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asclxve · 3 days

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Two Faced

So this is a small short story I wrote for a class, thought I'd share it here :3

It's not a light-hearted story, it gets dark and gruesome. This is your only warning.

✦

Beep.

Be-

Thud.

A bronze hand flew out from under the mountainous covers, smacking the nightstand rather lazily until the alarm that destroyed the peaceful morning sleep was silenced and pierced the ears of the sleeping Half-Fae. Soon after, a soft groan and some rustling filled the air, and not long after, Klara Callia sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and the dull feeling of a jackhammer pounding in her temples. Perhaps the extra margarita was not the best of choices now, but at the time she was simply celebrating closing one of the more difficult cases she and Emric had for the last year, among the hundreds that scampered across her desk.

The Viper Killer, a rather fit man sired from an ancient line of Greek Gorgons, had finally been caught just the morning before, though not alive by Emric’s hand. He had left behind a dreadful amount of bloodied, petrified bodies, 28 to be exact. She had gotten quite lucky that her ability allowed her to memorize the features of the vicious serial killer and create a sketch. When his face was matched in the database, off she and Emric went to gather a team to capture the man. The chase only ended after the killer ran into the busy street and was met with a heavy charter bus.

The Viper Killer was now a thing of the past, and that warranted a night of dance and margaritas with her team.

Despite the dull aches of her temples, she got herself up and out of her safe, cozy cocoon of blankets and padded over to her bathroom and get herself ready for a new day: shower, skincare, do her hair, and light round of makeup. 30 minutes and she found herself standing in front of her closet, choosing a more business casual outfit than she normally would wear: a soft, blue, satin blouse with fitted black slacks and a pair of comfortable yet work-appropriate boots, not to mention her gun and holster and her FBI creds. When all was said and done, Klara reached for her bag, wallet, and keys, and off she went to her favorite cafe, Miss Taffy’s Coffee and Diner.

Miss Taffy was an Unseelie Fae, and a kind but stern one at that. It was quite rare to find full-blooded Fae that weren’t immediately red flags walking, especially ones like Miss Taffy who made it her business, literally speaking, to create a safe space with food everyone would enjoy. And Klara was most definitely a loyal customer.

Her morning was just about as routine as it could’ve been as soon as Klara stepped foot inside the cafe, the smell of fresh elderberry croissants and blueberry muffins wafting through her nose. It reminded her of her Papa’s homemade elderberry pastries in a way. Miss Taffy stood behind the counter, stocking the display window when Klara walked in, the first customer of the day as usual.

“Klara Callia, my sweet, good morning. Your aura is glowing today, have you got good news for me?” Miss Taffy asked, her mixed Welsh-British accent soft and elegant.

“Good morning, Miss Taffy. I do, The Viper Killer is officially gone from the streets,” Klara replied, smiling kindly as she stood before the register.

“Ah, that is splendid news! Would you like your usual order or something more rewarding?” Miss Taffy exclaimed, clasping her hands together as she joined Klara at the register.

“My usual coffee please, but throw in one of the elderberry croissants please,” Klara asked, smiling warmly.

“Of course, my dear. Now, how are you and Mr. Emric?” Miss Taffy hummed, ringing Klara up while she put together her order.

“Oh, Miss Taffy, I’ve told you before, Ric and I are just partners. Would I lie to you?” Klara mused, chuckling softly. Klara couldn’t lie even if she wanted to, her Irish Fairy side made it impossible.

“Like you could even if you wanted to,” Miss Taffy snorted, handing her a steaming cup of coffee and a bag with two elderberry croissants. “Send my love to Emric, would you?”

“Always, Miss Taffy, have a good one!” Klara replied, turning to the door and bumping into someone. “Oh, I’m so so-”

Screaming. Pain-filled, torturous screaming.

Let me go!! Please let me go!!

Blood splattering, cries of anguish, and raw-fire-searing pain in the shape of a lunar crescent with an arrow.

Please, I won’t tell anyone, PLEASE!!

Hello, Klara Callia. Come find me. Come find ME.

