Page 16 of The Cute Psycho

I take a step forward. And two. By the third one my legs feel heavy, my entire body falling under a strange lethargy.

From the corner of my eyes, I glimpse my father, a tranquilizer gun in his hand as he's aiming at me. He's not alone, and soon I realize I'm cornered from all parts.

Still, no matter how much I want to stay and fight, my body stops obeying me.

And I fall.

4

VLAD

AGE TWENTY

Stepping under the warm water jet, I watch as some blood pools at my feet. I feel for the knife wound, my fingers measuring its depth. Satisfied it's not too deep, I get out of the shower and take out the first aid kit.

I force my brain to shut off all the noise around me, focusing only on getting this damned wound fixed.

I place myself in front of the mirror to get a better look at my body. Then, taking some gauze and soaking it in disinfectant, I douse it all over the affected area. The pain is minimal, almost like a ticklish feeling. I can't even remember the last time my body had ached, or any wound had pained me.

Now, they're simply there. I know I have to be careful, so that they don't become septic, but other than that they don't interfere with my other activities.

I'd gotten this specific one because of Bianca, my new partner. I grit my teeth as I think about that, because most of the time she simply annoys me with her presence.

This time it had been no different. She'd goaded me into a fight and when we'd reached our target I'd snapped, losing control and slaughtering an entire room of people. It was during that bloodbath that someone must have jabbed me in the ribs, although I have no recollection of it.

If only Marcello were still here.

I sigh as I continue the ministration, taking a Band-Aid and placing it on top of the wound.

Marcello and I had had a quiet understanding and we'd worked in one of those rare partnerships where one didn't even have to speak for the other to follow. We were evenly matched in most things, his intellect sharp, his skills unparalleled. Butcertainissues had made him abandon his place in the famiglia.

I still keep tabs on him, but something's changed. He's... broken.

That doesn't mean I forgive him for leaving me partnerless, since my father had needed to find a replacement as he doesn't trust me to do a job on my own.

Hell, I don't trust myself either.

After my break-down in Harlem, a few years ago, he'd placed me under strict supervision, knowing that my grasp on my sanity had dimmed considerably, once I'd found out my sister was, in fact, dead.

Although I don't appreciate the constant attention, even I have to admit that I'm too dangerous to be left alone.

My fascination with blood had only increased after that incident. But the same substance that once brought me joy has now become my main trigger. If before I lived for the sight of blood pouring out of my victims, now I avoided it like the plague, knowing that if I became too enthralled by it, my mind would slip from me.

Usually I can feel a crisis coming, and I do my best to calm down. But sometimes, the bloodlust becomes so strong, I'm simply no longer human.

A killing machine. A monster. A berserker.

People have given me many nicknames over the years, but only one has stuck: Berserker. Ironically also my codename, I'd been given the nickname after the Norse mindless warriors. Those fighting in afury-like trance with no recognition of what goes around them except destruction.

Because that's exactly what I become when I lose myself.

A mindless monster.

Of course my father couldn't rid himself of his perfect weapon, so he'd sought to control me in the least intrusive way—a new partner.

Bianca is three years younger than me, and while her age would put her firmly into an inoffensive category, she's also a born killer. Clinically diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder, Bianca is brash, reckless and a major pain in the ass.

We do complement each other well on the battlefield though, since guns are her weapons of choice while mine are knives. This way, I engage in close combat, and she has my back from a distance.

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