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A disaster might or might not kill you, princess. But being terrified of it would definitely finish you.
These eyes that resemble the clashing of a rainy forest with the night.
He’s colorless, and not in a bland sense, but in the exact opposite way.
“You’re whatever the fuck I call you, baby.”
He releases a low chuckle that sends chills down my spine. It doesn’t reach his eyes, not even close, but it’s the first time he’s shown any semblance of human emotion. And I don’t know why I find myself memorizing every second of it.
“I like the feel of your quickening pulse.”
It’s like he’s living, but not alive…as if he’s…” “A monster,” I finish for her. “I was going to say a psychopath.
I learned early on that I don’t fit in the normalized, stagnant, preached society. I was born to reign over it. No questions asked.
Deep inside me lurks a serial killer with fucked-up fetishes and constant demands to satiate its desires. Sometimes, the urge is dull enough to ignore, but other times, it gets to be so much that red becomes the only color I see.
His chest is a map of tattoos that could be spotted from Mars and frowned upon by aliens.
Eli, who was drinking from a bottle of water, pauses and tilts his head in our direction. Or more like in Ava’s. No words are spoken, but it’s like they’re having a silent war. Ava and Eli always had the weirdest relationship that I can’t put a name to. One thing’s for certain, though. It’s always been filled with some sort of tension.
He’s dressed so casually but still reeks of corruption, like a power-hungry politician or a bloodthirsty warlord.
“The only thing you’ll see is your blood as I stab you to death.” “I don’t mind. Red happens to be my favorite color.”
“Why the hell are you doing all of this? Are you…insane?” “Maybe. After all, insanity, evil, and ruthlessness are boundless and lawless. I’d rather be insane than an ordinary fool.”
I swear you bitches will be the death of me. One is a mafia princess, the other is suicidal, and this one lags.”
His chest ripples with every move, his abs slick and carefully built to add to his physical superiority. Tattoos of small black birds fly from his side to his chest. No, not birds, ravens. Some of them have broken wings that disintegrate in a stunning image. The shorts hang low on his hips over a defined V-line that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Even I can’t deny that he scores high on physical perfection. But all monsters look beautiful from afar. It’s up close that the ugliness shows. It’s up close that the need to run becomes a need to survive.
“You’d be bleeding out and I wouldn’t even notice. In fact, I’d use the blood to mix colors on my palette.”
“I choose to believe that you felt especially aggravated because it’s me.” “That’s called delusional.” “Semantics.”
“By the way, I like the sound of my name on your lips.” “Then you won’t be hearing it anymore.”
But if anyone gets close, close enough to see behind the façade, they find out just how dysfunctional, how cardboard they are. How…lonely they actually get.
“The word no doesn’t scare me, baby. We guys don’t give a fuck about its meaning or the lack thereof. Besides, doesn’t no mean yes sometimes?” “Not this time.” “Debatable.”
Even her lips have turned redder, hotter, and should I bleed those, too? See what exactly lurks behind that thunderous pulse, the soft beauty and the translucent skin? I bet red will make her a masterpiece.
And I’ll shatter that innocence, wreck it to pieces and flounder in its blood—just like all the other things in my life. She’ll be my new masterpiece.
“Since you’re somewhat of a prude, your cursing with that sweet voice is in fact a turn-on, so unless you’re willing to suck my cock, I’d advise you to refrain from it.”
She snorts, and usually, that would be juvenile as fuck on other people. On her, however? I want to bite her lips into my mouth, feast on them with my tongue, and rip them against my teeth. And that, ladies and gentleman, is the first time I’ve thought about kissing someone before I’ve even fucked them.
Kissing is pointless anyway, and I don’t indulge in the activity in the first place. So why are my fingers twitching to wrap around her throat as I devour her lips?
I want to see inside her. Literally and figuratively.
“Never say never, baby.”
Her skin appears pale blue in the darkness, like fresh corpses. If she somehow starts bleeding and the red is added to the mix, her skin will look ethereal under the moon.
As she watches the fireflies, I watch her. I’m captured in a chokehold by the way her shoulders relax and her lips fall open. And the way her eyes reflect the yellow lights like a mirror.
Commemorating the moment feels like a need instead of a mere action. It’s not impulse either; it’s much fucking worse.
“I’ll quit if you take their place and keep my lips and hands busy.”
“You shouldn’t be proud of being evil.” “That’s the thing, baby. I don’t see myself as evil.” “Please don’t tell me you see yourself as a hero.” She sounds even more spooked than earlier. “No, I don’t. I just see myself as neutral. Instead of black, white, or gray. I’m colorless.” “You’re an entity. You can’t be colorless.” She huffs. “You’re just black.” “Black?” “Yeah, I give people colors and you’re definitely black, like your soul, heart, and that disturbing head of yours.”
This girl is getting herself into big fucking trouble. Because I want to keep talking to her. And I don’t even like talking to people. I want to own her, even though I have no fucking clue what owning people is all about. It can’t be different from having pets then wanting to see inside them, right?
“Trying is free. Succeeding isn’t, peasant.”
Grandpa stares up at her for a beat, his eyes easing at the corners. I’ve always loved the way he looks at her. As if she’s the only one who can melt the ice inside him. The only one who understands him in ways no one else can.
“So it is you. I had a feeling when I saw your little white panties through your shorts but couldn’t be sure.” His voice darkens to a chilling edge. “I thought I told you to be good and stay put tonight.”
“Try again and in a less spooked tone, because your nervousness turns me on.”
“Look at you being adorable.” Both darkness and amusement laces his tone. “Didn’t I say your nervousness turns me on? Let’s add your denial, too.”
“The world is painted in different colors, depending on the angle you see it from. Every single ideal can be turned monstrous when it’s pushed to the limits. I’m the limits. I’m the edges humans are warned to stay away from but are attracted to anyway, because it’s just so different from what they know. And because I’m permanently on the edge, I need constant stimuli to remain functioning. Fighting, hunting, and being a doctor-in-the-making are those stimuli.”
“That night, you had this dead look in your eyes, like someone who was tired—not bored, just fucking exhausted.” He steps toward me and I retreat, matching his steps. “Did you think about how it’d feel at the bottom of that ocean with your head cracked against the rocks? How you’d be asphyxiated by the water for minutes on end? Death by drowning is the most difficult. You open your mouth, bubbles will float, but water is the only thing you’ll get into your lungs. You think you want to die, but the more you breathe in water and choke on it, the more you’ll regret it. So tell me, Glyndon, did
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“Why would you change? You’re fine the way you are.”
A gorgeous monster.
A trail of blood trickles from his temple, over his lids, and down his cheek and jaw, giving him a strikingly dangerous edge.
He’s like a different species all on his own.
I don’t realize what’s going on until a loud sucking sound echoes in the air. I gasp around his cock as my whole body ignites. “Stop and I’ll stop,” he whispers against my folds. “I’d hate to see this tight little cunt go unsatisfied.”
“Smart little rabbit.”
“Fucking red.”
“Believe me, little rabbit, that won’t be happening. Not unless you want some splashes of his blood on this flawless skin. Though I’m sure it’d look pretty, don’t you think?”