✧

Her hands shook as she came out of her car, parked at a dead body scene in the parking lot of the club they were at just the night before. Never has a memory of another shaken her up so horribly. Most don’t even know of that kind of ability, let alone actively acknowledge her inside of it. She couldn’t shake the sound of the raspy, distorted voice. Couldn’t shake the sight of the cloaked figure where the only thing she could see was how tall the figure was. It wasn’t normal. No one ever sought her out, no one ever-

“K.C., over here!” Klara was pulled from her spiraling thoughts, putting an impassive expression on her face as she walked quietly over to Emric, who stood with a pair of fresh blue gloves.

“Might want to put them on now. Victim has Elven blood, and I know it doesn’t exactly feel great to Fae skin if memory serves correctly,” Emric hummed, amusement in his tone despite the seriousness of his expression.

“It was my first month, I liked the short-sleeved blouse I had on, and you had yet to inform me of the victim’s species race if I recall correctly,” Klara deadpanned, shaking her head while tugging on the blue gloves. She still had the scar of where the dead Elf’s blood had burned her arm. “What do we know?”

“Victim’s name is Eldra Poppet, she was missing for two weeks before her discovery today by Mr. Hendrik. Remember him?” Emric replied, studying Klara’s expression. Of course, she remembered him, she wasn’t fond of him. He kept trying to infuse Fae Grape Wine into her margaritas the night before to “loosen her up,” despite knowing the effects it would have.

“Of course. You interviewed him yet?”

“Not yet, wanted to survey the scene first before that. Reeks of metal though.”

“Know what kind?”

“Best guess? Iron.” Klara was afraid of that. She took a slight step away from the body.

“Hope you brought that Epi-pen from hell.”

“Haha. Just means I can’t touch the body, Ric.”

“Sure you can, you got the gloves.” Klara rolled her eyes at the teasing smirk on her partner’s face, the brat.

“Not how that works. You don’t hear me telling you how to turn into Wolfy now?” Klara shot back jokingly.

“Thought we agreed not to call my wolf side Wolfy?” Emric huffed, shaking his head. He crouched down beside the body, scanning it and cocking his head slightly to the right. “K.C., there’s a branding here.”

“What kind?” Klara peered over his shoulder to try and get a better look.

“It looks… like…a lunar crescent with an arrow through the middle.” All the color left Klara’s face.

Blood splattering, cries of anguish and raw-fire searing pain in the shape of a lunar crescent with an arrow.

“K.C.? Hey, what’s wrong?” Emric stood up, immediately trying to get a read on her. “You’ve seen this before? Where?”

“Just…just before I got here today, I went to Miss Taffy’s. I bumped into someone and got…got a memory that wasn’t mine. A girl, Half-Fae like me, tortured to hell being branded on her thigh with that exact branding,” Klara said weakly, glancing up at Emric with a worried expression. She could see his eyes, could see his heart drop.

“Did I just bump into the killer, Emric?”

✧

Klara pinned the last red string to her board, having connected Eldra Poppet to a two-month-old case, the death of Licissa Henry, who was a jaguar shifter that was so scarred and burned (with what Emric later smelled was silver) that she was hardly recognizable anymore. Among the scars and burns was a very familiar lunar branding that they had failed to notice at first. Klara swore every Spanish cuss word when she spotted the branding, wondering how she hadn’t noticed it before.

Emric went over the details of each case, trying to get a read on their killer’s behavior, but it was erratic to not just Emric and Klara, but to their team as well. It didn’t make sense.

Licissa was doing grocery shopping for her family when she disappeared, with only an email that she was going on a weekend getaway with her mate. Licissa’s mate, Julian, was overseas in Japan, leading a huge design conference.

Eldra never went out unless necessary. She even had her groceries delivered. According to her mother, she had massive trust issues to the point of even working from home. And yet when her parents went to visit her, her home was clean and she had vanished into thin air, with no note or email. Just poof.

The only thing these girls had in common was their age. Both were 26 years old, just like Klara.

