The 3rd Step- Part 4

A cautionary note to any journeymen and women averted to gore and violence. Please do be careful with this part.

I sat up in his favourite chair, looking over the cluttered desk that made up his workstation. In one corner was the picture of his father. He too had been a P.I. My dearest darling's inspiration. A man of honour and dignity, who had fallen in the line of duty to a petty criminal when we were just seventeen. What a shame. I would have loved to have fought him. Then, when I would have finally subdued him, I would flash him a nice toothy smile as I plunged my knife into his heart. Oh, my very bones were getting flushed with excitement. But enough. Time to focus. My plan was finally coming to fruition.

As I descended the stairs yet again, I could not help but grin. Bloodlust welled up deep inside me, and my eyes began to twinkle. Taking long drags of the cigarette, I lost myself in a world where I killed who I wanted. My darling always chased me, but never got close enough. Oh, if only such a world existed! The beauty of it was almost overwhelming. It sent little tingles down my spine.

Due to this, however, I did not notice when I bumped into Mrs Baker, almost toppling her. She was climbing up the steps with a cup of tea, probably because he had been working so hard these past few days. So kind! So thoughtful! It was for this very reason that I snapped back to reality, while she apologised for not paying attention. All I did was smile at her. A primitive, feral smile. It made her take a step back down, almost making her fall yet again. Good. 

Suddenly my arms shot out, one covering her mouth, the other around her frail neck. I slammed her against the wall, feeling her bones crack under the pressure. Then, I flung her the other way, over the railing and down to the floor. Pretty hard too, I must say. Oh, he would be appalled by this display. Then, he would be enraged. How it made my face flush with excitement! His reactions were always worth it. After all, he was my darling.

These thoughts ran through my mind as I walked down to her jumbled body. So many bones had broken, and so many limbs had twisted, that she seemed like she had been put through the churner. Blood leaked around the bones protruding out of her flesh, dying her favourite carpet a nice scarlet. We always did think it looked a bit dull. But this mangled piece of flesh was still alive, moaning softly since her body could do no more. So, I untangled her and lay her against the wall. Then, I slammed my forehead against hers to bring her back from the shock. Her eyes shot open, wide with fear. They began to dart around like a startled rabbit's until they finally fixated on me. Most probably the hungry smile I had on my face. Unable to do anything, only able to grunt softly and somewhat rhythmically, she lay there as first I cut her forearms. Then, her thighs. One cut on her waist, encircling her hips. And the last one, right along her neck. Six to make a star. Perfectly done.

As I watched the terror engulf her face and the life leave her body, I thought of him. I thought of the man it was all for. The only one who mattered. Darth. Oh, how only uttering his name made our blood boil. A passionate heat came over me, and I called out to him. I reached the darkest, most abysmal recesses of our mind, and I beckoned him to the light. I held his hand and I guided him out again. To stand by my side. For him to know he was not alone.

And as Darth woke up, he saw a bloody sight before his eyes. The sight of one of the sweetest creatures on this planet. And as he recoiled from the shock, he realised he was not alone. It may be all in his head, but he was not alone. 

"Hello there, my dearest Darth. My name is Wraith. Your one and only partner in crime."