Page 7 of Owned

Staring at the female, I allow the anger to burn me alive and inspire my creativity at how to deal with her. I grab a handful of her hair and pull her from the room. It’s easy to ignore the banging of her body hitting furniture and walls; it actually makes me smile. Her moans of pain feed me, give me strength and adrenaline, making this all possible. It helps that I have eaten recently, but usually, it takes a lot of effort and creativity to move the bodies around. I guess vengeance is more potent than food sometimes.

I drag her to the kitchen and drop her beside the table. Her drool mixing with her victim’s blood around her mouth makes disgust rise so fast that I don’t have time to stop myself from kicking her hard on the side of her head. Something pops, probably her jaw. That will help with masking the noise she is about to make.

I undo my cloak to get my bag off my shoulder and then remove the scarf from my face. I will take my time with her and make her feel things she never thought were possible. Without remorse, I smash her body onto the table, strip her bare, and retrieve the rope from my bag.

I try to tie her hands to the legs of the table, but they won’t bend how I want, so I break them in several places in order to have her laid out exactly how I want. Next are her legs. I want her struggling, fighting for her life. The best option is to keep those intact but loosely tied so that she stays in place.

Taking my time while she wakes, I stand over her and use string to tie a candle from the chandelier suspended right above her head. It gives her just enough light to see me moving around, but not enough to see what is happening.

Her scream pierces the air as the pain finally makes its way into her useless brain. I grab a discarded rag from the counter and shove it into her mouth. Her eyes widen, and her chest heaves as she battles for breath.

I roll my eyes at her theatrics. Apparently, her broken jaw won’t be enough to muffle the sounds after all. I take the rag out of her mouth and fish around for her tongue. Luckily, she is still drowsy and doesn’t try to bite me, making it easy to pull it out and slice through it. Already her screams are not nearly as loud. I shove the tongue back in her mouth and place the rag on top of it. Better. Now the neighbors won’t hear her at all.

“Surprised that your evil deeds have caught up with you? You shouldn’t be,” I seethe. “I am the ghost of the night you have all been so afraid of. And now it is your turn to suffer as your victims have.” She shakes her head vigorously as I get close to her face so that she can see my smile. “Welcome to hell.”

I pull the dagger from my boot and make small cuts all over her body. She screams around the rag, feeding my violence, helping me savor each and every slice. Wax drips in her face from the candle I tied above her, forcing her to move her head back and forth, but she still cannot escape it.

I dig around in her cabinets and drawers until I find her collection of knives. I grab a handful and lay them on the table around her. She tries to move away from me, but each movement makes her scream out. It could be from the cuts or the broken arms; either way, I am not done with her.

I pick up the knife I placed beside her left side. “You know you shouldn’t have drank from him. The female you got him from told you so.” I slam the knife into her upper arm so hard it hits the table beneath it beside her head. I pick up the next knife and inspect it carefully. “Had him brought to your house in the middle of the night, thinking you were hiding your evil from those around you.” I imbed the knife into her thigh as hard as I can. Unfortunately, it isn’t large enough to go all the way through. I run my fingers down her leg even as she fights to get away and then up her other one until I stop at the next knife. “And then you fed from him until there was barely a drop left.” This time, when I stab, I hit the bone. “Oops. Let me try that again.” I pull it out and slam down even harder this time. A smile spreads across my face at the thud of the blade hitting the wood beneath her. Tears would probably pour down her face if it wasn’t for the wax covering her eyes. Even the rag sticking out from between her lips is covered in the dark drops. “I held him as he took his last breath.” I pin her right arm to the table with the last knife and lean over to whisper into her ear. “And now I will witness yours.”

I sit in one of the empty chairs and wait, giving her time to wonder when the killing blow will come. At first, she squirms and screams around the rag, but after a while, she stills. The only sounds in the room are her blood dripping onto the stone floor and her labored breathing. As soon as she calms down, I move, picking up the largest, sharpest knife she had in her kitchen. With careful precision, I slowly pierce her chest and push with all my body weight, enjoying the sound of her ribs cracking and giving way until the blade goes all the way through to the table. Blood spurts around the knife in time with her pounding heart from the wound, covering me and everything around her. I ignore it, despite the smell calling to something deep inside of me, and watch as she struggles through her last breath.

I look down at her, admiring my handy work, and realize I feel nothing. Not anger, remorse, or even fear at what I have become. There is nothing. Well…there is a bit of glee hidden deep within. But that is something I will have to examine later.

I collect my things, shove them into my bag, and return to the young man. He deserves a proper burial, not to be left in this monster’s house. Hopefully, whoever finds him will be able to return him to his family so that he can get one.

Grief and regret hit me hard in the chest at the sight of the thin body on the bed. He had to be barely in his twenties. He barely lived before his life was stolen. And I am to blame. Yes, that bitch was the one to kill him, but it was I who failed to save him.

I place my bag beside the door and somberly walk to the bed. With careful hands, I wrap him in the sheets, making sure he is completely covered so that no one will see what she did to him. Then I cover his face with a pillowcase so that when they identify him, they won’t need to unwrap him. Lastly, I tuck him in with the comforter like a small child getting ready for bed and kiss his forehead softly before I leave the room.

Tears threaten to spill over, but I hold them back, not allowing myself to feel anything for these people again. It is over, and now I must move on. There is no reason to dwell when I cannot change the outcome, and there are more things that need saving. I will take it as a lesson learned, though. And make a promise to myself to do better next time.

I carefully open the door I entered through and make sure no one stands in the alleyway. I exit the house of horrors and use the key I swiped to lock the door behind me.

Suddenly, a familiar smell swamps me. But my alarms don’t go off because it isn’t HIS.

A strong arm wraps around my waist, and a large hand covers my mouth.

“Found you, little thief,” he says softly into my ear.

Dread pools in my stomach, and I can feel the blood draining from my face.

I fucked up.

At least, I think I did.

I checked! He wasn’t there. No one was there. I CHECKED!

But before I can fight my way out of his arms, the female with the onyx skin I memorized earlier steps out of the shadows. She moves so fast that it’s a blur. Pain shoots through my neck, and my limbs instantly get heavy.

“No,” I rasp, unable to shout like I want. “Get him to his family.” I barely get out before I lose control over my body. I start to slump, but the male moves to cradle my useless form in his arms and smiles down at me with infuriating dimples.

“It seems you now own a pet,” the female laughs as darkness overtakes me.

Iknow this isn’t my tower even before I open my eyes. My body is softly encased in a thick mattress and silky sheets. This is a luxury that only the Royals or Keryth can afford. And if the softness of it didn’t count as a factor, then the smell would.

The air, the mattress, and every scent that comes to my nose are clean and refreshing…except for me. That smell is the only one I recognize.

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