Page 60 of Fear the Reapers
“They are your d… demons, baby,” Tristan said, touching the small of my back, “it’s time you faced them.”
I stepped forward into the light on shaky knees.I could do this. I could confront the demons that haunted my nights.
“You?” Gavin asked incredulously as soon as I stumbled into the light. “You are what this is all about? Jesus fucking Christ.” He spat, shaking his head with disbelief. “Look, gentlemen, the pussy was good. But it was neverthatgood.”
Shame flamed my cheeks. Even before he raped me, I had willingly had sex with him. I had chosen him because he was the safe, smart choice. I wanted a normal life, and he seemed to fit the mold. I was so distracted by his image that I missed all the glaring warning signs. Gavin Anderson was a monster.
“Shut the fuck up.” Atlas hissed, crushing his knuckles against Gavin’s nose with a swift punch.
Gavin’s head jerked back violently, and within seconds blood was trickling down his face. Stunned into silence, he blinked back tears as his eyes shifted between the five of us.
“What am I supposed to do with them?” I asked, chewing on my lower lip.
“Whatever you want, Angel.” Ezra said, moving to stand beside me. “You’re the one in control here.”
“She’s fucking all of you. Isn’t she?” Gavin declared with a harsh laugh. “Damn Steph, I didn’t think you had it in you. Babe, if you wanted a foursome, you should’ve just said so. Derek and Zeke would’ve been down.”
I flinched at the sound of bones cracking as Cyrus kicked in Gavin’s knee cap. The scream that escaped Gavin’s lips was guttural, but the idiot continued mocking me.
“You’re as pathetic as ever, Steph.” He winced, putting weight on his other leg as he spit the blood still filling mouth. “Letting them fight your fucking battles. You’re weak!”
“Gavin, shut the fuck up, idiot.” One of his friends hissed. “You are going to get us all killed.”
Gavin may have been a stupid asshole, but he was right. The Reapers were fighting my battle for me. If I wanted to prove that I could survive in their world, I needed to step up and show it.
My eyes darted around the room, looking for something I could use to show I meant business. In the far left corner of the room, I could see what looked to be a table, topped with a variety of tools.
“Can I?” I asked, gesturing towards the corner.
Surprise briefly flashed across all of their faces before returning to their usual stoic expressions.
“You have free rein, Princess.” Cyrus offered, eyeing me with caution.
I floated towards the tools, fascinated by the sheer amount of choices I had. There were no guns or large knives, nothing that would make death come quickly. Each tool would make the pain as excruciatingly slow as possible, and I was having a hard time deciding.
The Reapers probably assumed I was only trying to scare Gavin and his friends. But I didn’t want to just scare them. I wanted to hurt them. Wanted to make them pay for their crimes in blood.
Then I spotted it. A pocket knife. It was almost an exact replica of the knife Gavin used on me that night. This one’s blade was a little sharper, but the size and shape of it was uncanny. Talk about poetic justice.
I stalked towards the three of them, forming a sinister smile on my face. I wanted to elicit the same fear their violence had given me night after night.
“She’s not going to do anything.” He snarled, glancing at both of his friends. “She doesn’t have the fucking balls.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” I said with a smirk as I slid the blade down his fleshy gut. “I think I’ll start with removing yours.”
Tiny beads of sweat dripped down his brow as he watched my blade glide lower and lower. Just as the tip of the blade reached his waistband, I paused, wanting to relish in the fear in his eyes. His eyes were frozen, locked on the blade that was mere inches away from cutting off his most vile weapon.
I slashed the blade up his stomach and laughed, feeling the blood splatter hit my face.
“Like I’d ever choose to go near that tragic excuse for a cock again.” I sneered, smiling as he shrieked in agony.
After the first cut, Gavin’s body tried to curl in on itself, but the ropes biting into his wrists wouldn’t allow it. His pain. His pure agony would be on display for us the entire time.
The sweet smell of violence engulfed the room as I continued my assault on Gavin’s body. Slashing and slicing wherever the blade would land. My movements were frantic and deranged as sticky sweat coated my skin, but I could stop myself.
I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to feel every slice in his bones. I didn’t want to just scar his skin; I wanted to leave a permanent mark on his soul. I wanted to hurt him as badly and as deeply as he hurt me.
It wasn’t until Tristan was pulling me away and Ezra was wrapping my wounded hand, that I realized Gavin was dead. He had always seemed like this immovable force. Like this persistent ghost that would always haunt me. But as I looked at the blood on my hands and the cold bloody body hanging from the castors on the ceiling, I realized Gavin was human. He felt pain like a human, bled like a human, and died like a human.
