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They’re just as thirsty for blood as I am. I jump to my feet and walk in a wide circle around my suffering opponent, the once powerful man now watching me like a hawk, looking to see what I’ll do next. I’m a lion on the prowl, a predator ready to take out its prey and enjoy an evening with a belly full of food.
He has to know the end is near, doesn’t he? I even let him try to stand while I catch my breath, and I watch in disgust as he barely makes it halfway before collapsing again. His eyes widen in evident fear as I charge toward him.
How dare he be this easy to defeat? He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as me, much less to fight me the way he thought he could.
He shakes his head ever so slightly when I reach him, and somehow that only enrages me further, so much so that I take him by the head and press my thumbs against his eyes.
His screams ring out a moment later while he fights desperately to shove me off, landing blow after blow against my thighs, ribs, and arms.
The blows don’t phase me. Nothing seems to matter more at that moment. Something has taken hold of me, the same something that always does at this moment. I hear nothing else but his screams. I see nothing else but his agony as I dig my thumbs deep into his sockets, feeling the warmth of blood on my hands as it begins to drip down his cheeks.
Finally, both eyes give way with a satisfying, if slightly stomach-churning, squelching sound, and his screams turn to high-pitched shrieks.
“Finish him!”
“Fucking kill him!”
“Get it over with!”
Not yet.Not until I hold his bleeding head in the crook of my left arm while taking hold of his mouth with my right.
I insert my fingers, then curl them around his lower jaw. He flails blindly, still shrieking, and the sound only intensifies when I manage to tear the lower half of his jaw away from the upper half. Blood pours from his mouth, splattering on the floor, splashing against my arm and up to my elbow.
The crowd’s cheers have lessened as more and more of them react in horror. I take a long look around and find identical expressions of dismay on the faces that were, moments ago, flushed and glowing with excitement. And all the while, he screams wordlessly.
With a quick snap, I break the poor bastard’s neck and let him drop into the pool of his blood. It splatters upward, painting my chest while I stand victorious over him, my chest heaving, his blood dripping from my hands.
What would Charlotte think if she saw me now? My gaze sweeps over the crowd, but I don’t see that golden head anymore, the one so much like hers.
Eli steps up. “The winner!” He takes hold of my wrist and raises it above my head. There’s cheering again, louder from those who’ve made money tonight. I’m panting, sore from the few blows he managed to connect, but for the first time in forever, I feel clean. My mind is crystal clear, unclouded.
I remember who I am now, and fuck if I’ve missed him.
