Page 57 of My Kind of Monster

I cock my head and watch him. What could he possibly be talking about?

“And that is?” I ask.

“Soft.” He doesn’t waste a breath.

“Nice.” He pierces my eyes with his.

“Good.” That last word holds weight.

I watch his deep breaths pushing his chest forward, exhaling steam with each one. I watch the permanent ridges of his forehead getting deeper with a frown. I look at the darkness in his eyes and I feel like I’m falling. Again.

With barely a splash, I dropped in the deep ocean, gliding down, my last breath burning my lungs, but I do not let it out. I harness its power and let myself sink deeper into this blue abyss, every shred of control falling like pieces of a puzzle behind me. And when that breath cannot fuel me anymore, when the pain is too unbearable, I get pulled out of the abyss only to stare at that monster again. The one that lives inside of him, the one that smiles at me time and time again. His demons stand behind him like warriors ready to follow him into battle.

How could I ever believe he is anything but this monster. Yet monsters do not need to do monstrous things constantly to prove what they are.

And Niklas doesn’t either.

This is what scares me the most, his terrifying ability to play with my mind, that sliver of me that has helped me to survive everything, that sliver that keeps me whole. He plays with it and it is never by intention on his part, not at all. It is his nature, the nature of the beast, the nature of the monster that wants to play with its prey. He scares me, then he soothes me, he hurts me, then he pleasures me—making my mind spin out of control. I want to learn the rules of the game, because I want to know what is real and what is not.

Is the way he takes care of me real? Do I want to know if it is? And if it is, indeed… what does it mean?

I quickly shut out all those ideas, push them from my mind, because inevitably, I will start playing a game of my own. This cannot happen. I need to leave. I need to break free of this place before my mind splits into shards and anything left will be an empty shell. I need to leave to protect my newly mended soul and my frail heart.

As I think those words, I hear my demons wail in protest, hitting the walls of my mind and soul—fighting, pleading, but I cannot listen to them, I cannot trust them. Last time I did, I ended up with Adrien…

But you did not see his eyes until it was too late…I hear them speak in unison inside my head. Sometimes I wonder if I have schizophrenia or if that is just my subconscious talking and I just give it too much power.

Whatever it is, it’s right, I did not.

I look back into Niklas’ eyes only to realize that I have been in my head for too long, and he has been waiting patiently… quietly. He is always so quiet… like his mind needs all its resources to plot and design tortuous plans. He prefers the sound of silence most of all.

“Monsters do not need to do monstrous things constantly to prove what they are,” I repeat my thoughts to him and watch his expression flicker with an emotion I cannot place. “Nevertheless… that does not make them less of a monster.”

I sigh as his gaze deepens, almost like there was something in my words that he did not quite agree with.

“I know who you are, Niklas. I can see them in your eyes, all of them. It is a constant reminder of chaos and destruction. My destruction,” I continue. My words surprise me, because I do not know what this will do to me, what impact they will have. Acknowledging his demons, letting him know I know, but he strips me bare, and since knowledge is power, this is the power I am holding onto. I want him to know I see him, and he could never hide what he is from me.

His gaze shifts suddenly, and I feel the need to shift with it, backwards, away from him, but his hands move to my waist in a split second, gripping hard, pulling me back to him.

Those eyes hold promises of chaos and now I know what my words did to him—they brought it all out in the open, tearing down the walls holding them in line. There is nothing holding him back now.

What have I done?

He holds me in place, his fingers digging into my flesh, my hands falling back on the wooden floor as I lean back. His body, kneeling on the step between my open thighs, straightens to the point that I feel like death itself is looming over me.

It dawns on me that, until now, his body took a soothing, less threatening stance. He made himself small in front of me to help me feel better, to allow me to come back down to earth. I did exactly what he just warned me about—I saw him as something he is not without realizing. Now, his wide torso, his broad shoulders, and his thick, strong arms speak a totally different language, one laced in chaos and destruction. I both fear it and crave it and I do not know which is worse.

Then he speaks, and I can feel the vibrations that rip out of his throat, that travel down his shoulders, through his arms and straight into my flesh. I shiver. “Little siren…” his tone is murderous, doused in maple-syrup-tasting blood. “I believe you missed one crucial thing…”

I feel like he wants me to ask what, but he continues either way.

“I see you, little siren.”

I shiver as his fingers bruise my waist.

“I know who you are Suki… I can see them in your eyes as well.”

Now I am scared. Truly terrified, because he is right, I did miss that. I did not think he could, but then… our demons howl together, how could I have missed that he could read me just as I him?!

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