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“Yes, I heard recently that it is the preferred type of victim.” I can’t keep the sarcasm at bay.
He is bent over, putting plates in the dishwasher and the muscles of his back tense, one by one like a domino that predicts doom. He does not get up though, finishing the task at hand, and I feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand and my body stills. When he is done putting the dishwasher on, he turns to me, his movements too fluid for a man his size, and I feel like an antelope in the Savannah. I see the cheetah. The cheetah sees me. I freeze, hoping its belly is full.
His palms rest on the kitchen island across from me, spread wide as he leans into them, holding my gaze.
“Is that what you think I do? Is that what you think I am, little siren?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, and I swear it echoes through the space.
“You took me… You kill people…” my voice is shaky.
“I kill people because I need theblood lustand fulfilling itcalmsme. I kill people because theirfearis the only emotion I was able to feel for years, the only food that satisfies this gnawing hunger. I kill people because it’s the only thing thatmakes sensein this world.Deathis the only thing that makes sense,” he speaks slowly, accentuating all the right words, and with every sentence he seems to get closer to me, towering higher, even though he has not moved at all.
“I took you, Suki, because like a siren you sang your song and lured me in. I took you because your song is the sound I searched for, for over a decade. I hold you because for the first time ever, fear is not the only emotion I can see and feel. I keep you because you… you are the only person that makes me feel human. I keep you because you are not whole yet.”
My lungs hurt, and I realize I have been holding my breath. His eyes… his eyes bore into me and I see a fleeting emotion, something that I do not think he knows exists and his words weigh heavily, so heavily on me. Tears fill my eyes, and I cannot explain why I feel the need to cry. His words carry sadness, and I realize that is the emotion I saw. Sadness.
I must not fall.
I must not sink in the ocean of his eyes.
This is just lust.
He straightens and leaves the room abruptly. I hear the bathroom door close and suddenly I can move again. Wiping the tears that filled my eyes, but did not fall, I actually ponder our conversation from earlier today, in his office.
Human.
His attachment to me… it is not just lust, it is not just a psychotic attraction, it is… heartbreak.
Emotions.
He is never going to let me go. Not when he believes I am unique to him. I will never be free again. Yet my twisted mind can rationalize it. My twisted soul feels for him. My twisted heart breaks and wants to hold on to him.
Do I need my freedom when the man that holds me is the only person that understands me?
Do I need my freedom when he is the only soul that would never judge me?
Do I need my freedom when he is the only one that gives me everything I ever needed and all the things I never knew I wanted?
NIKLAS
Human.
I never truly understood it until now. Her insult that I am just like Adrien woke my defensive nature and the anger seeped through, bringing out revelations along with it.
Human.
She’s my undoing and I could never unleash all that I am onto her. I am beginning to understand I was never going to do it anyway… I was just blindly following a path I thought I needed to take. I could never truly hurt her because she makes me feel… feel human.
My body leans into my palms laid on the white sink, and I look at myself in the mirror.
Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out.
“Human.”
Is that what I want? Is that how I want to feel? Is that who I want to be?
“Fuck.”
