering to the floor, its metallic echo serving as a grim reminder of the violence that had consumed us. My body convulses, my breath heavy and labored, the guilt and shame clawing at my conscience as my climax rips through me like a violent wave of forced pleasure—but I want it, all of it. They fuck me harder, ripping me apart, clawing at me, and smearing me in blood as their cum pours into me, mixing with the blood of the man I just killed for them.

"Good, brat. Come for us. Soak me, psycho. "

My pussy grips Nixon's cock while my ass tightens around Blade's, both of them grunting through their own release as the three of us tremble and scream, euphoria washing over us as we collapse on the bloody bed.

"I want you to stay," Blade admits.

In that fleeting moment, a flicker of clarity pierced through the darkness that surrounded me. The path to redemption may be treacherous, but I knew I had to embark on it. I had to break free from the clutches of these sinister temptations, for my own sanity and salvation.

As the echoes of our twisted affair reverberated in my mind, I turned my back to Blade and Nixon, and the haunting memories we had created. With every breath and memory that hit me at full force I felt the heavy weight of their influence lessening, allowing a glimmer of hope to permeate my shaken spirit.

Though the scars, both physical and emotional, would forever bear witness to the depth of my descent, I vowed to embrace the journey of rebuilding. For in the wake of darkness, there lies the potential for growth, for redemption, and for a chance at a life free from the shackles of self-destruction.

They want me to stay but I want to leave… I've never been more torn in my life. I was so set on killing them. I need to kill them, plain and simple. I have to kill them.