I N S A N I T Y / / B o o k 2

ELEVEN

Sometimes to win you've to take a few hits along the way

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Aces tall body looms over Everest's petite one. His tanned skin standing stark against the paleness of her throat. Dark strands falling into even darker eyes, White hair brushed away from the now silver eyes of the Manic.

Everest snarls up at the assassin, slight panic blooming as she witnesses the monster dying men see before their lives are taken, as she is held beneath the shadows that drag you deep into Hell. As her breathing is stopped and lungs clench.

His voice is like a siren in her ears, the sneer that laces his words so strong that even Everest cowers at it.

"Did I ever tell you I like to choke during sex princess?"

The mock reaches the suffocating Everest's ears the same way the trail of blood reaches the bottom of Aces chin. A new sense of panic blooming in her chest as she feels the assassins hand wander down her front, side of his palm carving out the middle of her breasts. Dragging dangerously over her flat stomach before his wanders it up hid own body. Pianists fingers dancing over the waistband of his tracksuit as he drags it down slower than time itself.

Aces eyes don't waver, face doesn't change. Not when Everest's nails dig into his hand locking her windpipe like the silent stone locked her mind. Not when her legs kick up from behind him, knees digging into his back as he watches a deep rooting panic spread over her face.

Silly manic. 

With his hand still holding the waistband, taunting the now seemingly young girl beneath him he leans forward. Perfect teeth glinting over the broken nose, fangs as sharp as ever as the white haired girl gasps at the pressure on her throat, freezing with fear of the events he's insinuating.

"How bout you show me your worth Evy, let's play"

He's done this enough times, killed enough people to be unaffected by the desperate attempts of freedom. Played with enough people's minds to know where to hit, where to pull the trigger. Just like ever girls fear is what a man can do them, just how every mans terror is being brought down by a woman. He knows what they fear, knows what the deep rooted dread is for every man and woman on this planet. It's the same for everyone, Manic or not, Joker or human. They all fear the same things.

When he imagined killing Everest it was never by choking, never something so personal for the girl that holds it all.

The dreams were always of her blood coating his hands, her blackened eyes detached from the gutted body, staring as he digs deeper and deeper to see if the dark blood begins to turn into something darker, something deadlier.

Chocking is too personal, too kind for the manipulative queen beneath him.

No, he wants to take the power from her, wants to rob her of everything she owns. He wants to feel the power leave her body, wants to feel the life leave the Manics as he humanises her. Pins her down and shows her just what the shadows truly are, to take her apart piece by piece until what's left is the 15 year old girl sold to a madman. Until all that's left is a broken soul who needs rebuilding, remoulding.

He isn't going to do what she thinks, no matter how close his hand gets to pulling down the ridiculously short shorts, no matter how convincing his words are to the choking devil.