She would’ve sat down to pour over the files if she didn’t get a call from Emric to meet her by the old warlock warehouse by the river. That made her heart drop into her stomach. She didn’t need to hear him say there was a body, she could just tell by the tone of his grave voice.

Twenty minutes later, she stood before the very girl she witnessed being tortured in that memory. Iridescent eyes that once sparkled were now cloudy, and dull. Pale, clear skin was now marred by iron burns, slashes across her torso, the lunar crescent branding on her thigh, and…

And on her arm, when Klara crouched down and carefully turned the girl’s wrist in a gloved hand, read in Fae Runes: See you soon, my dear Klara Callia.

“K.C., what does it say?” Emric asked, studying her expression and spotting the subtle signs of recognition in her golden eyes.

“Fae Runes. Irish Fairy ones to be specific,” Klara swallowed. “It says ‘See you soon, my dear Klara Callia.’” She was expecting swearing or even a sigh. She wasn’t expecting the harsh snarl and to be yanked up by her arms to her feet and tugged away from the body as if it were ablaze.

“You mean this psycho is targeting you now? Tell me the rest of that memory, Klara, now.”

“What’s her name?”

“What?”

“Her name, Ric.” Klara nodded to the victim who lay before them.

“Myra Lily Blackwell. Why?”

“Because Myra was in the memory.” Emric let Klara go, studying her expression again with his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Everything, Klara.”

“A few weeks ago, I bumped into someone while leaving Miss Taffy’s. I got hit with… by this figure, cloaked from head to toe, the only thing I could discern was his height. He had her chained to the wall with iron shackles, slashing her, whipping her, branding her… it was one of the worst memories I’ve ever gleaned from someone by far, Ric.”

“Do you remember who you bumped into?” Emric asked, cupping her face with gloveless hands to get her to focus on him. He could see her eyes dulling as she spoke.

“No. No, they were gone before the memory was even done playing out,” Klara swallowed, looking at him. “But it was Myra Lily in that memory, Ric. I saw him torturing her. And at the end…”

“What, K.C.? What did he do?”

“Not what he did, what he said. He told me to come find him.” Emric frowned, pulling away to look back at Myra Lily’s body.

“Right. You’re going back to the office, I can do the interviews.”

“Ric, I can do this!”

“You’re called out by name by this fool, K.C., I’m not taking any damn chances. Go back to the office, look for more patterns, and write the memory down. I’ll do the interviews and meet with you there, okay?”

“I’m fine-”

“Your eyes are glazing over on me. Go.” K.C. studied his expression silently before reluctantly doing as told, and heading back to the office.

Yet, she felt as though someone was watching her the whole time.

✧

A slow descent into madness. Into obsession, they called it. But Klara wouldn’t call it an obsession. She’d call it determination…

…Though she wouldn’t say it aloud.

Myra Lily was from a High Fae Court family, the Nature Court from Greece, despite only being Half-Fae, Half-Dryad specifically. Klara had a rather uncomfortable discussion over the phone as she was the only Fae in the department capable of communicating with them. Mama’s insistence that she learn most of the different Fae languages was paying off in this instance.

After promising she’d find who caused their daughter such a painful death, she hung up, tacking her memory description to the wall under Myra Lily’s picture alongside interview notes Emric had passed her three weeks earlier the day after they discovered Myra Lily’s body.

A blunt person who was an absolute busybody was what they could gather from the interviews. Myra Lily deemed herself someone who must know everything just to use it against other people, according to her parents. She was a snake according to her roommate. And yet…

Klara had seen her room. The small affirmations taped to her mirror signaled the self-esteem issues she had. The extensive journals in different shelves based on their use: the top shelf was for food tracking, the middle shelf was for personal diaries, bottom shelf was for tracking her moods and her day-to-day schedules; they all told Klara she needed to be the one in control. The writings of her diary were filled with rants, some of the pages stained with tears, that was not a person who would purposely blackmail others, that would be a snake of some kind.

Klara noted all of that as she stared at the board. She could only see two similarities among the victims: all of them were 26 and branded with that mocking, horrid branding of a lunar crescent with an arrow…

Frustrating, infuriating, tiring.

