Page 27 of The Madness Within

One by one.

Tonight, she wandered into an alley with someone I sent her way. Tall. Clean jaw. Cheap cologne. She thought he was a witness. In a sense, he was.

A Seeker. Low rank. Loose tongue.

She leaned in, listening too intently. Her face twisted, raw, grief rippling beneath the surface. He was telling her about her mother. About what happened the night I slit open legacy and left it bleeding across the floor.

She wasn’t laughing. She was breaking. And it was fucking beautiful.

From the rooftop across the street, I laid prone. The scope hummed against my eye. The silencer kissed the barrel like a secret. I waited until her eyes started to glass over, like they did when she was little, crying under the kitchen table while her mother begged for mercy.

She didn’t even realize I was watching, how sweet.

How stupid.

The man she was talking to, though? He’d be my message.

I’d tear him apart while she’s still tasting the echo of his voice. Let her feel it. Let her know I was coming.

Slow.

Loving.

I wanted her afraid the next time she dared to breathe.

One breath. One twitch. One memory.

And then…Bang.

The man’s skull split open like overripe fruit. Pink mist sprayed her cheeks. His body collapsed mid-sentence. A smear of brains on brick. A twitching mess at her feet.

She screamed.

Oh, how she screamed. That sound… It went straight to my cock.

Panic. Chaos. I didn’t move. Just watched.

She bolted with hands trembling, red blooming on her palms. Tears streaked her face like rain through ash as she ran away.

Her bloodline was a wound the world should’ve cauterized years ago. I broke her mother. Now I’d burn her, piece by piece.

The justice system tried to cage me. But Dorian Vale? He pried the bars apart. Got me off with a wink and a clause.

Now I was free. And Ember Carr was mine to ruin.

The first shot was a warning. The next will be a lesson. And the last?

A love letter written in gore.

Chapter Nine

???A Different Kind of Hunger

Ember

I watched a man die yesterday.

Not metaphorically. Not emotionally.

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