Page 79 of Pretty Little Fears

Typically,Ifight the feelings that arise whenIthink of them, whenIthink of my childhood and the irreparable damage that was done to me.Rightnow?Iwelcome it.Irelish it.Thatpain, mixed with the fury swimming inside creates a deadly combination, one they’ll never have a chance of surviving.

Noone will.

I’llwipe the planet of every human until it's left with only two.

MeandBlair.

Whenwe walk up to the doors, the bouncers ask forIDs.Whenthe man sees my last name, he looks up at his colleague, and then immediately grants us access.Thiswas a place my father frequented. “Rightthis way, gentleman,” they say, holding out their arms as they walk us towards the stairs that lead to the basement of the building, reserved especially forVIPmembers of the casino.

Ifit wasn't for my father dragging me here relentlessly, instead of letting me play team sports or video games like a normal fucking child,Iwouldn’t have known about theVIPsection the casino held.It'sdifferent from the normalVIPthat other civilians can access.Thisis the seedierVIP, the one where most deals end with sexual favors or death, sometimes both.

Wemake our way down the red carpeted stairs andIchuckle at the sight.It'sfitting that these carpets are the same color as the crimson that will cover the casino tonight, it'll blend right in. “Rightthrough these doors.Agame is in session currently.Letus know if you need anything.”Hesays, dipping his head as he makes his way back in the direction we came from.

Asmirk lifts on my lips at how easy this was.Whata bunch of fucking idiots.Theusual panic that courses through my veins is being stomped down by the rage that shadows it.Theblood pumps in my ears as imagery of their brain matter splattered across theBlackJacktable, covering the dealer and all remaining players, flashes through my mind.

Wemay be targeting specific men for a specific reason, but hopefully, this display of affection shows everyone to not fuck with what ismine.Thefeeling leaves no room for anything other than destruction.

KILL.

Grabbingthe doorknob,Ifling the door open and take aim at the ceiling.Theshot rings out around us and the spot whereIaimed crumples as drywall and paint flutter to the floor.Theirheads whip in our direction as they reach for their own weapons.

Beforethey get the chance,GrimmandIbegin firing round after round.Heshoots them in a way that wounds them but won’t kill, only immobilize them.It'sas if he knows thatIneed to be the one to do this, to finish them off.Hecan senseI’mdoing it forBlairbut also for myself.

Theircurses flood the room as they reach and grab the limbs we’ve shot, rather than their weapons.Oneof them reaches again for his gun whenIspeak, “Don’teven fucking think about it.”Isnarl. “Pickit up andIwon’t hesitate to blow your handandyour head off.Morefun for us.Fuckingtry me.”

Hedrops the gun and raises his hands above his head. “Kickyour guns over here, now,”Grimminstructs, and without hesitation, they obey.

Ilook at each of them and my vision darkens.Myheart rate accelerates seeing them as terrified asIwas as a young boy sends a warm sensation up my spine.Ilet out a small laugh and walk closer to the table.Ipace around, behind the men, their chests rapidly heaving from their adrenaline-fueled panic.

“Shouldwe play a game?”Iask, looking at the man farthest from me.Hiseyes widen with recognition.Theymade a fucking game out of my innocence.Theylaughed at me whenIcried, whenIattempted to run away.Theylaughed when their boss caught me and held me down.

Theywon’t be laughing tonight.

“Hereare the rules of the game:Picka man, one of your colleagues at the table specifically, to be the first to die.”Ilook over atMr.Ortiz.He’staller with thick dark hair, but his build is a lot smaller compared to mine.He’sgot three daughters, andIwouldn’t be surprised if he was pimping them out and sampling the merchandise.

Icircle the men, wondering which man they think is going to be the first to go.Unfortunately, for them, their guesses will mean nothing.Theirlives are in my hands, and my patience is wearing thin.

“Onthe count of three,Iwant you all to name my first victim,”Isay, creating a tension so thick it could suffocate them.ButI’dnever make it that easy for them.

Idraw out my voice in a low, eerie tone and start to count, savoring the anticipation of their death.

“One...Two...Three!”

Beforethe men can announce their guesses,Ipull out a blade from my pocket and slam it into the temple ofMr.Silva, the closest to me.Ipry the knife from his skull, and blood sprays out, clouding my vision.Ican’t help but smile.Iplunge the knife into his jugular and remove it, repeatedly stabbing him.Hiswails are a sweet sound thatIrelish.

Idon't stop.

Ican't stop.

I'mvaguely aware of the screams that mix withGrimm’sconcerned voice.EverythingIdo is calculated and planned.This…Thisis not.Irelentlessly stabSilva, letting the blood that coats me wash away the darkness that the man had left behind.Idon't stop until there are so many gashes in his head that he's no longer recognizable, and no longer breathing.

Ifeel fucking invincible.Withevery stab, a piece of my broken soul is slowly glued back together.Droppingmy arm to my side,Ipant heavily while staring down at the beautiful destructionI’vecaused.Thesound of the others cursing and begging trickles back into my hearing.

“Heyman, you good?”Grimmasks, concern etched on his face.Thesound of his voice makes me slide my gaze from the piece of shit to him.Hiseyebrows are pinched and he looks worried.

“Yeah.I’mfucking fantastic,”Isay with a huge toothy grin, stained with blood, no doubt making me look fucking psychotic.

Ilook over at the other sad excuses for men,OrtizandLogan, who occupy the table.TurningtoGrimm,Iask over my shoulder, “Anyword onOscar’slocation?”

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