Page 56 of Run

It beats so slowly, even with the adrenaline from the ride, squeezing around my throat as feelings I don’t want to feel climb up my throat, suffocating me with a death grip. I’m choking on my own shortcomings, the ones father used to punish me for. I’m losing my breath to not just the wind, but to fear, hate, pain, and regret laced with conditioned need. It’s a kaleidoscope of shit swirling in me, getting louder and more insane as I shift up again, but instead of colors and patterns I can see, it’s voices, and whisperings I can hear in my skull.

Father: Useless, like you always were. You can’t even fuck her without messing it up. She should be in pieces on that counter, just like your mother.

Mother: My good boy. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t. It’s not you, it’s him. Don’t listen. Just ride.

My monster: Hahahaha! Only listen to me. Kill. Kill some more. Wipe out everything and everyone except me and you. You need me. I’m here to remind you who you are Hedeon, the destroyer.

“All of you shut the fuck up!” I yell out, my words disappearing in the wind as I careen towards the Appalachian Mountains in the distance.

I won’t make it to them, town is in the way, and as I try to direct the bike back to the uncivilized roads, it takes me on its own, with a memory of all my travels to more populated streets, down the main drag, and into the parking lot of Le Chateaux.

Father: Go in and pick one. Take her home. Fuck her and slit her throat.

Mother: No baby, no.

The silence when I shut off the bike and swing my leg off her is deafening. But not in the way when you’re in the quiet and all you hear is the tinnitus of nothing. Its deafening with the voices that still argue inside of me.

I’m twitching, cold from the ride in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants, but also from the battle inside me. I crave to do as my father tells me to do. I know how easy it is to become him, and the man that he made me before I fell for my flower. But she’s not a flower. I met her here, bent over a sawhorse, getting abused by a man she gave herself to willingly. I stole her from him in a moment of weakness that father would have beaten me for, and in doing so I awoke the voice of my mother who cries at what I’ve become.

The back door to the club bangs on the wall behind it when I kick it in. I’m lost in my head, my legs taking me to where they want to go, following the cackles of my monster and thesneering my father who team up against me. They want fresh blood, a kill, another body to throw into the pit after the dogs have their fill. It’s my normal, what I’m used to, what I am deep inside, even though now I don’t want to do it. I will though if it quiets them down, appeases them until I can figure out what to do with how I feel.

“H?” Samantha’s voice calls out to me as I storm past the open entrance to her office.

I walk backwards the few steps and look in at her as she sits behind her desk, the hook where my mask used to hang above her not empty but graced with the helmet I left on her couch the night I took my Lily from here. It hangs like a beacon, calling to me to throw it on, concealing who I am, but it would only cover my face and the dark brown eyes in my head that mirror my father’s. My tattoos, an obvious giveaway to anyone here are on full view. They’re going to know who I am, who’s coming for them, and in a way, that’s what I desire.

I want to smell the fear on them, watch their eyes grow large in apprehension when I enter the main part of the establishment. I want them to fucking bow down to me and offer themselves up as my next sacrifice.

“You look like shit.” She spits at me, standing up behind her desk, grabbing for my arm as I pull down the helmet, digging her long black nails into my flesh.

“So do you.” I hiss at her, even though it’s a lie. She’s gorgeous and always will be, even in death.

She would make a stunning addition to the collection in my pit, but I need her. She’s my supplier. She doesn’t deal me drugs, no, she deals me the lambs that I slaughter. I need heralive, just like I need Kendra at work even though the feel of my blades slicing her skin would be so fucking orgasmic.

“Fuck you.”

“Been there, done that.” I say, grabbing her by the chin and pulling her face to mine and licking up her cheek like a fucking animal. “You still taste like sin. Maybe one day I’ll fuck you again.”

“You’re out of your goddamned mind.” She snarls at me, yanking herself from my grasp.

“If you only knew.” I cackle like a madman, tossing her back into her chair where she lands with a grunted “oomph”.

“Don’t ruin my club, asshole.” She calls out to me, as I slide on my helmet and snap the visor shut, leaving her to do her work as she curses over knowing that her membership number is about to go down by one.

Chapter Thirty-One

“Help!” The busty blonde screams into my palm. “Help!”

“Will you shut the fuck up.” I grunt, squeezing my hand harder over her filthy fucking mouth, blocking her breath with a pinch of my thumb over her nose. “Can’t breathe, can’t scream.”

The ride home with her behind me on the bike, with her slender arms wrapped around my bare waist should have been fun, but her incessant talking, oh my God it was annoying as hell. Chasing her through the maze and cutting her up is going to be so satisfying.

“Babies! Daddy’s home.” I laugh as the dogs trot across the lawn, meeting us at the front gate that closes behind us with a clattering bang like that of a prison cell door, sealing her death row sentence. “? ???? ?????.” I say, shooing them back to their cabin.

I want the chase right now, and they can wait their turn.

I wait until they are out of sight before I take my hand from her mouth and lift her up over my shoulder. Swatting her ass and laughing at her cries for help, I pull off her high heeled shoes so she has at least a chance to get a little bit ahead of me. Running in heels is hard, and she needs a little hope that she just might have a chance of escaping.

“Run.” I tell her, setting her down on her feet, watching her look me up and down as she pants in fear and disgust,

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