Page 53 of Psycho Killers

Itwirl the knife in my hand, pacing restlessly in front of my parents, each breath a little easier knowing they’re restrained in their chairs and can’t hurt me anymore. My mother’s taunts echo in the room, insisting I lack the strength and bravery to follow through with my plan, and her words burrow into my mind. Is she right? Have I been hyping myself up for nothing?

I steal glances at the guys behind me, acutely aware of their unwavering watchfulness, waiting for me to muster the courage to take the step they've already taken. I've never shied away from ending a life—in fact, I craved it. The thought of them perishing at my hands consumed me, knowing my face would be the last thing they'd see as they breathed their last.

But this time feels different, and I can articulate that feeling. Have I exaggerated this quest for revenge and turned it into something bigger than it ever needed to be? For the past year, I’ve been consumed by this desire, letting their twisted actions dictate my life without fully comprehending the long-term damage it was inflicting on me. I allowed this obsession to control me, potentially setting myself up for failure. What if I can’t go through with it? What if I let them win, leaving here with them still alive?

I force those unsettling thoughts out of my mind, continuing my restless pacing while my mother savors the opportunity to undermine me. My father remains silent, the knowledge that this is the end weighing heavy in his expression. When I meet his deep brown eyes, I see resignation; he knows I possess the resolve to do what is necessary. It's clear he believes in me more than my mother does—it’s always been that way. My father was once my steadfast protector, but instead of shielding me from her, he allied with her, essentially casting me into the fray.

"What are you waiting for?" Addy suddenly appears, startling me to my core. "Please tell me you’re not fucking backing out now," she whispers angrily, her warm breath brushing my ear and sending shivers down my spine.

I halt and turn to face the guys, keeping my back to my parents to avoid revealing I’m talking to myself. At least with the guys, it’s not a big deal; they already know I’m not all there.

"Go the fuck away," I murmur, feeling her presence beside me but refusing to acknowledge her.

"No, I won’t. You’re going to see this through, Calista. After everything they’ve fucking done, there’s no way in hell I’ll let you walk away while they’re still breathing," she threatens.

It’s a compelling argument, yet my conscience wrestles with the truth. I lift my gaze and lock eyes with Five, searching his expression for something, anything, as I whisper back to Addy.

"Back the fuck off. You can't do a damn thing," I spit, my anger boiling over.

Then, unexpectedly, Five winks at me, a grin tugging at his lips. In a flash of clarity, I spin around and plunge my knife into my mother’s upper thigh. Her scream pierces the stillnessof night, waking me to the moment, but an unforeseen surge of exhilaration courses through me, and I stab again, watching blood spurt forth, painting the scene red.

"What are you doing?" My mother shrieks, her glare seething with fury.

But for once, I feel unafraid. I yank the knife from her thigh and stab it into the other one, mirroring the initial cut. Blood soaks her white pants, the stark color halting me in my tracks, entrancing me. I feel as though I’ve lost control, and no matter how desperately I want to walk away, my feet remain rooted.

"Don’t let her get in your head, Cali," Killian advises, stepping beside me and running his fingers through my tangled hair. "And I’m not just talking about your mother," he whispers knowingly, aware that Addy’s shadow looms near.

"Too late," I reply, still lost in a daze as I draw the bloodied knife from her thigh and press it against her throat.

"You won’t kill me," she hisses, venom lacing her voice.

"Don’t be so sure," I retort with a sardonic laugh, pulling a Ziploc baggie from my pocket containing a flash drive filled with evidence against my parents—the same drive I intend to leave for the authorities once they’re dead.

"You think you can outsmart me?" She hisses, her face pale, eyes wide, with an alarm that feels electric. “They’ll find you, Calista. You won’t get away with this.”

I lean closer, the tip of my knife digging lightly against her skin, enough for her to know I’m serious. “I’m not here to play games, Mother. This isn’t about getting away; it’s about my fucking freedom... from you.”

With a swift movement, I drag the blade across her throat, but I hesitate. I see the fear flickering in her eyes, the realization that this is not just a threat but a promise. The voice in my head screams at me, urging me to finish this—to see it through.But the longer I stay locked in this moment, the more I feel the gravity of my choices weighing heavily upon me.

“Cali…” My father’s voice is hoarse, and despite the turmoil churning inside me, I look over my shoulder. His eyes are wide, but they hold a different emotion than I expected: desperation. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“You think I want to fucking be here?” I snap, feeling the fragility of this situation. “You both made sure my life was hell. It’s time for you to fucking pay for it.”

Addy’s voice floats back into my mind. “Finish it, Cali. You’re so close...”

I waver, the heat of adrenaline coursing through my veins, battling against the nagging doubt. My mother’s presence has always suffocated me, and as I stand on the brink of finality, I realize my desire for revenge is entangled with a deeper need for self-liberation.

“Do it! Do it!” Dom urges, his eyes trained on mine. “End the cycle.”

His words give me strength. I can’t let fear dictate my path any longer. With renewed determination, I focus back on my mother, now gasping, the blood pooling beneath her.

“No more control. No more manipulation,” I repeat under my breath.

I go to press down harder, but then I hear Killian’s firm voice next to me. “Wait. Think about it, Cali. This could lead to something greater.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused. of my own anger. But I also feel the pull of something else: a chance to reclaim power on my own terms.

“I want to see you both rot in jail,” I declare, withdrawing the blade slightly but keeping it menacingly close to her throat. “You’re not escaping justice this time.”

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