Capturing Bambi

Chapter 1

The smile is long gone and the glare becomes intense, a sadistic grin is plastered on that chiselled face. His eyes act as a curtain to hell, and in his face I see a reflection of the devil.

He wasn't the person smiling moments ago, the layers were all shed and he was no longer the devil in disguise. He was a beast in act and I was his sole audience, his muse and a source of this vile inspiration.

It all clicked a little too late. The beast was out and I was supposed to run. Not now, not in the next few minutes but long before.

I was supposed to flee when he gave me the chance to do so, when he sent me to the kitchen with a stupid request. It wasn't a request, it was an open invitation to flee before the devil made his presence known.

" But I'm not him. " He whispers harshly, like he meant that with every fibre of his being. Like the sole purpose of his existence was that he wasn't him. In every way possible, he wasn't.

Mr. Makrof's face now contorts to a different sort of emotion. The carefree attitude is long gone, a sudden realization is plastered on his face. He undermined the enemy, and now regret is evident on his face.

I can see the blue eyed man cherish the terror on his face with a psychotic sort of smile. Like it's the only sort of happy he's felt. Fear, works wonders for him as he relishes in the scent of terror, all attributing because of him.

" And that's the misery of it all, isn't it? " He spits out, his voice hushed and low. Nonetheless, equally harsh. 

Likes he's telling a tale as old as times. And anyone who hears it, must die. Including me.

A bloodlust settles in his eyes as he looses all touch with his humanity, if it were there to begin with.

In the blink of an eye, a dagger is lodged deep into Mr.Makrof's leg. The dagger is thrusted at a 90 degrees angle, yet I fail to see a strand of obstruction, for it painfully rests in between the human flesh all within the span of a few seconds.

The expensive material is now coated with a crimson red, as a shrill voice intrudes into the environment. The man yells out at the top of his lungs, losing his facade of masculinity and letting the inner coward seep out.

It wasn't the knife that laid the damage, it was the bloodlust of the blue eyed demon.

" Scream one more time, Makrof and my dagger will tear apart the flesh of your balls. " He threatens, the pitch of his voice falling to dangerously low levels.

His warning holds its ground when he grabs the man by his neck like a punny little thing, absolutely worthless.

The fat man carries a lot of mass, yet it goes unmatched when compared to the blue eyed devil's sheer muscle and strength. So he holds control over Mr. Makrof just by a mere hold on his neck.

" Inch by inch. " He completes his threat, but there is no question in Makrof's eyes. For we all know he will do it.

There's no questions left to be asked. Not when it comes to this man.

" Be a man and take it. " He growls, throwing Mr. Makrof right at my feet, as if he weighs nothing.

Though the illusion created by his sheer strength doesn't stay for long. The man's weight is the opposite of a feather as the floor shakes with the harsh throw.

I'm quick to take a step back. My second mistake.

The little movement does not go unnoticed under the eyes of the predator for his gaze lands on me once again.

His eyes scan me, he takes in the terrified look on my face but I can read nothing this time. Unlike before, I sense no pride.

The temperature of the room falls and the cold grabs at my skin. The room feels all too chilly as he becomes a mystery to me. With a stoic face, he gives out nothing. Just those cold eyes observing me from a distance.

Though he's quick to flag out the warning. One step back, and I might be his new prey, the one he's going to enjoy hunting.

The warning settles deep in my head, without him having to say a word about it. His head tilts down to the matter at hands as his gaze lands on Makrof's body who seems to be wailing in pain, all the while trying to control his strained pleas of mercy. But the words seem to escape his tongue effortlessly as he sees his end near.

" Silas....please. " He lets out a painful groan, trying to pull the knife out. Though he miserably fails as it's lodged too deep in his flesh.

" Don't beg me for something I'm not capable of. " The blue eyed man, whose name I just learned to be Silas is quick to correct Makrof, not liking the act itself.

Makrof was asking the devil for mercy, but he had none to begin with.

" It will only hurt a little. What is pain if not pleasure? " He lets out to no one in particular, but I can sense his irises shift utmost right to where I stand, though his head stays focused in the direction of his target.

In his sadistic mind, I can see the knife became his paintbrush, and the man under his feet, the canvas. And from there on, I see him redefine art, painting a tragedy of it own.

That is it for today!

Why do you think Silas decided to kill the man?

A) Because he was gawking Arabella?
B) Because the man crossed him by being arrogant and egoistic?

How do you like the male lead's name? I couldn't write because I was struggling with finding the perfect name.

Also, I need your opinion. Should I change the title to 'Hunting Bambi' or is ' Capturing Bambi' alright? Hunting Bambi has a more scary vibe to it.

Anyway, this is it for today. Next update on Wednesday!

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