Page 4 of Wicked Revenge

Granted, it was a crimson smile that I carved into his throat. I find it fucking ironic that this limp dick motherfucker got off on my screams when he was raping me, and now it's me getting off on how beautifully he screamed for me.

Fuck. My pussy pulses at the memory. I run my hand down my breast and pull at my nipples before finally giving in to the need surging through my body and finding my swollen little clit.

An orgasm before breakfast? Yes, please.

The dark images fill my mind– my latest prey bleeding out from his gaping throat. His severed cock stuffed into his mouth with my mark on his chest. My orgasm rushes to its peak before I can even get started.

My other hand moves lower, circling my entrance before plunging two fingers into myself quickly. My needy cunt clenches around my fingers and the release makes my knees weak. I lean against the shower wall to steady myself, panting hard. My head is light and fuzzy as I come down from the high.

Fucking hell.

Only a few seconds pass before the familiar emotions of shame and guilt start to seep into my mind. They steal the high of my orgasm and leave me feeling like something is wrong with me.

Fundamentally, I know something is broken deep inside of me when killing someone turns me on. I know that. Still, I can’t find any fucks to give about it. They did this to me. They broke me beyond repair. I make no apologies for how I chose to rebuild myself from the broken pieces I was left with.

I shove the unwelcome feelings down in the same place where I keep the nightmares of the past, they’re a problem for future me. I’ll deal with the guilt over my dark desires after I get my revenge. It’s not like I can act on them right now.

I can’t explain my desires. Just that something inside of me is broken, and sometimes, it consumes me. I’m not normal anymore. I am the hunter. I stalk my prey, taunt them, and kill them. I get off on it. I don’t think men are ever going to be a part of my future, sexually or otherwise. I wouldn’t know how to feel safe with a man in that way. This is just how it's going to be.

***

Mark number four stands with his back to the dumpster behind the Twisted Tavern.

The blonde on her knees cries out as he wraps his hand around her long curls and thrusts into her throat like a madman.

This fucker.

I’d love to slash his throat just before he releases into hers but now is not the time. I have to stick to the plan.

Besides, from what I can tell, this poor girl came out back with him on her own. I doubt she knew what she was getting into, and I highly doubt she will be back for seconds.

So for now, I just watch and wait.

If he wasn’t so blinded by his need to get his cock sucked, he might have noticed my presence, hiding in the shadows of this narrow alley. My black hood conceals me though, and my fiery red locks are tucked inside. I don’t want them to be seen yet. The unnatural red tone is highly memorable.

I want him to feel as if his every move is being watched. To wonder what is coming for him. It won’t be long until every time he opens his eyes, he’ll feel mine burrowing beneath his wretched skin.

This part is easy, but it’s also time-consuming. Learning the routine of my prey is something that helps me later on, but in moments like this, it annoys me. I never wanted to see his cock again until I detached it from his body, much less when he is using it to exert his power and control over another victim.

I remember being in her position. I remember everything each of the Kingsmen ever did to me. I used it to create my list and determine the order of their deaths, deciding to start with the ones who hurt me least. The worst of them will see the deaths of those before them and know theirs are coming.

Snow and her Huntsmen taught me the art of stalking your prey and fueling their fear before you take their lives. I met Aspen Snow when I first escaped Shadow Forest two years ago.

I didn’t know where I was going, but when I stumbled upon her sanctuary in White Harbor, she took one look at my bruised and battered body, riddled with scars, inside and out, and took me in. Snow and her men helped me heal and grieve. When I was ready, she helped me become the hunter.

It wasn’t easy, trusting her men at first. The only men I had ever been exposed to were the ones who hurt me daily for three years. I moved through their sanctuary like a timid little mouse at first. My grief was all-consuming, and it took a lot of time and reassurance for me to be comfortable in their presence.

Jasper was the first one to break me out of my shell. He made my first dagger and gave it to me to protect myself. When I was comfortable enough, I asked him to show me how to use it. He taught me all the different creative ways to kill a man. That was the very beginning of my training.

Over time, Ronan taught me how to be confident in myself and stop being a victim. He said if I continued to feel sorry for myself and cower away from potential danger, I would never be able to get my revenge.

He’s a big guy, with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. I was terrified of him at first. He worked with me to build my confidence around men who could hurt me, who would use my tiny size to their advantage to overpower me. The day I finally took his big ass down to the mat is a day I will never forget.

Dax was the one to teach me how to go unnoticed. He taught me the art of the hunt, stalking my prey and drawing out their fear before going in for the kill. He also gave me Nightshade, my bike. It is matte black with red accents. He said it had to have my signature red on it, without it standing out too much of course. He taught me to move through a city like a shadow on her.

My heart aches as I remember those first few months with the Huntsman and Aspen. They became my family in every way possible. The only family I have left now. They offered to come with me when I came back, but their people needed them there.

The world doesn’t just stop being cruel. People suffer every single day like I did. At the hands of men like the Monster. The work Aspen and her men are doing is too important to delay. I promised I would let them know if I needed them, and I will, but I don’t think I’ll need to.

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