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Loathing… disgust… confusion… not at what that son of a bitch was doing… no… at my dick springing into fucking action, at my blood rushing through my veins, at the delicious shiver spreading all over my body leaving goosebumps in its trail, at the fucking rush of lust and pleasure that spread all over my body when her fear hit my ears.
I dropped on my knees and stayed there for what felt like hours, processing what had happened.
That was the first time I actually felt someone’s emotions, and empathy is not my strong point. I understand my mother loves me; I learned how to read people, I understand the shifts in disposition, the rise in the pulse, the strain of the facial expressions, the way the temperature of the skin changes depending on moods, but actually feeling someone’s emotions… no… that night was the first time.
I didn’t know how to process it… I could feel it haunting me for days… she was terrified, she was in pain… and I ran…
— ‡ —
That night haunted me for years. I looked for that rush in every girl I was with, but then I realized that I was gaining a reputation at school. I was the beast that fucked girls until they screamed. Yet no matter what, most of them still came back for more. I’m not sure if it was a challenge for them or if they actually craved what I had to give. I didn’t give a shit either way; I fucked them all anyway, searching endlessly for that banshee scream that made me feel.
I never found it… I enjoyed it though, throwing them around, stretching their young pussies with my fingers and my dick. I enjoyed pushing their limits. Further and further, I pushed. And sometimes though… sometimes… I slammed my thick dick into them without any prep and even though they never said anything, I knew it hurt them and I fucking loved it. I loved the yelp they let out from the pain, I fed on it, fed on their nails digging hard into my skin, feeling how their bodies tensed up and their pussies strangled me—it was the closest thing to what I felt that night in the park.
Eventually, I thought it was an anomaly, a horrible dream or a beautiful nightmare that twisted that sound in my head, made me think it meant more than it truly did because nothing I have tried since made me feel the same thing ever again.
Until one night, years later…
Fresh out of University, barely twenty-two years old and as I was going home to my rented apartment after a night out with some friends when the banshee revealed herself to me.
Down a quiet street, through a dark and dirty alleyway, I found her. Trapped against the filthy flesh of a man trying to abuse her. The banshee screamed and screamed, even against his filthy palm and all the memories came flooding back. That pain in the soundwaves, the fear in its wake, the foreboding… it filled me with adrenaline, with pleasure, with pain—I felt it all, felt what she felt, and it made me feel alive, so fucking alive. Yet her voice, there was something about it, something I couldn’t quite put my hand on. A song.
My dick came out to play as well, hard as a fucking rock, but this was not its time, no… this was fuel for my soul, like a beautiful, dark self-discovery, my senses blooming, reveling in all the new sensations flooding them.
I went straight for them and with a smile on my fucking face I beat that filthy motherfucker to a pulp until he couldn’t get up anymore.
I didn’t kill him, no, I just left him mangled and bloodied on the wet concrete, cradling his stomach as he was going in and out of consciousness. He fucking deserved it all, and I turned my back on him with a new purpose embed deep into my soul.
The woman though… in that dark alley, I didn’t get a good look at her, but her hair was wild, long, dark, and thick; it seemed like it was floating around her and those eyes… even in the dark of the night, they shined. There was something about her, but she ran before I could say anything, yet strangely, she stayed until I was done beating that asshole.
That night I found my way into a couple of fetish websites and I searched and searched until I found women willing to play my game.
And I played… for years I played… and it was fun, they fed my hunger, but never enough to be fully sated. I never ever found what I was looking for, what I craved, what my soul needed.
That banshee scream that completed my soul.
SUKI
I feel the pain, traveling like lightning through my body, a psychological one that is threatening to destroy me.
Then I feel the physical pain. My scalp is burning badly, my back, my ass and my legs feel like they are being dragged through hot coals.
I blink a few times only to realize I am actually being dragged by my hair, through the rough terrain of the woods, the snow ironically burning my skin. I wince as I throw my arms backwards, finding the hand dragging me along, and I pull as hard as I can, scratching his skin in the process. That action earns me a painful slap on my right cheek, making the throbbing pain in my head even worse.
I wince and dig my heels into the ground, thankful for the boots I am wearing, and pull on his arm as hard as I can. He stumbles forward, losing his grip and my head hits the ground with a loud thud that makes me see white. At this point, I most likely have a concussion, yet it is still the least of my worries.
“You fucking bitch!”
I see his boots turning fast towards me and I try to scurry backwards, but I do not manage to move far enough before I see his boot coming violently towards me. He kicks me once in the ribs and the pain spreads so quickly through my body that it almost stuns me. I push through it as I urge my body not to falter and I try to get up.
He kicks me again, getting my belly this time, making me instantly nauseous and it makes me stumble. I’m hunched over somewhere in front of him, but I dig my heels in the ground and push myself forward as hard and as fast as I can, slamming my body into his. He grabs onto me and tries to hold his balance as he stumbles backwards, slipping on the icy snow at the same time.
“What the fuck?!” he yells at me as his body slams hard into a tree, and I use the force of a punch in his gut to push myself away from him.
I take a step back and before he regains his wits, I side kick him in the bleeding wound my shattered glass left behind. He bellows in pain, yet those sounds are filled with hate and peril.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, little bird! I’m gonna burn you, cut you, brand you, then I’m gonna tear your fucking heart out as my dick rips your fucking cunt open!”
I turn to run as those words sink deep beneath my skin, fully aware that they are not empty threats… not at all. I manage to run a few yards before the pain in my ribs knocks the air out of me, but before I can even process what is happening, I feel something hitting my back so hard, I land face first on the ground, my arms barely reaching under me to break my fall.
