Page 10 of Beneath Her Skin

“Maybe if we did more than one single show while in town...”

Exactly. Make Inferno a two-night special. I’m sure it would bring in so much revenue. Or even add more stops to the schedule. Anything but this.

As I walk, my eyes take in the sea of faces and the laughter of children, and for a moment I smile inside.At least these children seem happy.Unlike my own horrible upbringing, at least theseparents are trying.“Don’t do this to yourself, Nova. You had no control over what happened.”

It’s right. I didn't have control over what my father did to my mother and unborn brother. I need to stop dwelling and enjoy the night off.

Everything seems to be going as usual: screaming children playing games, getting that rush of sugar that will surely have them crash out for the night once they’re back home. Seeing the parents' smiles on their faces as they enjoy the happiness stirs something inside me."Ugh... are you actually happy looking at the little goblins?”

Let me enjoy this, okay? You know I’ll never have my own.

“Fair enough, just don’t get too attached and do something stupid like steal one. We don’t have the mental capacity to care for one.”

Then I see them. A man, his wife, and their small son, clinging to his mother’s leg like a lifeline. The woman’s eyes are downcast, her smile forced, and her entire demeanor screams of fear. Leaning against one of the booths, arms crossed over my chest, I watch the way the man pays no attention to his wife unless he needs something from her. How the child keeps his distance from him and looks defeated.

“Victims,”the voice growls inside my head.“He hurts them, Nova. It’s written all over their faces.”

I feel a spark of rage ignite inside of me, and my gaze zeroes in on the man. Not that he is anything to write home about compared to the men I’ve enjoyed. I understand why a woman might find him attractive. Tall, not hideous, and puts on the vibe that he isn’t a piece of shit. Though the demeanor of the woman and child clearly refute that last thought. He is oblivious to the terror he inspires, too busy ogling the other women around him to notice the way his wife flinches when he touches her.“Or he doesn’t care that they are afraid.”The boy, sensing his mother’sdistress, stays glued to her side, his big eyes watching his father with a mixture of fear and wariness.

“We need to stop this, Nova. We can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

What do you expect me to do? It’s fucking broad daylight. And I for sure am not fucking that.

“Not fuck him. Kill him.”

Ohhhhh. Well, now that you’ve said it. I can definitely go for that.

I know that tone, that feeling. It’s the same one that drives me to perform—to lose myself in the flames and the music. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s not just about the thrill of the show; it’s about righting what’s been wronged. The voice and I are in perfect sync, our thoughts aligned in a singular purpose: to take down the man who’s hurting these two innocent people. I’m not typically one for any kind of vigilante-type justice but it seems like this is a special circumstance. They walk past the stall I’m leaning against and the little boy locks eyes with me and I give him a little wave.

The complete sadness in his eyes rips my heart a part.

Fuck this!

I stalk behind them, keeping enough distance between us as I watch the man interact with his family. The woman tries to make small talk, but he’s too busy scanning the crowds, his eyes lingering on the other women, patrons, and performers alike. The voice growls, its anger simmering just below the surface.“He’s a predator, Nova. He’s got no idea what’s waiting for him. Oh, we are going to have so much fun playing with this one.”

That I am. The pleasure that I will get from this will hopefully tide me over until we get to the next location.

The sweet little boy looks up at his mother, his eyes welling with tears, and she quickly kneels down to comfort him. Theman, still oblivious, continues to chat up one of the other performers, his back turned to his family. The voice is a constant stream of encouragement, urging me on as I plan my attack.“His blood will look so pretty on the blade of our knife. We’ll show him what it means to hurt those who can’t fight back.”

I feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my senses are heightened as I move through the crowds. The music and laughter around me fade into the background, and all I can focus on is the man, his wife, and their son. It’s as if everything around me moves in slow motion, the world ebbing and flowing, but I’m stuck in a trance. Watching my prey. My thrumming heartbeat is the only sound I can hear, with the exception of the voice. It’s a steady drumbeat in my head, driving me forward and pushing me to act.I know what I have to do. I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to enjoy every second of his life ending.

“Yes! No boring night for us!”

I weave in and out of the crowds, my eyes never leaving the man’s back. The man caresses the back of his wife’s neck, brushing her hair aside, and I draw in a breath at the sight of deep purple bruises. He rubs his thumb back and forth over the marks, causing her to recoil in pain.Sadistic motherfucker. He’s fucking ballsy to draw attention to the bruises on her body.

“I wonder if the child has bruises. I’d bet money that he does. Unless he just gets off on the fear of the child. Either way, he’s gotta die. The world won’t miss a man like him. You know they should really give you an award after you kill him. Like you did your civic duty in taking out the trash.”

Please stop yapping. I’m trying to focus.

The voice constantly whispers in my ear, its words are a dark serenade that fuels the rage that simmers just below the surface of the facade that I hide behind.“He’s a monster, Nova. He’s hurting them, and he thinks he can get away with it. But we’re not going to let him.”

No, I won’t.

I make my way to the edge of the carnival, where the shadows are darker and the crowds are thinner. The smell of grease and sugar gives way to the acrid scent of smoke and diesel fuel. I know this area like the back of my hand, every twist and turn of the midway, every hidden corner, and secret spot. My voice knows it too, and it guides me with ease, its words a steady stream of encouragement.

“Take a moment to breathe. We need a plan.”

Plan? More like he just needs to die. I could drown him in the pool of pig’s blood. That would be a pretty fun way to kill him.

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