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“Get out of here, Merrick, and fix this. Don’t fuck up your one chance of actual happiness.” Darla disappears after that.
Frustrating old bat.
She’s right though. Fuck, I hate it. Reaching my hands up to my hair, I grab a bunch of it and pull it. Hard.
It helps me focus. It keeps intrusive thoughts at bay and I don’t want to deal with them yet.
Fuck.
It’s not working. Goddammit.
I walk over to the family mausoleum and run my fingers against the cold iron door. I haven’t been inside since I died.
I grab the handle and turn the knob, hearing the click of the latch. Pushing the heavy door open, I go inside. The space is cold and damp, and the air feels stale. Normally I would go through the walls of places, but this seems more significant. I’m feeling sentimental tonight.
It’s dark. Cement tombs line the walls on either side of me. Reaching out, my hands brush against them.
My body is in the one to the left. It doesn’t feel like thirty years.
Every memory feels like this all happened recently. Time has escaped me.
Taking in my surroundings, I start to picture what it will look like in here in a few days. Fallon will be in here taking her crown.
The mental image of Joanie’s blood coating the floor is already satisfying. I can’t wait for the main event.
A million other thoughts are riddling me.
There’s only one thing left to do.
I’ve already driven myself off a bridge, so that’s not an option.
Chapter20
Merrick
Her lips are slightly parted as her chest slowly rises with each breath.
Fallon is in her sleep shorts and tee with her right hand slightly under the waistband and her blankets bunched at her feet.
Tilting my head, it makes me wonder what she is thinking?
When I used to sleep, it only meant one thing.
Maybe she’s dreaming of my giant cock impaling her tight cunt. Maybe not, but what other reason could she have to sleep like this?
Whatever.
Not that my curiosity matters, anyway.
Grabbing my switchblade from my pants pocket, I flip it open and place the cool metal blade between my teeth, and my lips close against it.
Then, placing one knee on the edge of her bed, I let it get used to my weight so as not to alert her. Once I’m sure I haven’t woken her, I bring my other knee up and rest it on the mattress.
Leaning forward, I place both hands down on either side of her body. I watch her breathing, and it still hasn’t changed. Her chest continues to rise in the same steady rhythm.
Grabbing the blade out of my mouth, I bring it to her sleep shorts. The blade is sharp. I’ve kept it in pristine condition, what I am about to do will require minimal effort.
Moving slowly, I place the tip of the blade against the crotch of her shorts and move it up the seam. As I slice open her shorts, I focus on her face. Watching for any sudden movements or signs that she was waking up. My blade slices through the thin fabric like butter. The room fills with the scent of Fallon, my desperate little slut.
