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The man’s life slips away in a series of shudders, his body jerking one last time before going still. But Tatum isn’t done. She grabs the knife from my hand, her fingers curling around the hilt with an eager desperation, and she drives it into his chest, again and again, each thrust of the blade punctuated by her breathless laughter.
His blood splashes across her face, her chest, soaking her hair, and she’s reveling in it, savoring every moment as she rips him apart, her hands a blur of motion. The blade sinks into his heart one final time, and she twists it, grinding it into the bone, before finally pulling back, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and wild.
She looks up at me, her breath ragged, her body trembling with the adrenaline, and she’s never looked more beautiful. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ll ever need, and as I watch her there, bathed in the blood of the man who thought he could take her from me, I know she’s mine. Completely, utterly mine.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
7
Sueco - Drama Queen
Blood drips from my fingertips, warm and sticky, staining my skin with the proof of what we just did. Of what I just did. My heart pounds in my chest, not from fear or guilt, but from the pure, unfiltered rush that comes with ending a life. The drugs pulse through my veins, amplifying every sensation, every thought. I feel alive, free in a way I can’t explain. The weight of the world has lifted, replaced by something darker and intoxicating.
I glance at Caius, and find him watching me. His eyes burning with the same fire that’s coursing through my body. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it only makes me want him more. The way he’s staring at me like he’s about to devour me whole, does something to me. It adds to the heat building between my thighs. My breath catches, and I realize I’m trembling—not from fear. From anticipation.
The blood on my hands and clothes feels like a second skin, binding us together in this twisted moment. It’s warm and slippery, and I can’t help but run my fingers through it, savoring the feeling. The coppery scent fills the air, mingling with the stench of the alley, but I don’t care. All I can focus on is Caius, on the way he’s moving toward me with eyes filled with that carnal hunger that we seem to share for each other.
I want him. I need him. Right here, right now.
He grabs me, rough and demanding, but I don’t resist. I never do anymore. His hands are on me, pulling me along before he turns me and forces me to lean over on to the dumpster. The cold metal presses against my stomach. The body of the man we just killed lies a few feet away, forgotten in the heat of the moment, but his blood still coats us, still connects us.
Caius doesn’t hesitate and doesn’t ask if I’m okay. He knows I am. He knows this is exactly what I want, what I need. He bunches my blood-soaked dress up and pulls my panties to the side. My eyes find their way back to the lifeless man a few feet away. Behind me, I can hear Caius fumbling with his belt as my eyes lock with the empty, voidless eyes of our victim. Something inside me gets a thrill out of knowing I did that. It’s sick and fucked up, and yet I can’t help but smile as the need for release grows while I look at what I’ve done. Caius finally frees his cock and spits in his hand before slowly stroking himself as he lines himself up.
Looking over my shoulder, I watch. My body humming with anticipation as I watch his hand glide over his cock. Spreading the blood of our victim and his saliva along his length. He smirks at me. His free hand finds it’s way to my hair as he threads his fingers through it and tugs on the roots.
Without warning, he slams into me, and the world disappears. It’s just us—just the two of us lost in the darkness, the madness, the need. The blood between us makes everything slick, dirty, perfect. It’s raw and real, and it’s everything I crave.
Because I’m sick. I’m fucked up, just like him.
“Oh fuck,” I cry out. My voice echoes off the empty alley around us. Gripping the dumpster, I hold on tightly as Caius fucks me. His hold on my hair tightens while his free hand grips my hip, holding me down. Forcing me to take every fucking inch of him.
Caius pulls my head back, bringing his mouth mere inches from my ear, “Look at what you’ve done, little lunatic. Look at the carnage you have created. I always knew you were a monster like me,” he whispers. His breath is laced with tequila and a darkness that sends a chill down my spine and has my lips pulling into a smile. I can feel him moving inside me, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge, every sound he makes driving me wild. I press back against him, meeting him, needing him to go harder, faster. The drugs make everything more intense and more vivid, and I’m drowning in it, loving every second.
“Hard, Caius. Please,” I beg. “Fuck me harder.”
“Such a filthy little slut mommy and daddy raised,” he groans, “You like how your brother's cock feels inside you, don’t you, Tatum. You like that it’s me and only me who can do it for you. Make you feel this fucking good,”
He’s right. I do. Right now, I don’t give a fuck that we were raised together. That we spent our childhood as siblings with a never-ending rivalry that I never understood. Right now, all I care about is his cock and how he knows how to hit every fucking spot I need him to hit.
He releases his hold on my hair and grips my hips with both his hands. His fingers are digging into my blood-slicked flesh so hard I know there’ll be bruises tomorrow. But I don’t care. I want the marks. I want the reminder of this moment, of him. I’m close, so close, and I can tell he is, too. The sounds of our bodies, the filthy alley, the blood—it’s all too much, and I feel myself shatter, my release crashing over me in waves.
He follows, his grip tightening as he spills inside me, and I collapse against the dumpster, spent and breathless but completely satisfied. Caius doesn’t move for a moment, just stays there, inside me, his breath hot against my neck. When he finally does pull away, I turn to look at him, and the expression on his face nearly takes my breath away.
Caius always hated me. Or at least that’s what I thought. He always looked at me like I was disgusting. A vile object in his life that he couldn't wait to be rid of, and I didn’t always blame him. Especially after how hard our parents were on him. But right now, there's no sign of that hatred. Right now, he’s looking at me like I’m everything, like I’m his world, and in this moment, I know I am. We’re both covered in blood in the aftermath of what we just did, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is us.
I smile, and he smiles back, that twisted, dangerous smile that makes my heart race. This is what I live for. This is who I am.
The world is quieter in the early morning, just before dawn. I sit in the corner of Caius’s room, knees drawn to my chest, staring at the shadows that stretch across the floor. The silence should be comforting, but it isn’t. It’s heavy, oppressive, filled with thoughts I don’t want to face, questions I’m too afraid to ask.
Caius is still asleep, his breath steady and even, his arm draped possessively over where I usually lie. He’s a light sleeper, always alert, always ready for whatever threat might come our way. But now, in this moment, he’s vulnerable, and I can’t help but wonder if he ever feels the same uncertainty gnawing at me.
I used to think I was strong and resilient. I used to think I could handle anything that came my way. But now… now I’m not so sure. I feel like I’m unraveling, like the person I used to be is slipping away, replaced by someone I barely recognize. Someone darker. Someone who did things last night that I never imagined I’d be capable of.
The memory of the blood on my hands, the sound of the knife slicing through flesh, haunts me. I did that. I helped take a life because Caius asked me to because I wanted to prove to him that I was his. But what does that make me now? A killer? A monster? Or just another puppet in Caius’s twisted game?
I glance over at him, my heart constricting with a mix of fear and longing. He’s everything to me, my world, my anchor in the chaos surrounding us. But he’s also the one pulling me deeper into this darkness, dragging me further away from the person I used to be. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I can stop him.
I don’t even know if I want to.