That’s all Klara could think of when she viewed this case. Even if she took a break from it to give consults to other cases, she kept thinking of this one…

…

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Screaming. Pain-filled, torturous screaming…

Let me go!! Please let me go!!

Blood splattering, cries of anguish and raw-fire searing pain in the shape of a lunar crescent with an arrow…

Please, I won’t tell anyone, PLEASE!!

“Hey, K.C., I brought food…K.C.?”

Screams. Pain-filled, terror-raising screams…

Please, please let me go!! I won’t tell anyone, please just let me go!!

Gargled gagging turning into spitting…

Flailing arms…

“K.C., can you hear me?”

Stabbing, slashing, gargling and spitting…

Pain screaming turning into weak cries…

“Earth to K.C.”

Hello, Klara Callia, come find ME!

“Klara!” The memory fizzled out and in came the vision of her partner staring at her worriedly, holding food with…a pale man standing behind him matching his worried expression.

“Ah, sorry Ric, didn’t hear you come in. Who’s your friend…?”

“Ah, this is Sean Washington. The vampire CEO is helping us with that vampire coven killing case. Here,” Emric explained, setting a cup of coffee in front of her. “Miss Taffy says hi, by the way.”

“Oh- I’m so sorry, Mr. Washington, I completely forgot you were coming,” she apologized, sipping the coffee to give her some energy.

“Nonsense, Agent Fuentes, you were preoccupied,” Sean said warmly, smiling as his sharpest canines gleamed in the light. “Agent Kingston said you two had a moment to get my statement?”

“Yes, of course, let me get a pen and paper. I believe I have some blood candies in my drawer if you’d like one?”

“That’s alright, dear, I had my batch this morning. Miss Taffy makes the most lovely bloody tea,” Sean chuckled. His accent was nice to listen to, Klara found. She must be really out of it today.

They spent twenty minutes getting his statement before she noticed his eyes. They were bright, resembling the sky in the intensity of the blue within them. And they felt familiar somehow…

“Well, that should be everything. Thanks for coming down, Mr. Washington,” Emric announced, snapping Klara out of her stupor.

“No, thank you, Agents. I despair at the thought of not being able to help keep trust and keep the community safe,” Sean replied, shaking his hand firmly.

Klara didn’t shake his hand at first, and at his confusion, she said kindly, “It’s your rings, sir. They’re made of iron, I’m quite allergic to them and any residue they leave behind.”

“Ah, of course, my apologies. Have a blessed day, Emric, and Klara Callia,” Sean nodded, smiling as he soon left. She liked a little too much the feel of the name from his mouth, but…it still felt familiar.

✧

“You’re obsessed!”

“I am not obsessed with wanting to find the psychopath responsible for these deaths!” Klara was standing toe to toe with Emric, staring furiously into the eye of her partners. Her golden eyes glowing with fury, while his brown eyes were filled with frustration.

“You have not looked at another case properly in weeks, Klara! You’re losing sleep, and barely eating! We are nowhere near solving this one, and you’re driving yourself mad trying to piece together things that don’t make sense!”

“I am not!”

“Maybe we should pass it off.”

“No. No! We are not passing off something that took almost four months of work, Emric!”

“You’re obsessed with this psycho! Need I remind you of his sadistic ways?!” Emric jerked an arm pointed at their board, with a new victim on it. Kelsey Jones, a vampire discovered by her mother, Lydia, and Sean Washington, who had consoled Lydia and looked positively green at the sight of Kelsey.

Shortly after, he asked Klara on a date, which she had kept postponing. Klara knew she was growing obsessed with this killer, whom the media dubbed Thanatos for his many methods of torturing and killing his victims. Klara hated that nickname. This killer was far from a Greek God, especially one known for collecting people after they had passed. It was distasteful.

“Obsessed with a sadistic psychopath that leaves his victims like this?!” Klara practically shrieked, her nails sharpening and hair growing longer for a split second before she took a deep breath. “What, pray tell, do you propose then?”

