Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
He’s getting impatient.
No. Wrong word. He’s afraid of something.
“You think I’m going to say no. Don’t you?”
“Everyone says no. Because I do not lie to them when I ask this question. Why in the world would they ever say yes?”
I throw him a drunken grin and let out a huff of air. Then my hand is on his cheek. He’s very beautiful, actually. And that’s not a word I use for men. “Are you a man?”
“No. I’m a monster. See it, Ryet. I need you to see it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I sigh these words out. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“So?” I step back away from him, extend my arms wide. “Here I am.”
“You haven’t said yes yet.”
“Haven’t I?”
“You’re too drunk. Maybe I should come back tomorrow?”
I look away from him, my vision blurring as I gaze down the dark, empty alley. “I won’t be here tomorrow.”
He lets out a long breath. “And why’s that?”
I look him straight in the eyes. Well, I have to close one of mine to make the double vision go away. And then I look him straight in the eye. “Because I’m going to go home. And I’m going to get a rope.” He puts up a hand, but I keep going. “And I’m going to go into my garage, turn on the car, tie that rope to the rafters, and hang myself. And if, by some chance, I don’t die from the hanging, I will suffocate from the car fumes.”
He frowns at me. “You seem to have thought of everything.”
“I will die. And then I will go to Hell. And I don’t care. I will not live without them. I refuse.” Then I set my jaw, letting him know I’m done.
“But you have still not said yes.”
“Yes.”
“What are you saying yes to?”
“You. Take me. Take my soul. I don’t want to know the God who killed my family. I don’t want to worship Him, or bow to Him, or do His work. I want to kill Him.” I pause here. Because even my drunken self knows I’m crossing a line. And I decide I don’t care. “Will you help me kill Him?”
“Do you even know what I’m offering you?”
I nod. “I heard you. I might be drunk, but I heard you. You will take my soul and make it yours. And in exchange, I will live forever and the memory of them will be gone.”
“Forever is a long time. It’s not forever, Ryet. There are many conditions. You will be mine. You will work for me and do my bidding.”
“Just make the memories go away or I will go home and end it myself.”
He sighs. Like he’s tired. “All right. That’s all I needed. Do you want to know what happens next?”
“No.”
He doesn’t tell me, either. But he moves slowly. So I can mentally keep up, I think. He takes two steps towards me, closing the little distance between us I created when he ordered me to look at him, and then his arms are around me in a hug.
I fall into this hug. Like he is my father. Like his hug is love.
Then he whispers things in my ear. “You’re pretty. You will have a good life with me, I promise. You will live long, and see things that men cannot see. You will walk through dreams, and you will find another way forward. I promise.”
He likes that word ‘promise.’
“I promise, I promise, I promise.” He says it over and over as he kisses my neck and the shivers run up my spine.
Then I feel him open his mouth, the tips of his fangs pressing against the skin on my throat. The pressure, but no pain, as he carefully bites into me.
Immediately, I lose time. I might even fall over.
Not because he’s drinking me, but it just… feels… so good.
Bliss.
I don’t know how long this lasts, but slowly my dismal, blurry, hazy world turns into a lovely golden stream of light shining down on us and I feel energized, and hopeful, and happy.
I pull back, unsure for a moment why I am allowing this man to embrace me.
He’s so beautiful. And he’s looking at me like we’re lovers.
“What the fuck?” It’s weak, and so is my push.
But the man, Paul, puts a finger over my lips and immediately, I stop struggling.
“Be good now, Ryet. We’re almost there. Just one last step.”
I struggle a little, unsure of what I’m doing. But then he bites his lip and blood trickles out. Suddenly, the scent of him fills me up, taking the place of the people I was mourning.
Who were they again?
Who cares?
All I see is Paul. And all I want is his blood.
I suck it off his lips as we kiss, drops at a time when all I want is a flood. “More.” I say this word over and over again. “More, more, more…” I reach for him because I cannot stop myself. All I want is him.