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She is mine. Ours, my demon reminds me.
“It’s probably because I have zero self-worth and because my parents were divorced when I was five. I’m ugly, I stumble over my words, I’m too scared to go anywhere new because of my crippling anxiety, and I don’t understand why anyone would want to associate themselves with me. And it’s so, so easy to leave. So when someone shows any interest in me, I cling to it like a life preserver. Their attention keeps me afloat. It keeps me out of the darkest corners of my mind where I love to retreat when everything gets too hard.”
“Because if you’re going to love me, I need you to love me with every single fiber of your being,”
“I want someone’s full and unyielding attention. I want someone to look at me and only me. That way I know that person will never leave me.”
What was the point of what I had done? I had never wanted to care for any of the other women I had stalked and hunted.
She’s rambling, and it’s…almost endearing. I stand in silence, looking at her with a small smile on my lips. Her blush creeps higher, and I can’t help but enjoy making her uncomfortable. It makes her look unmistakably alive.
“Just as a disclaimer, I rarely think people are attracted to me until they give me attention. If someone is staring at me, I assume it’s just because I’m fat or because I’ve got my resting bitch face on—anything other than that they’re actually interested in me as a person. But once they show interest in me, I latch on and open up. I have this houseplant at home. I’m not sure what it is, but it just sits in front of my window. And after about a week of not watering it, it will start to wilt. But once I give it just a small amount of water, it perks up within minutes. That’s what I feel like.
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“I just need to find someone that will obsess over me the way I obsess over them.” “Do you think that’s really what’s healthy, though, Lyra? Is obsession healthier than love?” I look over at her and muster a smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. “That’s all I have to offer.”
“I am obsessed with you.”
“My Little Rat,” he whispers as he strokes my cheeks with his thumbs.
“You taste fucking delicious, Little Rat. I could survive off of your sweet pussy for the rest of my life.”
“I crave the taste of your blood almost as much as the taste of your cunt,” he growls into my ear.
He takes what he wants, and I let him. I’m his toy to do with as he pleases.
“There’s no God here,” he continues, bringing me back to the moment and lifting my hips with one arm to somehow get even deeper.
“There’s just a demon feeding on his Little Rat.”
With a final breath, the darkness calls, and I answer it.
