Page 2 of Viparious

No one will touch her, she’s under my protection and my brothers won’t let anyone close. She is a Vartanova, a queen.Myfucking queen. My fucking wife! This ugly cunt doesn’t deserve to even exist during the same time as her, never mind touching her or fucking fantasizing about it. She’d reject him in his own imagination because she is that fucking powerful.

He steps closer and examines my face, looking for a reaction. There won’t be anything visible. You grow up with Len and you learn to bury everything. You don’t mourn, you don’t fucking smile, or laugh. The only expression that wasn’t met with his fist is blank — no emotions, no weakness.

One more step, that’s all he needs to take, and I can get my hands on him. Fuck the moon landing being one small step for man, the small distance between Birdie and me is more significant. It has deeper meaning because it’s not for the right to plant a flag but to keep my family protected. He’s an arrogant bastard and moves his face closer, giving me my opening. My shoulder burns from the abrupt movement as I drop the chains from my fist and wrap it around his throat.

Blood coats my chest from the bullet wound I didn’t know I had, but I don’t stop tightening. Our audience looks on with shock and fear, seeing the metal peg twisting through the wall and coming loose with the force. Kicking into the back of Birdie’s knee as I tighten the chains around his throat, the crack is like a starting pistol, filling me with adrenaline.

The heavy metal weighs down my arms, but my rage is my fucking fuel. Proving how fucking stupid they are, it only takes me two steps to block the exit. The first rule of torturing someone, you position them further away from any exit, so you don’t pass them to leave.

Fucking morons.

Like the snake he is, Leno has disappeared, leaving the remaining members of Satan’s Rejects to officially meet the devil. There are three in the room, the same three who have been here since I opened my eyes and my vision wavers as I roll my shoulders. They have their fucking cattle prods, but they’re weak now that I’m no longer chained. I already know I’m going to break both hands and slowly wrap the chains around my fist. The clink acts as a metronome, and their eyes dart to their dead leader, then to the staircase behind me.

I put off breaking my hands for as long as possible and whip the chain out. It slams into the wall, slowing down the momentum before hitting Ryder in the side of his neck. A thick welt appears as he chokes.

I feel like one of those superheroes in Viktor’s show as I tug it back and watch metal fly out again.They move, trying to escape what they thought would hold me down when I’ve gone my entire fucking life turning pain into power.

My leg and side burn, making the chains heavier, and I move forward as the one in the middle shakily reaches for his gun. My voice darkens yet still holds levity as I grab the back of his head and drive my knee up into his nose.

“No cheating now.”

He manages to get off a shot, but a tremor takes over his hand, making it skim my thigh as I pull his head down to my knee, again. A sharp pain scrapes across my ribs, and I turn to face the fucker who just stabbed me.

I look down as I snap the neck of the bleeding twat who shot me and see a slash. My tut is filled with frustration and insult.

“You have a fucking knife, and you slice?!”

Dropping the second dead man in the room, I grab the wrist of the soon-to-be third and drive his knife into his stomach. His mouth drops open. Stale smoker’s breath wafts out, making me grimace. Filthy fucking cunt, he needs to brush his teeth.

“You jab and fucking twist,” I helpfully offer.

His wrist cracks as I demonstrate what he’s supposed to do.

Ryder is still choking on the floor, and he tries to play dead around his wheezing. Grabbing his hair, I lift him up and wrap my hand around his throat, watching his eyeballs bulge.

I recognize him as the cunt who was trying to undress my wife. My mind hasn’t gone blank. Peace isn’t washing over me because it knows that I need to remember every detail to counteract the memory of anyone putting their hands on my wife.

My blood roars in my ears as I repeat his exact words and tighten my hold on his neck.

“Scream for help.”

My fist lands on his ribs as I try to help him and force it out, but he doesn’t fucking scream. Each blow is a backing track to my rage.

“You touched my wife.”

He gurgles and loses power in his limbs.

“You tried to make a fucking queen bow!”

The tips of his boots shake lightly, knocking into my shins.

“SHE IS MY WIFE!”

* * *

Every muscle burnsas I climb out of the car, it’s lifted, making it easier, but it still jolts my body. I keep my spine straight, refusing to collapse as the guards stare wide-eyed like this isn’t my fucking house. I’m glad I found a pair of shorts now, at least they can’t see how much of my own blood is on my skin. I’m nearly knocked on my ass as a ball of gray and white flies at me.

Inessa launches her entire body off the steps and manages to wrap her arms and legs around me before I even register that she’s there.The force of it rocks me back a step, and my bare soles take the pain of the stones digging into my skin, scraping them further.

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