Page 23 of Kortlek

A lazy smile is on my face.

“Well, well, well,’’ I chuckle, shaking my head. “Someone’s scared, eh?”

My eyes skim over his pathetic face and then locate the wound. It’s on his side, though by the looks of it, the bullet barely grazed him. There’s no need for him to be whimpering in pain. With the barrel of my gun, I press into the wound, watching his face morph into twisted agony.

A shiver of pure thrill runs down my body when he cries out in pain, eyes snapping shut for a moment. I swallow thickly, then grip his throat roughly. The number on his shirt is one, which makes my eyes narrow.

Arlo always marks them from worst to least bad, so to speak. Number one means worst of the worst, and I don’t have to ask for his name to know who he is. Nathan Wright, who bribed the judge into a lighter sentence. His family is fairly influential in that part of the country, so he managed to pay his way out of prison.

He was found guilty of assaulting four women in a span of four months, the youngest being fifteen years old. And judging by the way he’s looking at me, he knows that I know. He knows he’s fucked up and that no amount of bribing will get him out of this situation.

He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“If you’re going to beg, don’t.’’ I can see him tremble. “I’m not going to go easy on you. Unfortunately, I only have a knife and a gun, so cutting off your limbs isn’t possible. However, I can make it just as painful.’’

“Please.’’

Anger rises inside me, and I use the back of the head of the gun to hit the side of his face. He falls back down, and I click my tongue to the roof of my mouth, already annoyed with the motherfucker.

“Can you not listen? I told you not to fucking beg!”

I pull out the knife, then stop listening to his desperate pleas. I’m not sure what I’m doing; I’m just allowing my body to completely take over. He tries to fight it, but once I break his wrist, he focuses on that pain instead of trying to push me off him.

I’m not a small man.

Even if he weren’t injured, the chances of successfully pushing me off his body would be zero.

I tear open his shirt, cutting his flesh. At first, the wounds are superficial, only enough to make him bleed. But why stop there? No, I’m too bloodthirsty to let him off the hook so easily. All of the knives were sharpened to perfection prior to the games, so slicing inside his body is fairly easy.

He’s writhing beneath me, and I use my knee, pressing it against his crotch to keep him down. One of his wrists is broken, and the other one is too weak, trembling, to push me off. With a grin that he cannot see under the mask, I gash inside his chest and pull the knife downward to his stomach.

I’m not sure when he dies. All I know is that it hurts, for sure. I don’t stop, even after I see his organs. If anything, I destroy every single one, especially the motherfucker’s heart. Sadly, by then he’s long dead, but I know that it was a painful death.

Just what he deserves.

By the time I’m done with him, the white shirt is soaked with his blood. My breathing is heavy, and I toss the knife aside, sitting down. My eyes close for a couple of minutes, letting me enjoy the bliss of his blood on my hands.

My ears perk when I hear Aria’s manic laughter, and immediately, I’m on my feet. I grab the knife, tuck it behind my back alongside the gun, and make my way toward the sound. Meanwhile, no one seems to be around.

Arlo and Blair must be having the time of their lives somewhere in the forest, and somehow, while walking toward where Aria is, I have a feeling that when I saw her killing that man on camera,it will not be able to compare to what she’s doing now.

Once I reach her, my theory is proven right.

I stand in the shadows, observing her silently.

Even with her dark clothes, I can tell that they’re completely soaked in blood. She’s moving in a frenzy, and that alone makes my cock rock hard.

But this scene… it’s something I’ll never be able to forget. It’s going to remain forever engraved in my mind, like the sweetest sin that Aria represents. She’s all I want, all I’m craving. Just like she’s craving more blood, I’m craving to fuck her while she’s soaked in it.

My hand moves before I can stop it. My zipper makes no noise as I pull it down, slowly pulling my cock out. I wrap my hand around the base, giving it a tight squeeze, the precum dripping onto my palm. Fuck, I don’t remember the last time I was this hard.

Aria is nearby. There’s a woman dead next to her, but that’s not what my focus is on. One of the prey requested a machete as their weapon. Right now, Aria is using it to absolutely destroy the fucker’s body.

A low groan slips from me as I tug on my cock, moving my hand up and down. I’m no one-minute man, but this scene alone is enough to make me cum within a second.

The man… is unrecognizable. The slashes and wounds on him are gruesome. Aria isn’t stopping. She isn’t even noticing me. She continues to bash in his skull with the machete, the blade entirely covered in a crimson shade, the liquid dripping.

The hottest thing?

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