3. Chapter One

Chapter One

Azizia

The bathroom is covered in blood.

And I mean covered .

There isn’t an inch of floor that isn’t red. The walls are painted in it too, and there’s splatter all over the ceiling. I didn’t mean to hit an artery, but when they fight back so hard, it’s difficult not to. I prefer a slower, more painful death, but when you get those arteries, it’s lights out.

Such a damn shame.

She was so pretty, too. I’d love to have sat and watched her beg a little more…

Guess I’ll have to be more careful with the next one.

I grab a towel from the rack over the toilet and drop it onto the floor in the doorway, hoping it’ll stop the blood from seeping into the rest of the house. The less messy it is out here, the better. I need a place to stay for a while, and I’d rather not slip in blood, or worse… have my foot get stuck in it. Ugh, I hate when it’s gooey—like glue.

I move to the kitchen and grab a soda from the fridge. I crack it open as I walk around the house, taking everything in. It’s a cozy little place. The girl was young and doing well for herself, it seems. I should have thanked her for that before I killed her, but oh well.

I take the soda with me and sit on the small couch in the living room to take a break. I’ve been moving all day, and a nap would be nice.

Oh, a nap sounds so good.

I put the soda onto the glass table beside the couch, then lie down and close my eyes.

The stone floor beneath me is cool and hard—just the way I like it. Anything that’s different from hell is good in my book. I’m tired of hot and sticky. Fire and lava are overrated. And the humidity? Don’t even get me started on it. Even the thought makes me want to gag.

Nevermind what it does to my hair. The air up here is nice. Though there were some places that didn’t smell too great.

I spread my arms wide, crossing my feet at the ankles and open my eyes to darkness.

I can’t help but smile at how simple and lovely this all is.

For once, I’m confident with the choice I made.

Running away was a good decision.

This basement is wonderful. I only wish it were mine and I could stay here forever.

I glance at the door that leads upstairs.

Maybe it could be mine forever?

The girl who was living here won’t need it anymore considering she’s rotting in the bathtub… I really should clean that up, but I’m tired . A good mauling takes a lot out of me. Even though it feels good in the moment… all the blood and guts, the yelling and begging… this right here, the silence, peace, and stale air? There’s just something comforting about it. Besides, this basement has the best acoustics I’ve ever heard! I’d been exploring the house, had my favorite podcast on, and made my way down here. The sound had me stopping and sucking in a breath. It was at that moment I knew this would be my favorite place up here on earth.

I spent half an hour finding the perfect placement for my phone so I could get the sound just right . I’ve gone through countless episodes of Crime Time on a Dime since. There’s just something about the way Shelly talks about cases and how they could have been investigated better… and cheaper . She’s so passionate and gets into the gritty details.

I love hearing the details.

All of them.

Every last one.

I glance up at the ceiling, to where the body is. Rigor Mortis has surely set in by now. I can’t remember how long it’ll take for maggots to start eating her. If I turn the heat up, it should happen quicker, but I hate the heat and the smell would get worse. I hate the smell of rotting flesh.

Originally, I hadn’t planned on staying here long, but now that I’ve found this house, I may have changed my mind. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop. A place to rest. But it could be home.

“Well, that’s a wrap, my freaky fans!” Shelly says from the phone. “Until next time…”

The eerie music plays and then it’s silent for a few moments while the app moves to the next episode.

I have to say, Azrael is amazing for setting me up with this phone. Techy stuff isn’t my thing, never has been. Thankfully, he’s not only good at figuring it all out, he’s good at explaining it to me in a way I can understand. I swear, tech stuff is gibberish. Boy, do I love that man. Not enough to stay in hell, but oh well. I can love him from up here, too. Plus, he said he’d visit me sometime.

Music fills the basement, but it isn’t Shelly’s intro. I turn my head in the direction of my phone, wondering if she’s changed it or if I’d finally listened to the last episode.

Damn, I hope I haven’t.

The music playing is a jazzy little guitar number, and doesn’t sound like something fitting for true crime.

“Hello, Word Warriors…”

Oh? My ears perk up at the sound of that man’s voice.

“Welcome to The Nerd Word, I’m Felix, your host.”

Host? He sounds like a voice porn star. Is that a thing? Like a naughty narrator? A sexy storyteller?

A smile splits my face as I roll onto my stomach and stare into the corner where my phone is, resting my chin on my fists.

“Today, we’re going to get right into it, and continue the same path we’ve been on. For those just joining us, I like to talk about words. Words I like, words I don’t like, words people say incorrectly, and words that are beautiful. The lists go on and on. Today, we will talk about the infamous irregardless along with anyways . Also on the list is carnation, epidemic, monstrosity, and our bonus word for the day is… specificity. Ah, what a fun one to say.”

