The sound of footsteps behind me breaks the silence.
Ooooh.
Hello, destiny.
They’re heavy, but unhurried.
Confident.
Crunching over crushed bones and glitter confetti like a runway walk from hell.
We all turn, andwould ya look at that?—
Mr. Fur-Coat-and-Fuck-Me-Eyes himself, strolling into the center of our blood-slicked temple like he owns the place.
He’s still got blood on his jaw. Still shirtless beneath that pelt like he’s some dark forest god who wandered in from the mountains of murder. And those eyes?
Oh, baby.They don’t blink.
He stops just a few feet away.
No words yet. Just a look.
Like we already know each other.
Like we’ve all danced naked around the same fire, even if tonight’s the first time we met.
Lux speaks first. “I see you survived the night.”
The guy smirks. “Of course I did.”
“Who are you?” Lux asks, stepping forward. “Where are you from?”
The stranger shrugs, mouth curling up. His voice is low, smooth, just a hint of an accent curling around the syllables like smoke.
“Names Raiden,” he says. “And I travelled all the way here from Berlin. After seeing glimpses of your shows on TikTok, I knew I had to check it out, see if it was all real, or just for show.”
“And?” Bjorn asks, keeping his tone cool, and stern like the fucking Norse god he is.
Raiden’s grin only widens, his split tongue kissing his teeth while he holds Bjorn’s gaze. “Well, I think I found exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
Johnny snorts behind me. “Berlin, huh? They make ‘em kinky and bloody over there, too?”
Raiden chuckles. “Not like this, unfortunately. Not yet, anyway.”
There’s a beat. A pause that isn’t awkward just… loaded. Like we’re all silently measuring the weight of our own sickness. Seeing it mirrored back in someone new.
“We saw you tonight. You didn’t flinch,” Indie says, arms crossed over her corset. “You liked it. The pleasure in your eyes, it was real, you didn’t fake it.”
Raiden looks her straight in the eye. “Didn’t have to. I didn’t want to miss a single second of it. I’ve been searching for something like this. People like this.”
“You mean freaks,” I giggle, twirling a dried intestine around my finger. “You’re sayin’ we’re your kinda circus freaks.”
He grins wider. “Exactly.”
Bjorn tilts his head, slow and reverent. “After what we all saw tonight, I think the gods would say you’re one of us.”
Raiden nods once. “I’d have to agree, and I’m hoping, you’ll let me join in. I want to be a part of this” —he gestures to our group— “I want to watch people succumb to their dark twisted desires, and revel in their pain and pleasure while they do it.”
