Because of this our doctrine was changing to something twice as vile as before. The acolytes being trained under Lucifuge’s mantra were not like anything I had ever seen. The Badlands would be painted red before this was over.
So I did not want him back. I did not miss him or his deceitful touch. I wanted him down on his knees begging for forgiveness before I took his still beating heart from his goddamned chest.
Shaking my head as if it would temporarily dispel all thoughts of him, I stood from the bed and made my way back into the bathroom, fluffing the ends of my hair with the towel as I went.
I had zero desire to venture out into a full blown Venom party, because that sounded like a nightmare, so I planned to just lay around until Addy or Maliki came to get me. Feet padding over cool slated floor, I went to the vanity and sat the towel to the side. Placing my hands flat on the plain granite countertop, I took a deep breath and boldly looked at myself in the mirror.
Nothing spectacular stood out about me. I had long dark hair the same shade as my father’s, light brown eyes like my mother. Darkly shaded tats, some of them hiding scars I’d accumulated throughout my teen years.
You wouldn’t look at me and see someone that had the mind of a hurricane and a heart made of broken glass. I didn’t know how to make someone understand my chaos was not seeking peace, but craving destruction.
I couldn’t undo the scars, or piece back together what had fallen apart. Stuck in a prison made of pain, all I could was stare death in the eyes.
In the dim lighting of some strange bathroom it was easy to see what I never wanted, or rather who. My heart beat accelerated, my breathing began to fluctuate, fingers curled into granite but I did not look away.
I stared and I stared until I accepted the truth staring back at me. Apportens Mortis, the tattoo on the inside of my arm. I was my father’s daughter.
I was death.
The prickling of my skin alerted me I wasn’t alone before I opened my eyes. His scent invaded my lungs on my next inhalation but even without it I somehow knew it was him in the room with me.
My skin was clammy, nipples hard beneath one of his shirts I had stolen from a drawer. Rolling from my side to my back, I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, tugging the shirt down over them. He’d turned the main light off, leaving the dim one in his bathroom on.
Naked from the waist up, he leaned against the dresser; both arms lazily crossed over his chest and a heavy stare aimed at me.
I met it head on and swallowed.
“Having a good dream?” His deep gravelly voice sent heat straight to the place that definitely needed no more stimulation.
“I don’t remember,” I lied. No way in hell was I fessing up to what I was in the middle of inside my head. This wasn’t as bad as nightmares, but it was twice more humiliating. My pussy was slick; aching for the cock I’d just had in my mouth in a dream I shouldn’t of been having. It was worse that I’d backed him into the same wall Buddy’s brain was splattered on before dropping to my knees.
“You don’t remember,” he mused, stroking a finger over his lips. “So if I were to spread those sweet thighs of yours apart right now, what would I find?”
Hearing the party still going strong, if not stronger, I clamped my legs together and leveled him with my best poker face.
“You’d find nothing. What are you even doing in here?”
“What am I doing in my own bedroom?”
“Why aren’t you out there with them?”
“Because I want to be with you.” He shifted and stood up straight, grabbing the metal canteen in the process. “You remember what I said to you after I killed Buddy?”
How could I forget? I was still trying to decipher the meaning of exactly what he meant. Denial had me unable to believe he was referring to me.
“What do you want Malik?”
He took a healthy drink of whatever was in the canteen and then slammed it down.
“I want to wrap my hands around your throat and fuck you until the only thing you know is my name, and there’s a permanent imprint of my dick branded inside your pussy.”
I bit the inside of my lip and sat up a little higher, placing my back against his headboard.
“What I want is this stunning fucking brunette with a great ass, a gorgeous smile, and harbors the kind of demons that make me want to get down on my knees and worship her like the goddess she is.”
He began to slowly creep forward, staring like he was about to devour every morsel of me. His words sounded too good to be true.
Why would someone like him want the living dead girl that was me? I knew I would only get worse. I was okay with death finding a home inside me and carrying out her demands. Further reasoning why he deserved someone stable and not so much of a deranged mess.