Page 64 of Hide Me Darling

I take the bat and twirl it in my hand, feeling the weight of it. Cain steps aside and suddenly I'm standing in front of Rye, wondering what I'm doing. But deep down I know, the darkness inside me knows what to do, what I want to do.

For the first time in my life, I slowly loosen the tight reigns I have on it inside my mind. I can almost feel the moment everything shifts. The lines between right and wrong are blurred, and a sense of injustice takes over. I let it flood my veins as I inhale.

Abel steps up behind me, his mask brushing against the side of my face as he whispers in my ear, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “You know you want to, little shadow. Just imagine how good it will feel, getting justice for all those women finally. Have you ever used that pretty knife of yours to cut someone open?”

My breath catches and my heart races in my chest. There is a memory that is just out of reach, but it disappears again as Abel runs a hand down the arm holding the bat. He adjusts my grip until I am ready to swing, turning my body until I’m positioned exactly how he wants me.

“It’s a beautiful and deadly weapon, like the woman who wields it. I love watching how easily it slices through the layers of flesh, how quickly the blood spills from the wound.” A soft caress on my cheek has me closing my eyes for a brief moment, wondering if I can actually do this.

“It’s different with you though, my darling girl. I could spend hours watching how the crimson beads on your pale skin. I would happily trace the path of a single blood drop with my tongue,” he continues, his voice a dark promise that has me panting in response to the imagery he’s painting in my mind. I can almost imagine his tongue on me. I would gladly spill a million drops of blood if he traced every single one.

With that realization, any doubts of if I could do this or not disappears.

His hands continue to brush against me as he makes tiny adjustments to the way I’m standing, each movement has my body responding, growing hot and needy. I’m practically panting for him and I can feel how much he needs me too.

“The bat isn’t as sophisticated as a knife, it’s not made for pleasure. It’s built for pain, for tearing flesh from the bone. There is nothing elegant about the damage you can inflict upon someone with a weapon like this. But that darkness inside you, it needs violence, it feeds on it, it needs to hurt those who hurt others. Embrace that part of yourself, Hydessa, become our dark queen.”

Looking Rye in the eyes, I see the terror. But what has me tightening my grip is that I can see without a doubt he did exactly what Cain and Abel accused him of.

Without hesitancy, I swing the bat. There’s no turning back now.

Chapter 31

Hydessa

Even with the gag, Rye still manages to let out a high-pitched squeal as the bat makes contact with the side of his body. My rage takes over as I remember each and every one of the women I now know he killed. The part of me that I tried to bury deep inside, the darkness that I fought so hard to suppress, it’s no longer something I can ignore. I can feel it taking control, pushing me to exact vengeance for all the pain and suffering he's caused.

The barbed wire wrapped around the bat catches on his shirt, and the skin beneath it, but the momentum of my swing tears it free, leaving deep, jagged gashes. Rye's muffled cries grow louder, the sound almost inhuman, as I prepare for another strike. Each scream only fuels the fire inside me.

I think of Hannah, and how he tore her clothes so violently. Then, Rachel; her body was so bruised it was like he used her as a punching bag before he overdosed her. Cindy’s lips were twisted in pain, even in death. And lastly, Olivia. The one that made me lose my mind on the case. I had never seen a woman so violated, as if pure hate itself came out of another being just to assault her.

I lost sleep and even had to see the department psychologist to work past her death, especially after the case was deemed cold. I would dream at night of finding a way to bring them justice and now I finally can. They had given that to me.

I swing again, and again, each hit more brutal than the last. The room fills with the sickening sounds of the bat meeting flesh, of Rye's muffled screams, and the raw power of my anger unleashed.

Blood now sprays with each impact, splattering across my face and clothes. I feel the warmth of it, the sticky wetness, and it only drives me further into my frenzy. My vision blurs with tears of rage, but I don't stop. I can't stop. Not until he feels a fraction of the pain he's inflicted. Not until the darkness within me has been satisfied. It’s almost as if it whispers to me in my head.

Finally.

The bat catches his ribs this time, and I hear the unmistakable crack of bone. Rye's body convulses, his eyes wide and terrified. And I wonder if he enjoyed the terror in his victims’ gaze. I wonder if he ever stopped to think about them and how he robbed others of their futures. I think of their families, forever broken by his cruelty.

Rye's struggles weaken, his cries becoming more pitiful, but I don't relent. Not yet. The darkness inside me demands more, cries out for blood and retribution. Eventually, when my arms can no longer hold the weapon up, I take a step back, panting, the bat slipping from my grasp and clattering to the floor. Rye hangs from the chains, crumpled, a broken, bloody mess, barely recognizable. His eyes are glazed over, empty. Just like all his victims.

The room is eerily silent now, the only sound is my ragged breathing. Blood drips from the body, forming a dark pool on the floor. I can feel it on my skin, the metallic smell filling my senses. The adrenaline is still pumping through me, my heart racing in my chest.

I reach up with bloodstained hands to wipe at my face, but I'm startled when someone steps up behind me, his hands stopping mine.

"Don't, you look so fucking beautiful," Abel says, his hands running down the side of my dress, dragging it up my body until he can touch my skin unhindered. "Did that turn you on, little shadow? Are you wet with more than just that blood?" His fingers make their way beneath my bikini. I can’t help but moan when they slide through my wet folds.

Abel thrusts two fingers inside of me, his other hand coming up to wrap around my throat and hold me in place just as he always does. It should be strange that it’s now feeling like a comfort to be collared by him.

I watch as Cain moves toward the body, checking for a pulse before resting the bat in his hand against the cave wall. He turns back to watch as Abel continues to thrust his fingers into my pussy, the red neon of his mask not as bright in the light but still sinister. Abel presses and swirls his thumb against my clit, making me whimper. In the silence of the cave, you can hear how wet I am, how turned on the scene here made me.

Cain takes a step toward me and away from the body, his head tilting as he watches us. "Is my good little slut needy for my cock?" he asks.

Abel's fingers move faster, pushing me to the edge. His grip on my throat tightens just enough to send a thrill through me, intensifying every sensation. I can barely think, my mind consumed by the mix of lust and the adrenaline still coursing through my veins from the violent act I just committed. My body trembles, caught between the primal need for release and the raw power of my anger.

"Yes," I gasp, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Please, Cain."

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