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This right here is the moment I realize I am trapped. If I will ever leave this world alive, my soul will not come with me. It will forever belong on this mountain, with him.
— ‡ —
I turn my gaze back to the flames. This feels like an unspoken truce between us. No one is running and no one is chasing. Not today, anyway.
We sit in front of the fire in a comfortable silence for a long while, when his deep rugged voice breaks it.
“The man that killed my girlfriend is the first man I ever killed.”
First… I do not move or respond. I give him the same courtesy he gave me, but that word… it makes me shiver.
“We were on this backstreet, there wasn’t anyone there, it was already dark outside… no cameras. She jumped out of my car, turned to cross the street, and was in the middle of the road when he hit her, then drove off, just… drove off. I ran to her, she was still alive, dying in excruciating pain, her body twisted unnaturally, her right arm was almost completely ripped off her body…”
I turn my head and look at him. His expression is blank, there is no emotion in those eyes, like the story he is telling me is something that happened to someone else… He turns to look at me.
“She was running across the street because I just broke up with her, after almost six years together. She thought I was going to propose that night…”
Christ…
“She died because of me.”
No matter how much I want to believe it was fate or just meant to be this way, it is hard to argue his point… If he wouldn’t have broken up with her… she wouldn’t have been out of the car, running across the street.
“The police looked for the person that killed her for months. Eventually they told us that there was no evidence, no way to find him.”
He holds my gaze, growing in intensity, and I feel a cold chill running up my spine as his eyes darken and the monster reveals itself.
“But I had already found him. Less than a month after he killed her, I found him. I had no intention to tell the police, I just needed to wait for them to stop looking, to close the investigation. I was patient, I waited, studied him, and planned. I gutted him like a pig, spilled his insides at his feet while he was still alive.”
I want to be shocked by his words… by this revelation, but somehow I know that I did not expect any less from him.
“He didn’t deserve to die, not like that. I knew it was an accident, he cried like a fucking baby the whole time… I knew all of this, but it didn’t make any difference. I killed him because he represented my guilt, and that guilt had to perish. He needed to die, so I could escape that gnawing feeling that was eating me up inside, even though I didn’t love her anymore, probably never did, it was still my fault she died.”
“Did it work?” I sigh because I could not stop myself from interrupting. “Did the guilt go away?”
“Instantly. With every intestine sliding down out of his shredded body, my threads of guilt were dissipating.”
His eyes sparkle with unspoken revelations. Something else happened, something he is choosing not to reveal. Not yet anyway.
Killing a person with your own hands does something to you. If you have the right personality, it molds you into something unnaturally beautiful. Maybe it made him more violent; he already mentioned that man was the first.
That was not the effect it had on me, I did not kill again… but my thirst for violence grew considerably. Killing my mother broke a part of me, a cage that contained the real threads of my soul.
I crave blood and violence.
I crave chaos and lust.
I crave an unnatural love.
I crave a destruction of souls.
NIKLAS
The air shifted this morning, yet… after our revelations, it imploded.
We shared secret stories, stories that broke us and then stitched us back together into the people we are today. Stories that were not meant for anyone’s ears… But here, on this mountain, among the snowy pine trees, in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace, our demons found each other and their stories had to finally come forth. Because they knew… we knew… no one else would ever understand.
These weren’t confessions of our sins. This was a liberation of our souls to the world they belong in.
When I killed that guy, as his guts were slipping on the floor, the threads of guilt were replaced by something else. Something that clawed itself out from the depths of my soul. Something that was always there, lurking deep beneath the surface, behind the evil that danced through my mind.
The monster. He craved blood and a violent lust that threatened to consume me.
I look at her, in those mesmerizing, bright green eyes and I know one thing for sure—the threat is not there anymore, not because the craving is gone, but because it already broke free, consuming me.
The moment I heard this siren’s song, the monster bellowed, but when I first looked into her eyes and saw her demons calling for mine, the craving for violent lust was truly fulfilled.
Like I finally met both my victim and my match, wrapped in this beautiful, decadent, lustful package.
