I reached forward, wrapping my hand around his throat forcefully, but not enough to cut off his airway. “Enough with the theatrics.” I sighed, cracking my neck in an ironic display of theatrical. “Eighteen years ago, you took what wasn’t yours to take. You raped a girl with your friends and proceeded to let your little slut of a girlfriend hurt her.” My gaze slid over to Marcella, who was still sleeping peacefully, not seeming to realize the danger her husband was in.
Glancing back at Fabian, I leaned in closer—so close I could feel his rancid breath against my lips. “Savannah was pregnant. You and your friends took that away from her. So, to level the playing field, I’m going to destroy your entire fucking family. First, I’m going to kill you. Then, I’m going to tell Ember what a vile piece of shit you and your wife were. After that, I’m going to sink into your oldest daughter’s virgin pussy and bathe in the screams of pain she delivers. I’m going to make your wife watch, so she knows how it feels to be so goddamn helpless. Once that’s done and over with, I’m going to kill Isobella—a life for a life and all that. Feel me?”
I’d been so lost in my own enraged monologue, that I’d almost forgotten about the man lying helplessly in bed. But I wasn’t finished.
“Your wife will die after that, and last but certainly not fucking least, I’m going to fuck Ember one more time before I kill her too.”
I liked that plan. They’d get to feel the excruciating pain of losing the baby in the house, and of losing the little boy fronting as the man of the house. Marcella would get to watch her daughter be violated, and Ember would get to watch her favorite parent die.
Fabian couldn’t speak of course, but I already had a hunch about what he’d say if he could. He’d tell me to go to Hell, that I was crazy, he’d probably start chanting some biblical incantationthat wouldn’t work, tell me to stay away from his daughters—the usual shit they all did. They still all died in the end.
Straightening my posture, I sent the piece of shit one last wicked smile before taking a deep breath. The shadows warmed my skin instantly as I urged the power to swell within them, molding them exactly how I wanted them to be and what I wanted them to do.
And then I slowly pushed them into Fabian.
Liquid lava filled his veins, the temperature rising and rising at a slow and steady pace. The sweat was glistening across his skin now, his ball sweat filling the room. I choked back a gag and snarled. I needed to take care of that first.
Directing my shadows to his most intimate area, I flicked my wrist, watching in fascination as his cock stretched and stretched.
Fabian’s muffled cries filled the room, the sweat running down his face more prominently now.
The first tear of the skin would have made anyone scream but considering I didn’t wat Fabian waking the entire house up, I made sure he couldn’t. I hummed the same melody I’d sang to him, tugging and tugging until blood started spilling down his length and coating his groin. Once the last shred of skin and cartilage was cut, his dick fell over, rolling across his thigh.
The poor man was so pale, I feared he might just pass out.
I wanted him awake for this, but it wouldn’t put a damper in my plans if he did fall unconscious.
A malevolent grin stretched across my face, adrenaline pulsing through my veins at the glorious sight before me. He misused his dick to rape women and to cheat on his wife. Even if he lived, which he wouldn’t, he’d never be able to weaponize sex again.
Fabian’s entire body was trembling with a mixture of fear, adrenaline, and desperation. And I fucking reveled in it.
“Any last words?” I asked. When he didn’t respond—because he couldn’t—I added, “Oh. That’s right. Well, I’m sure it wasn’t important anyway.”
I pushed more shadows through his body until his entire skin burned a bright red, blood dripping from his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. The pressure became too much for his body, one of his eyeballs popping out of the socket and dangling from the veins it was connected to. It was fucking disgusting. I loved it.
His body jerked and twitched, until finally, he went completely still.
One down, three to go.
Chapter Seven
Screams penetrated the air, jolting me from the deep slumber I’d been in. My heart thrashed wildly in my chest as my mind spun in confusion. It felt like I’d barely gotten a lick of sleep, though I knew it wasn’t true. I had the most … interesting dream. The wetness between my thighs made it feel real, but I knew that wasn’t possible.
My mother’s choked sobs echoed through the house, forcing me into action. Rolling out of bed, I wobbled on my feet for a moment, still trying to force my mind to work the way I needed it to.
As soon as my vision started piecing itself together, I sucked in a deep breath. But every muscle in my body locked up, fear pummeling me right where I stood as I took in the disaster that had become my bedroom.
Red paint, or maybe it was blood, covered an entire wall—a message.
Ask your mother about Savannah Emmerson.
A frown tugged at my lips. The woman who lived at the end of the cul-de-sac? Why would mom know anything about her?
I was asking the wrong questions, but a part of me was too scared to leave the safety of my own room.
Who left this message?
What did they want?