He chuckles, and the sound causes a tingling sensation everywhere.

Holy hell, this man’s voice…

My panties are soaked just listening to him. I wonder what he looks like? Does he live around here? Where can I find him?

“Let’s start with irregardless. People, this one is simple. It’s not a word. Stop saying it. Stop using it. Hell, stop thinking about it. The word you’re looking for is regardless. Re , people, that’s it.”

I get to my feet and move to grab my phone to click on the details.

There is no photo, which is such a bummer, but there is an email listed for listeners to send in bonus word suggestions.

“Bonus words? How about bonus story ? This man is going to say some dirty words, whether he likes it or not.”

I open the note app on my phone and type. I think of every dirty thing I’d want this man to say to me and put it down, and when I’m done, I look it over and can’t help but grin.

Hi Felix, I’ve attached a wonderful narrative I’ve written, and would love for you to read it on the air. I have a feeling your listeners, me especially, will enjoy it. I only found your podcast about five minutes ago, but I’m already obsessed!!!!

Dear Zia,

I’ve been thinking about you… about us. I can’t get you off my mind. All I can picture is how your lips would feel around my cock, how tight you’d be around my fingers, the way you’d taste on my tongue. I dream of having you bent over my bed, playing with that perfect little pussy of yours while I stroke my fat dick and watch. You’d tell me to fuck your ass, but I’d tell you we should wait. You’d beg, and finally I’d give in because I’ll give you anything you want.

Until next time…

P.S. Think of me when you touch yourself. I’ll do the same.

All my love, Daddy Felix.

Holy hell, I need a drink, a fan, and a bag of ice.

I copy the passage, put it into an email, and don’t hesitate to hit send.

Boy, am I grateful Rae showed me how to send emails.

Now, all I can do is wait for Felix to read my words.

My phone alerts me of a new email, and I check it right away. There are only two people who have my email—Rae and Felix. My heart flutters when I see it’s from Felix. I didn’t think he’d get back to me so quickly. That must mean he liked my story!

Hi Zia,

Thank you for your email and for being a new fan of The Nerd Word. I read your narrative, and truthfully, I am at a loss for words.

I’m sorry, but I can’t read this out loud to fans… or to anyone, if I’m being honest.

It’s too… risque. That isn’t what my show is about.

I appreciate your interest, though, and I hope you will continue to listen.

-Felix

I huff out an annoyed sound as I stare at my phone screen.

Is this a joke?

I re-read it, thinking I misread it.

I didn’t. Still the same crap.

“Well, that’s fucking disappointing. What a prude!”

I groan as I re-read the email again . I’m not taking no for an answer. I will get this man to speak dirty words to me. I will . I have to. I need to hear them. It’s like a compulsion now. I’ve listened to every episode he has posted, and it isn’t enough. I need more. I need new things… directed right at me. I need his words to be for me.

Felix,

I was thrilled when I saw you responded, but I’ll admit, I’m disappointed with what you had to say. What’s wrong with what I wrote? If you’d like to change a few words to make it sound smarter, feel free. But make sure you leave cock in there. I really enjoy that word, and I think it would sound divine leaving your sensual lips. I guess I can see why you wouldn’t want to read a story directly to me. Other listeners may get jealous. Maybe change it to Dear Listeners instead of Dear Zia ? I’ll know you’re still talking to me, so I won’t mind.

Love, Zia

I hit play on his podcast to start them from the beginning, and I’m giddy when I get a response almost immediately.

Zia,

I mustn’t have been clear in my last email. I apologize for that.

My issue isn’t that it doesn’t sound smart. It was well written. My issue lies with what is written. Especially cock. (It took me a whole minute just to type the word, never mind speaking it out loud.)

I appreciate your interest, but if there are any words that aren’t sexual in nature that you’d like me to speak about, I will certainly do that.

Hope you understand.

-Felix

So he really is a prude. Sexy voice man can’t even say the word cock out loud?

Well, I’m still not taking no for an answer.

Felix,

Fine. I’ll make a deal with you.

Pick a fetish to talk about. Or maybe a kink of some sort. Just something a little sexy. I’ll settle for that.

I’m not opposed to begging for it… *wink, wink*

Love, Zia

There. I offered a deal. I tried to compromise. He better accept.

He answers right away.

Zia,

I’ll do my best.

-Felix

It’s not what I was hoping for, but it’ll have to do.

My stomach rumbles, and I figure it’s time to find something to eat. I head upstairs as I scroll through his podcast, noting he posts only once a week.

Once a week? How the hell will I wait a whole week to hear him speak dirty words to me?

These damn humans and their moralist ways.