Page 22 of Sinful Little Lies

Lifting the photo up to Zach’s face, I can’t fight the smile that splits my cheeks. Without tearing my eyes away from the sight in front of me, I reach down and snatch a pin from the container. The pins prick my fingers with the sharp points but I don't care. I’m so fucking excited right now.

Zachary attempts to scream once more, the gag doing its job to silence him. With the picture of Leo’s face pressed against him, I take the first pin and push it through the paper at the top of his forehead. The sound of the paper being punctured before the skin breaks around the sharp point fills my ears. With asingle pin at the top of his forehead holding the photo of Leo, I let go and it hangs beautifully.

“Much better.” I smile. A small amount of crimson begins to leak from where the pin is, turning the white paper red. I hum along to the song while reaching for more pins. Continuing to push them through the paper and into his skin, I insert pins all along the perimeter of the paper.

Blood leaks from each tack hole through the black-and-white photo and satisfaction skirts down my spine. It looks perfect.

I just wish it was the real fucking thing.

With Zach’s face covered by Leo’s photograph, I grab some scissors and cut down the center of his shirt.

I rummage in my bag once more for the right tool. When my fingers graze the thin knife, I smile. The skinny, long knife is perfect for what I have planned.

I pull out the tool and turn it, letting the blade reflect the light. The clean surface shows my reflection and the big smile that fills my face.

Walking back over to my latest victim, I twirl the knife in my hand. “I've taken an interest in darts recently, you know? I’ve found that it’s pretty satisfying watching that sharp point burrow into the target.” He whimpers at my words, the tears that pour from his eyes wet the paper I have pinned to his face.

I press the tip of the knife between his collarbones and create my very own dartboard on Zachary’s chest. Blood drips down his skin in a beautiful pattern.

I’m crouched down to ensure I create the perfect bullseye and my eyes lift up to his. “Perfect.” I smile while standing back to my full height. I tilt my head and look over my handy work.

My hands twitch by my sides and my cock aches for blood. I grab my darts and give myself enough room to let them soar.

Just as I’m getting ready to throw the first dart, the song changes and the melody of my favorite song fills the room, drowning out Zach’s cries.

“Zachary-y-y-y!” I singsong. “This is my favorite song! It’s like the torture gods knew the fun was about to start.” I can’t dance for fucking shit, but I don’t care. I shimmy and shake my ass while singing along toEverywhere I Goby Hollywood Undead.

Getting lost in the haze of the bloodlust. Forgetting about everything that threatens to fall apart. Distracting my mind from the girl that I want so fucking bad but can’t seem to catch. No matter if I try to help her, save her, I won’t be enough for her. After Leo, she needs a prince charming, and that is just not me.

I’m a monster. But I know she is too.

Bringing my attention back to the dance party, I throw my ass in a circle. “Hey Zachy, do you like my dance moves?” I toss over my shoulder. When he doesn’t respond, I straighten back to my full height, and without hesitation, fling the dart right at his chest. The sharp front disappears into his skin.

That gets me a response. His muffled scream behind the gag and paper echoes around the room and my lips split into a grin. I know he can’t really see me, but if he can whimper he can say a simple, “Yes, Grimm, you dance beautifully. Teach me your ways.”

“What was that?” I cup my hand over my ear. “I didn't hear you. Was that a no?” I grab a dart from the ground and toss it hard at the carved target in his chest.

His screams turn into grunts as he loses more blood. Soon his grunts turn to silence, but I’m not done with him just yet.

My heart pumps harder as every dart impales itself into his skin.

“How about a little game of she loves me, she loves me not?” I ask. Knowing I’m not going to get a response, I throw the dart and watch as it plants into the skin.

“She loves me.”

I throw another one.

“She loves me not.”

And another one.

“She loves me.”

And another one.

“She loves me not.”

My lips spread, showcasing all of my teeth as I smile at my latest victim. Looking at the last dart sticking out of the center of the makeshift dart board, I pump my fist up.

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