“We need a break before we claw each other’s eyes out over this case,” Emric said sternly. Klara narrowed her eyes in silence at him, Emric staring at her back. Silence descended…

“I’m not obsessed.”

“I taught you how to profile, Klara. You’re obsessed.”

✧

“I was getting worried we’d never meet,” Sean chuckled, sitting across the table from Klara, looking delicious in a tight-fitted blue dress shirt and slacks. Klara chuckled, her dark red dress matching the color of wine in her glass as she took a sip.

“Work troubles. More gruesome than you’d like to hear, no doubt,” Klara admitted.

“Ah yes, I’ve been meaning to ask, have you found any leads on Kelsey? Lydia has just been so melancholy, I’d love to be able to tell her something,” Sean asked, sipping his Bloody Mary.

“I can’t discuss details of a case with you, unfortunately. What I can say is it’s been a difficult one to follow,” Klara admitted with a sad smile.

“Pity…though I supposed your hands are tied,” Sean chuckled. Klara tilted her head at him.

“Odd choice of words, Sean.”

“Are they?” he mused, sipping his drink with a warm smile. “It was a quip. I remember seeing the board. You work yourself too hard, luv.”

“...I guess I have. Ric thinks I’m obsessed..”

“Are you?” Klara felt defensive almost immediately, but…Sean wasn’t asking to mock. He seemed genuinely curious.

“I…suppose I am,” she said finally. Sean set his glass down and leaned slightly against the table, giving her his full attention.

“What made you so intrigued?”

“How…erratic and yet so consistent this person is. The torture is different across the board and yet the only pieces that align are the brand marks and the ages. At least for the first three, I’m not quite sure how vampire aging works.”

“Born vampires age as everyone else does. Turn vampires have two ages, the international age if you will, and the age they have from the moment they are turned. Say a 15-year-old was turned, then they’d have 15 years of age internationally, but be considered a mere fledgling, a toddler almost in that sense amongst the vampire community,” Sean explained.

“And Kelsey?”

“Was a born vampire.” Klara mulled it over in thought, smiling softly. They changed the topic eventually, moving on to Sean’s work while they ate and refilled their drinks. Klara felt warm, though she chalked it up to the wine she had drank through the night.

When their evening was over and the bill was paid (by Sean of course), Sean held his arm out, walking her to the parking lot that was sparsely populated at best.

“I must say, I had a splendid evening, dearest,” Sean mused. Klara smiled, though the warmth through her began to feel sort of… fuzzy.

“Yes, I had a wonderful time. We ought to do this more often,” she replied. The sight of her car felt rather far…and hazy…

“Yes, but it’s a shame we won’t be able to, my dear Klara Callia.” Huh?

“Wu…what?” This feeling, she’s felt it before. She thought back to the wine… Fae Grape Wine. She grasped onto his hand, weaker than she would’ve liked, and the memory of Myra Lily bombarded her senses yet again, then of Kelsey… Only her words were different. Oh no…

“Sean… Sean, what is this?” She asked.

“Oh but it’s not Sean, Klara Callia,” he said sweetly, but his face unfocused in her vision as she stumbled over her feet. “What was it that sweet Kelsey called me?”

“Tha…Thanatos, you’re not..not ge…” Klara couldn’t get the words out, losing her balance and slowly beginning to lose consciousness. Sean caught her, smirking down at her finally.

“Sweet Klara Callia, my name is Blair Blayney. And I do believe I have you.”

✧

Ache. Ache seeped through to her hands, her feet, her muscles, bones, down to the very core of her soul.

She strained her ears to listen, her eyes uncooperative. I hate Fae Wine…

She never drank it. To anyone with an inkling of humanity, it’s no better than a date rape drug. To full-blooded Fae, it’s no better than a beer on a Saturday night.

“Klara Callia, I know you’re awake, my dear.” Sean’s sultry voice floated over her ears. “I can hear your little heartbeat quickening ever so slightly.”

She swallowed quietly as she finally got to pry her eyes open…to a guest room. A guest room?

