Page 45 of Vendetta

“I asked you to kill him.” She says pointing to the man who muttered, the man from the tattered photo she presented. “I said I wanted him dead.”

“Do you still want me to kill him?”

She shakes her head and my heart deflates just a little. I thought after she killed that guy who was trying to rape her, I thought after everything I’ve tried to tease out of her so far that we were getting somewhere. That she was becoming who she’s meant to be. Embracing the dark.

“I want to.” She says.

“What?”

“I want to do it. They attacked me. They beat me. Tried to violate me. They stole half my sight.” She finishes in a snarl and even I feel the anger raging through her blood right now. “I deserve to take their lives. I deserve at least that much.”

“Yes you do.” I say smiling.

She takes a sharp intake of air and her eye falls on the table to her right. She then looks at me as if for permission. Only this is her court. She is the judge, jury, and executioner here.

Whatever justice she decides it will be delivered by her hand. I’m just here to bear witness to it.

She picks up a knife. It glints in the dingy light and all four of them mumble like the pathetic, useless waste of oxygen that they are.

“Shall we begin?” She says and then I watch as my magnificent queen delivers the justice she has waited so long for.

She cuts, she gouges. The men scream. It’s a marvel to watch. A feast for my eyes. Blood flies everywhere. It splatters the wall, it covers her dress. She becomes a piece of art, the finest painting the world has seen. Her face, her scar, her skin is drenched in it but she doesn’t stop, she doesn’t even wipe any of it off, she merely lets it drip down and I stare at her beautiful body, marvel at her hardened nipples under all the coppery redness.

One of them tries to escape. He crawls on his bound hands and I put my foot on his back to hold him.

Eleri looks over with something like amusement in her face.

“Remember how I crawled?” She says walking slowly to him. “Remember how I cried? How I begged? How I pleaded?”

He whimpers. It’s pathetic to hear but incredible to watch. She crouches down, the knife is in her left hand and she stabs it into his back. Drives it between his flesh.

She then rises, takes another knife, a clean one, and continues her performance.

By the time she is done three of the four men are dead. Carved up, butchered. She sliced their dicks off. She cut great strips into their limbs and when their blood was pouring like a river she took her time carving each of their hearts out of their chests.

The last man is still beneath my boot. He hasn’t moved though we both know he’s alive from all the whimpering he’s making.

She walks up to me but her focus is on the man at our feet. She squats down, grabs his head by his hair and yanks it back as he half yelps. I’m surprised he has the energy left to make any sound but I’m pleased he does. His cries, his fear is delectable.

In one smooth, almost practiced motion Eleri slides the blade along his throat, slicing it right open. He gurgles, he splutters, his blood sprays out and she tosses the blade before running her hands through it.

She grins at me licking the taste of it from her fingers and then her mouth is against mine and I can taste it too. Taste the rusty iron on her tongue.

My avenging angel. My perfect fucking queen.

Her

We’re in the bath. Again.

We had to shower when we got back. Shower off all the blood and all the dirt too.

And now I’m lying against him, listening to his breathing, relishing the fact that he gave me that moment. He allowed me to do whatever I needed. He let me vanquish my demons without intruding, without feeling like he needed to be a part of it.

“What are you thinking?” He says.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

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