Page 12 of Sinner

The need for revenge was strong yet right now, I was blinded with far too many other emotions.

I’d continually asked myself about the identity of the man. Since he was obviously from the gaming world, was he vying to be in this fucked-up society?

Was entrance to the special society worth killing someone for? Was it some kind of perverted hazing? I was certain I felt the savior’s presence even now. Rage pushed my actions and I stretched across the bed, flicking on the small lamp on my nightstand. The golden glow creating a moment of warmth was nothing like the iridescent light of the monster’s mask.

There was no one standing in the continuing shadows of the room.

There was no indication he’d been here. But I was certain, so much so I climbed out of bed, checking my bedroom window. The sash was locked just as it should be. That didn’t mean anything. Maybe the front door. Without any regard for safety, I rushed into the front room, flicking on every light as I headed toward the door.

It too remained locked, the impenetrable padlock clicked into position. I’d been wrong.

Wrong.

Another wave of sickness pooled in my stomach and I was forced to rush into the bathroom, dropping to my knees. The nightmare was real. There was no way I was escaping his clutches.

Not until he had what he wanted.

CHAPTER 4

Sinner

Sin.

The sheer indulgence of it was often all I needed. There’d never been any emotion to it, just stark, cold hunger that required feeding more often than most. While I’d enjoyed the dozens of methods I’d used to quench my intense cravings, none had provided more than a night’s worth of satisfaction.

Maybe that’s why I stood outside a small house in the middle of the night, peering across the street at a blind-covered window. I’d felt her needs through the games for weeks, her sadistic tendencies calling to me. I’d enjoyed her style, the way she initiated violence within the virtual world to gain points and ultimately to beat almost every opponent.

Except for me.

I’d waited until the time was right, until I’d been certain she could tolerate the kind of man I’d been forged into.

She’d acted shocked at first, uncertain why I’d killed the man in her presence. I’d done so for her, to protect her against the evil bastard who would have stripped away her dignity, defiling her in the most disgusting ways before ending her life in torture and sorrow.

The fucker had deserved to die. If we’d been in a more secure location, I would have invited her into the kill, introducing her to my methods. And she’d have enjoyed every moment of learning a craft from a master.

I’d watched the man casing his next victim inside the theater. I’d smelled his perverted needs from where I’d remained in the dark shadows of the room. What was the saying? It took one predator to recognize another?

At least my predatory needs weren’t fueled by the need to torture young women. I’d known he’d found his next victim.

My Desdemona.

Had he understood she belonged to me already? Evidently not or the bastard was simply a stupid, arrogant fuck.

I hadn’t intended on breaking the veil of silence on this night, but I’d had no choice. I’d needed to become her savior.

So I did what had to be done.

I took the life of a disgusting piece of shit to save her.

I’d rid the earth of useless scum before and I’d do it again.

But this time was even more personal than the beginning days of my foray into what some would call madness.

Yes, I’d tasted her fear, but I’d gathered a whiff of her desire the moment I killed for her.

I’d felt joyous from hearing the pitter-patter of her heart, savoring the sight of the vein pulsing in her neck. I’d almost become drunk on her perfume and the need for a single taste had become overwhelming.

Stepping outside the boundaries I’d established had been as much of a surprise to me as it had been to her. If only I’d been able to share with her the moment of disposing of his body. I could still envision what her expression would have been.

---