21. Elijah

I love watching people die.

By my hands or their own.

Lately, forcing people to end their own lives has been my ‘kink,’ as Rain would say. She also insists that curb stomping is another.

It’s not that.

As my boot hits the back of a person’s head, I breathe out as my body relaxes into it. The skull and bones cracking put me into a trance as the blood splatters around me. Seeing tiny white chiclets against the dark floor or concrete stimulates my mind. The contrast is art.

When I forced my mother to walk backward into the fire, she did it. She didn’t fight back or attempt to save herself. She just fucking did it. That fascinated me.

It made me wonder if others were the same. I’ve been curious ever since.

Typically, those I kill plead, beg, and cry for mercy. They try to bargain with me. It never works because I couldn’t give a fuck. But it’s me who kills them each time. Never have I given them the gun and said, ‘shoot yourself,’ until my mother.

With each step backward, she knew it was coming. The flames would engulf her, melting her skin and burning her alive.

She didn’t move out of the way, she kept going until she tripped backward into the bright orange flame.

I still hear her screams, if the memory ever comes to mind. The distinct smell of her flesh filling the cave. I was satisfied. I was excited. My mind and eyes were captivated by it all.

And I’ve wanted to do it again ever since.

When we walked in here tonight, I got an idea.

Her endgame. Francesca.

It was planned in my head before we ever entered this room. Envisioning it as we walked up the stairs. As the Elders watched us from the balcony, their entertainment for the evening.

Rain places my rabbit mask over my head, leaving it on my forehead so as not to cover my face yet. Her chain is still in my hand, I never let it go as I removed the grater from the diseased cunt.

As a child, I never liked Francesca.

I never liked anyone, and I still don’t outside of Rain and my dad. But she is a particular breed that irritates me to no end. She’s always begged for attention. This was just another one of those situations. And unfortunately for her, I was the one to give it to her.

Her dad—my uncle—is my dad’s younger brother. He is a Disciple, just like me. As my dad is the oldest, he assumed the position of Elder for our family. Which will be passed down to me one day. And I’ll make sure my little bat joins me. Then, after us, the line will die. The rabbit will be retired and a new family will be inducted in.

Rubbing the cool metal between my fingers, I take in the sight before me once more. My little bat did so fucking good. Rogers must have been the one responsible for setting this room up, along with my dad. The choke pear for her was the perfect addition alongside the other antiques she likes.

“Should we leave it in or take it out?” My gaze wanders up her body. Bare legs, the white high-waisted skirt, to the white tight crop top, and her dark hair which is perfectly chaotic. Her makeup is smudged, screaming that she’s been freshly fucked. But I couldn't give a shit. It only marks my claim more if people could see her without the mask.

Her eyes look up to the ceiling as she thinks, her teeth biting her bottom lip. “I want to keep it. Memories of tonight.” I nod and turn my attention back to Francesca.

Placing my hand on the top of her head, I apply pressure to keep it still as I grip the key of the choke pear. Not bothering to turn it backward, I decide to pull it out of her mouth as it is, fully open.

“Last chance. Join The Exodus by marrying a Pawn and becoming one by default. Keep your filthy mouth shut and fall into place. You will never be a Disciple despite your bloodline. Simply a Pawn, who once we are done with, you will be disposed of. Not even your own father gives a shit about what we are doing with you right fucking now. Your role would be simple. As a whore who spreads her legs plenty now, you would simply continue doing it with a gag in your mouth. But since my little bat has broken your jaw, perhaps the gag won’t be necessary anymore.”

Unable to respond, I take that as a no to my final offer and yank on the choke pear. The metal hits the back of her teeth, it rings heavenly in my ears. I pull again, and this time I hear a few cracks. Then once more. The choke pear comes flying out. My own momentum nearly knocks me backward. Her front teeth are chipped along with her canines and a few on the bottom. The familiar sound of screams and pain follow, no longer muffled.

Passing the pear to Rain, I say, “Leave it here, Rogers will collect it for you.”

Walking the short distance, she places it on the shelf, then asks, “Can we keep all the others? I never got a chance to try them out.” Her voice is cute and sad all at once.

“Yes.”

Her hands clap together, excited. Turning around, her eyes are wide with the biggest smile on her face. Racing over to me, she leaps into my lap and starts kissing my cheeks and lips in quick succession.

I can hear her nose scraping along the mask's edge before, breathlessly, she whispers against my skin, “Thank you.”

This is the only state she should ever be in—happy.

Looking over her shoulder, I take in the sorry excuse of a woman on the floor.

“You wanted attention. Here it is. Now it’s time for your final performance.”

Fucking traitor.