Page 26 of Possess Us
Well. That’s just crude.
He’s in an executioner's costume. A great bulk of a man with a shirtless, rotund stomach, an axe leaning against the doorframe and black leather cuffs. I cringe seeing his pierced nipples and chains hanging from one to the other.
Lord, that man is sweating like a vicar in a whore house.
He steps aside. Lust walks in like he’s been here a dozen times or more. I feel my hand getting slicker with sweat in his, but he only holds my hand tighter, guiding me onwards.
The walls are dingy and grey, as you would expect an old factory to look. Only some twinkling white lights lead the way, lining the wall and guiding us through the maze of the building.
We approach another door where a second executioner stands. This one is more slender, with nipple clamps.
He opens another door and steps aside to allow us through.
I hold my head high, swaying my hips as I walk past him.
I belong here. I own this place and all those within.
I repeat this to myself, spurring on my courage and resolve.
The demons still inside rise to the surface, bristling beneath my skin as though desperate to escape. To taste and smell theworld. To explode into this place and bring down more blood and destruction than is already here.
Lust sees my confident stride. His hand lets me go and rests instead on my ass, feeling the exaggerated sway of my hips.
I smile, knowing that soon, everyone here will pay.
Chapter 8
Willow
The room is just as I remember. Large and filled with old piping, metal grates and rusted out machinery lining the walls and ceiling.
There are a few differences tonight. Orange fairy lights have been added in countless lines across the ceiling, and dozens of carved pumpkins have been placed all over the room. Candles flicker inside them, making the twisted faces carved into the flesh glow and move. As an added touch, a small band of musicians in bloody tuxedos and black masks are in the corner. Their cellos and violins are playing hauntingly eerie music which echoes off the stone and metal.
‘Champagne?’ A waiter asks.
His face is painted white, and fake blood has been dripped across his throat with a very realistic prosthetic of an open gash. He offers a silver tray filled with champagne flutes and eyeball-shaped canapés.
Lust takes two flutes and hands one to me. We stand opposite one another as he clinks my glass. I find his playfulnessintoxicating, settling my nerves a little as I face a part of my life I never wanted to step back into.
As I look around the room, Lust sweeps the length of my hair over my shoulder and softly kisses my neck. His fingers are soft as they tease my skin, and I tilt my head to give him more access.
It’s making it difficult to focus with him doing that. The increasingly intense humming of the demons still inside causes me to shudder.
My focus is suddenly and inexplicably pulled across the room by an intense feeling of being watched.
‘There,’ I whisper, my hand gripping Lust’s shirt as I stare at the man across the room.
He looks over his shoulder.
‘Ahh. There he is indeed.’ Lust steps behind me, his arms wrapped around my middle as his chin rests on the top of my head. ‘Do you see him, brother?’ he whispers in my ear. ‘I think he will do nicely.’
Nate.
I can tell by the tattoos if nothing else.
His face has been painted as a skull. He’s in a white vest with black suspenders over his broad and muscled shoulders. He’s wearing his usual black leather jacket.
He looks fucking delicious. In a serial killer psychopathic kinda way, but utterly beautiful, nonetheless.
