Page 93 of The Cute Psycho

The next person is brought in. Dressed entirely in black, it only serves to emphasize the paleness of his skin, the whiteness of his hair.

"What's wrong with him?" I blurt out when I see him stumbling around.

"He has a genetic condition called albinism. His body doesn't produce melanin, so he lacks color," Vlad starts telling me about the biology behind the disorder. "You should look away, Sisi," he tells me, tugging me to his side, ready to shield me.

"Why?"

"It's likely going to get brutal." He purses his lips. "Albino people are usually sought after for one thing," he says, and right at that moment, the man's arm is strapped to a table, another man joining them on the stage and wielding a huge blade.

"Last chance," Vlad whispers, but I shake my head.

I need to see this. Iwantto see just how fucked up this world is. In my naivete, I'd thought I'd endured the worst at Sacre Coeur, but I'm slowly finding out that life outside of the convent's walls isn't any less brutal.

In fact, this is downright atrocious.

His arm around me, I can tell he's trying to comfort me, especially as the blade falls upon the albino's arm, slicing it at the elbow.

A bloodcurdling scream erupts in the air and people are cheering on, everyone already shouting exorbitant amounts.

The hand is taken from the albino and placed in a pot.

"You don't mean they..." I'm shocked as I see them cook the arm on a stove.

"Albino limbs are used in witchcraft. A lot of superstitious people believe that a potion made from albino flesh will give them prosperity," Vlad speaks, and I watch stupefied as they do just that, preparing a live potion for whoever will spend millions on it.

"God," I whisper.

"You should have looked away, Sisi."

"No. This is the reality we live in. Ineedto see."

The first pot is auctioned for two million, with three more pots prepared from the other arm and his two legs. The screams continue as two men cut his legs using a saw. The poor man hasn't even been given anything for the pain, and the crowd seems to cheer at his continued screams. As the bone gives way, blood slowly starts to flowonto the floor, before suddenly gushing in rivulets as they take away the limbs.

His expression is half-closed, the pain too much. I have to wonder how much longer he's going to live.

Looking around, everyone is excited to watch this inhumane handling of a person. Someone even shouts to cut the head too. I suddenly realize just how deep the depravity lies, and that in a way, the outside world functions just like Sacre Coeur.

Eat or be eaten.

There are only two choices. Be the victim, or the assailant.

One glance at Vlad and I see him avert his gaze from the bloody show in front of us. The stage is already red as most of the blood has drained from the man's body. Vlad's shoulders are shaking slightly as he struggles for a modicum of control.

"Are you okay?" I turn to him, noticing the paleness of his features and the strain in his jaw. He's close to snapping. I can feel it.

He gives me a brisk nod, but he looks anything but okay. Grabbing his face in my hands, I raise myself on my tip-toes, turning him away from the bloody spectacle. I lean in until my lips meet his.

22

SISI

His eyes are unfocused as he holds himself still, and the scene from the restaurant replays in my mind.

"I'm here," I speak against his lips. "Everything is okay," I brush my lips back and forth on him, teasing him with the barest of contact. "I have you."

He slowly starts reacting, parting his lips under mine, allowing me to explore the depths of his mouth.

What starts as a tentative but sensuous kiss soon turns into a hungry and heated one as he brings me flush against his body, his mouth opening on top of mine to devour me. He's already hard, and a thrill goes down my body at being able to awaken this reaction from him.

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