Her arms weren’t tied down. Her head felt like she was just fighting off a hangover. She felt…okay. Except you’re not okay.

Sean…No, Blair sat across from her bed, smirking with his arms crossed. “Welcome home, Klara Callia.”

“Sean…” she said slowly, mouth feeling like cotton as she struggled to sit up.

“Tsk tsk. Memory failing you already?” The vampire shook his head, standing over her and bending down just close enough to her face. “That’s not my name, darling. What’s my name?”

“..’s…It’s Blair. Blair Blaney.” She managed to get her words together, more coherent…But why? Why did he do this?

“Excellent, very well done. I typically don’t use Fae Wine. It’s sticky, too sparkling, like the Twilight vampires.” Blair stood up, smiling at her sweetly, kindly. Like the day he gave his statement. Like how he smiled last night earlier in the date…

“You’d be the only person to ever see my home, darling. Your little…what did your partner call it? Ah yes, obsession. Your little obsession with me caught my eye, Klara Callia,” Blair continued, his kind, warm smile starting to feel sinister.

“It wasn’t an obsession,” she argued weakly, but it only made him throw his head back, carefree laughter falling from his full lips as if she simply made a joke. But this wasn’t funny…

“Tell me, Klara Callia, that seeing my masterpieces didn’t send a rush through your spine. That you weren’t frustrated that you couldn’t connect me to the bodies. That Myra Lily’s screams don’t paint your every thought?” Blair’s voice was smooth as he approached her. He watched her every move with amusement. He watched her swallow, watched gold eyes watching his every move. Breathe… just breathe…you can make it outside...

“Oh sweet Klara Callia. You’re not going anywhere.”

She watched the Cheshire cat grin form, and her heart dropped. She had only heard rumors but…

“Yes, my dear.” He tilted her head up gently by the chin, his thumb trailing from her cheek to her lips.

“I can hear every. little. thought,” he whispered, smiling warmly as the color drained from her face.

✧

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

“Shut up.”

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Toc-

“Shut up.”

Tick.

To-

Klara flung the closest object in reach to the nearby clock, breaking the glass and knocking it off the wall. Time lost all meaning to her by now, and the incessant tick-tock frayed what little sanity she had.

Blair would come in, sweet-talk her as though he hadn’t laced her drinks with Fae Wine, feed her elderberries grown directly from the Unseelie gardens, and watch her struggle to wrap her mind around him. He’d cup her face and watch her eyes glaze over as the memories of Myra Lily, of Licissa, of Kelsey flood her brain until she blacked out. He’d watch her anxiety and fear build until she’d shut down, then tuck her back into bed. And they’d do it over again. And again. And again.

But…it was a pattern just for her. She picked up on it. He’d do so in the evening, always before she had to sleep. In the morning, he’d dress her up in the softest dresses, feed her proper meals that wouldn’t drug her, and let her roam the house and read. He treated her kindly.

And yet that didn’t change the psychological torture she endured every night. Didn’t change that her service was dead so Emric couldn’t ping her phone. Didn’t change the fact that he still managed to outsmart her and now she was here.

Sitting across from him at the dining room table.

Watching his smirk as he sipped a wine glass full of blood while hers was a simple sparkling cider.

Swallowing a gulp of the drink as he studied her blank expression, every movement, her every thought.

“Klara Callia, you are to be quite a long-time guest of mine,” he finally spoke, setting his wine glass on the table. She mimicked the actions, holding his gaze.

“And what, pray tell, could you possibly tell me that would make me not wish to throw myself out the first given window?” she retorted, crossing her arms.

“Well, for starters, dearest, the windows are coated in iron, so you wouldn’t last very long,” Blair replied wryly, enjoying the irritated look on Klara’s face that turned into one of wariness. “And you’ll come to see that what I’m doing is more fun than wasting before a board of victims.”

“I highly doubt that you torturing them and then branding their dead bodies as if they were cattle. Blair, you think I’d ever be like you? A falsely good man?” she sneered back at him. It was the truth, and yet her tongue prickled like she had just eaten a pair of Fae-grown berries.

