Page 32 of Creep
Smiling, I drop the glass and walk to my bed collapsing face first onto the mattress, exhaustion pulling me under.
12
Vincent
I got lostin the moment with heragain.Watching her bring a knife to her skin—knowing what she was going to do—something came over me and I lost all sense of reason. I need to be the one to hurt her and bring her pain, but I can’t keep losing my control with her. She’s going to be my fucking ruin, my fucking demise, and she’s going to demolish everything in my life.
I groan in frustration as I lie in bed, staring up at the high ceiling. I blindly reach across to my bedside table and smack my hand around until I find the remote to the sound system. Without caring to choose a song, I hit play. “Send The Pain Below” by Chevelle blasts through the speakers but it’s not loud enough so I turn it up as loud as it will go and toss the remote on the bed next to me.
Memories from mere hours ago flood my mind. The need to hurt her seeped into my blood, begging me to sink the blade in a little deeper. To watch her bleed out in front of me, the life draining from her little by little. But the moment those little moans escaped her lips, giving away how much she wanted me, I snapped.
She’s so fucking addictive. Her broken and beautifully tragic soul lures my raging inferno of one out of its depths, and together they merge into something savage, ravenous. It wreaks havoc on both of our minds, and both of our souls. And when we come out of it? Neither one of us remains the same.
I trace my tattoo, thinking about my mother and her addiction. I swore to myself I would never touch the shit, or any drug in fact, but I’m slowly beginning to realize now, addiction is about much more than a simple fucking drug. An addiction can be so much more. Take Essa for example. I know she’s addicted to hurting herself. She does it not only because she wants to, but because sheneedsto. And the fucking moment I drew blood on her, Iknewshe was going to fuck me up.
Because now I’ve had a taste, her blood and her fuckingpainis what I need and the more I get, the more I crave. Her screams and her moans. Her fighting and her fucking attitude. All of it is becoming a fucking addiction and as much as I tell myself I don’t want her, I know it’s a fucking lie.
Her blood is a beacon, begging for me to set it free, to let it flow. And plus the way she fucking tastes?Fuck.My dick hardens, desperate to taste the metallic zing of her blood again. I grasp my cock in my fist, stroking at a fast pace.
In my head, all I hear are her moans for me. All I see is her blood covering her skin. All I feel are my fingers in her tight, wet pussy which grips me so fucking tight. I pump harder, the need to come coursing through my body. Stroking two more times, I groan as I spill across my stomach.
Fuck, she’s even fucking with my goddamn dick.After wiping the cum off of my stomach, I roll to my side and stare out the window until I see the sun rising over the trees, turning the night into day, the dark to light.
* * *
I’m leaningagainst the door frame leading into my game room and staring at the pole which goes from floor to ceiling. When I bought this house, I had this installed myself. My previous fuck toys wouldloveto dance for me and who am I to deny myself a good time. I originally came in here to play a game of pool to distract myself but since I walked in the door, all I can think about is Essa sliding up and down the pole for me, shaking that fucking ass of hers. Of course she’d fight it the whole way, but that’s only part of the fun—her acting like she doesn’t want me.
Sounds coming from the kitchen break my train of thought. I make my way to where I know Essa is, my mind already made up. When I walk into the kitchen, I see her fighting with my coffee machine, attempting to make herself a cup. She is wearing a pair of light gray sweatpants and some sort of band hoodie. Bring Me The Horizon I think. Her hair is thrown up on the top of her head, looking like a birds nest. She’s flipping through the manual for the coffee machine, trying to figure out how to even turn the damn thing on. A burst of laughter escapes my mouth and her eyes swing over to mine, the noise startling her. Embarrassment flushes her face, but soon after it’s replaced with the ever occurring anger she seems to have for me.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” She sneers while holding my gaze.
I heard her crying and screaming last night after I left. I shut the door to her room behind me and leaned against it, sliding down until my ass met the floor. My clothes were soaked and sticking to my skin, pissing me off, but I couldn’t leave when I heard the first sound of her cries. They broke through the barrier of the door and swarmed around me like bees. Each scream stinging me, becoming worse the longer they continued, until I felt as wounded as her. I wanted nothing more than to bust through the door and hold her in my arms, to stop her screams, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let her know she has a hold over me. It would’ve ensued more chaos between the two of us and we’re already set to implode. Then I heard the glass shatter and my heart stopped along with her screams.
“Just let me do it. I don’t want you breaking my shit. It’s expensive.”
She scoffs. “Yeah, like you actually give a shit about what it costs. Look around. You live in a fucking glass house and you have top of the line everything. Money clearly isn’t an issue for you.” Rolling her eyes, she opens the cupboard and grabs a mug.
“Grab one for me too, brat.”
“Yes, sir.” She mocks as she reaches up again and grabs another for me. I’m about to make a comment about her calling me sir, but as she reaches her arm up, her sleeve slides up her arm and I notice a bandage covering her forearm. A bandage she didn’t have before. Her sleeve drops back into place when she sets the mugs on the counter.
“What the fuck is that?” I start the coffee machine and grab the arm in question, and yank her to me. She collides into my body, her chest against mine. I feel her nipples harden at the contact.
“Is it cold in here, baby doll?” I tease.
“Oh, fuck off you asshole.” She tries to pull herself away from me, but I wrap my arms around her waist and firmly hold her in place. I push her sleeve up her arm and rip the bandage away, revealing what’s underneath. The word CREEP is cut into her skin in all bold, capital letters. I’m honestly fucking baffled but my interest is piqued.
She continues to struggle in my hold, but now I’ve seen what it says, I let her go. She stumbles away and yanks her sleeve down as if I didn’t just see what was underneath it. She leans against the counter, feigning confidence, but doing the worst job of it. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she clenches her fists into balls. I know why she does it too. She digs her nails into her palms, giving herself merely enough pain to stay centered and to stay calm. Yeah, I know this girl and what makes her tick.
“Care to explain whatthatis?” I gesture to her arm in question. She turns her head away from me, staring out the window into the mass expanse of trees, trees apparently both of us love staring at.
“I’ve always had sort of an obsession with wolves. I admire them, envy them. Their loyalty to one another and to their pack. They would die without a second thought to protect each other. Have you ever had that kind of loyalty? That kind of love? No? Yeah, me either.” She chuckles, but it’s not a happy one, more manic sounding. I choose to remain silent, waiting to see if she makes her point.
“You wanna know why? Because a creep like me doesn’t get to have the good of others, doesn't get to experience those things because I don’t deserve it. My demons have become me and the person I used to be is long gone. I honestly don’t even think she existed to begin with. I have always barely managed going through the motions. Living, breathing, fuckingsurviving. So here I am, a creep emerging from the shadows, out to obliterate everyone in its path.”
I’m stunned at the words leaving her mouth. How something so in depth just left her mouth astounds me. I knew she has had a rough life, a life much worse than most people can even think of, but what she said has me thinking about my own demon living inside of me. Festering, begging to be releasedby her…
Essa and I both remain unmoving as we stand in silence, our thoughts permeating the air around us. We’re much more alike than I ever would have imagined. Our shitty parents, our shitty childhoods, having to grow up alone, all while fighting thisthinginside of our heads. Our similarities are astounding to me.