Blair stood and walked to her with each step. His bright blue eyes reminded her of being on the other side of a predator shifter. Then again, Blair was a kind of predator, but the worst kind of predator out there. “I think, little Klara Callia, that you will be at my side. That you will turn in those credentials and watch as I torture them as you put it.”

“I’d rather live off Fae Wine the rest of my damn life,” she growled at him.

“That, Klara Callia, can be arranged.”

✧

“Stop!! Stop it!!” Klara broke, the memory of the most recent victim, Millicent Leroy, bouncing through her skull like a ricochet of bullets. Blair grinned maliciously, dark clothes bloody, some of it smeared across her cheek.

“Oh but we’ve only just begun, darling,” he sneered back, gripping her chin. Not forcefully, never forcefully.

“You rip more and more of my sanity away, you make me-”

“Enjoy it? Am I feeding your obsession with my work?” he interrupted. I am not obsessed. I am not obsessed. I am not obe-

“Technicalities don’t make good lies, Klara Callia,” he tutted, booping her nose.

“But I’m not obsessed!”

“And yet here you are. Unrestrained, letting me use your power against you,” Blair replied, smirking again.

“I don’t enjoy it. I am not obsessed with…with…”

“If you’re not upset, say it. Ver. Ba. Tim.”

Klara couldn’t do it. She couldn’t force the words out. Because you know he’s right.

No. No, he’s not right. I am not obsessed.

“Pity. We could’ve ended this session early,” he murmured, degloving his hands, cupping her face, sending her headfirst into the blood-curdling screams of Millicent Leroy once again.

✧

I am not obsessed.

He’s torturing them for fun.

For games.

I am not obsessed.

I am not obsessed…

The daily mantra, as she was forced to watch news of her disappearance, did little to ease her anxiety. The daily mantra, as she went through the motions of her new routine, did little to make her fully believe the opposite.

The daily mantra, Klara realized, was slowly starting to become more difficult to repeat to herself. That terrified her more than the psychotic vampire holding her hostage within what she gathered was his private estate.

He gave her enough free rein to watch the news, but the phones had iron residue, preventing her from calling anyone. She could cook, but only from the pantries that didn’t have clovers or iron residue. Otherwise, it was the daily getting up, brushing her teeth, dressing, eating, lying in boredom or watching TV, eating, going back to her room, showering, then enduring hours upon hours of her ability forcing her to relive the violent memories that she could only escape from in her sleep.

It was infuriating.

It was exhausting.

It was…

Klara wasn’t sure how it was anymore.

✧

“Say it. Word for word, say it,” Blair growled against her, Klara was pinned to the ground under him as she tried to fight him. Her nails had grown and left sharp, jagged scarring across his cheek and nose.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction! I’m not ob…I’m not…argh!”

In a moment of fury, she managed to shove him off, her dark curls lengthening, her nails sharpening, appearing to be so angrily ethereal to Blair. He barked out a laugh.

“Tell me the truth, Klara Callia Fuentes-Sweeny! Tell me the truth!” he howled in crazed laughter.

“I’m not ob- I’m not-”

“Fae can’t lie, no matter how much humanity resides in you,” he mocked. Klara was seeing red now, swiping and adding another cut to his face. It only encouraged his mocking.

“Tell me the truth,” he commanded, eyes flashing with mirth, his hands catching her claws, restricting her again. “Irish Fairy, I forbid you to outfox me!”

That little sentence sealed her fate. The words bubbled out before she could even try to swallow them back down.

“Your sessions intrigue me. You…You feed my obsession in ways I didn’t know,” she grunted out, trying so hard to make them go back into the forbidden box that she deemed dangerous.

“And?” he prodded, giving a malicious grin.

“And you…you making me see the kills over…and over…”

“Only makes that obsession grow larger than your control,” he finished for her, watching her features return to normal as the tears filled her eyes out of frustration.

“You broke me.”

“Oh no, Klara Callia. I never broke you.” He bent down to her ear, relishing in her body involuntarily stiffening.

“I released you.”

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