Then, agonizing anger began to crawl up into your veins like a parasite, clouding your mind and making you itch, like you needed to do something, like you needed to kill something now.
Alastor, breathing heavily and still smiling, stood up from the body and twirled his knife around in his hand. "Well that was definitely relieving," he said, and then, standing in front of you, held the knife out for you to take. "Your turn."
You could only stare at him, your entire body shaking with anger and fear and terror and anguish, but not towards Alastor and his actions, but because of that little voice in the back of your head that made you realize that Alastor's actions were justifiable.
Alastor's eyes narrowed upon your form. Just then, Gina began to walk up, letting out a cry. She came to life, her head bobbing around as she took in her surroundings again. You looked at her, and then looked back at a blood-soaked Alastor.
He licked some blood on his wrist. and then made a face. "Bitter." He grinned, nodding his head to Gina on the floor, who was gradually beginning to sit up. Your heart fluttered violently in your chest like a swarm of angry hornets. "Want to give her a taste, my dear?"
As if mind-controlled, you slowly nodded and took the knife from Alastor's hands. It'll feel so good, [Y/N]. Remember all those times you'd dreamt of killing Caden before? About poisoning him, dismembering him, cutting his head off with nothing but a kitchen knife. The little voice returned, stronger than ever, and merging with your normal thoughts until they became synchronized, until they became one. You've killed plenty of his mistresses before, said the voice. What's one more? It'll feel amazing. Alastor would love you for it.
Clutching the knife more securely, you turned around and started to slowly walk towards Gina.
"No, no, pleaseeee!" she screeched. She couldn't breathe, choking on her own saliva. Slowly, her gaze fell upon Caden's mutilated and bloody body. "Oh my fuck!" The blonde girl began to hyperventilate.
You clicked your tongue, something familiar, something from your human life that you missed oh-so-dearly, washing over you and taking control.
"Is that anyway to talk, bitch?" you said with a sinister grin. You heard Alastor laugh insanely behind you, looking at you like you were some sort of goddess. "How did it feel, you dumb fucking slut? How did it feel to fuck him knowing all the girls he's raped? How did it feel to kiss him knowing the next morning he'd beat the shit out of you for simply breathing?"
"What?" she shrieked, genuinely bewildered. Ignoring her, you picked her up from the ground by her throat, shoving her harshly against the wall, knocking over some decor in the process. "No, please!"
You laughed, really laughed, right in her face. "You know how many of you stupid cunts I've killed before? All of you deserve death for fucking that sick bastard knowing what kind of person he is!"
"I know.. y-you," she managed out, gasping for air. "Y-You're the one he-he-he was accused of raping... right? In... In high s-school...?"
"Yeah," you scoffed bitterly. "But it wasn't a rumor, bitch. Everyone knew that. Yet girls just kept deciding to date him anyway. Even my own friends." You held the hunting knife to her throat, and her breath hitched. "See you in Hell, bitch."
And then you slit her throat, enjoying the feeling of her blood spurting all over your face, all over your hands. You grunted in anger each time you dug the blade into her little body, over and over and over and over and over again, enjoying the relief of watching the life leave her body, relishing in the feeling of having control over another person's existence.
When you were done, you let her drop to the floor beside her hell-spawn of a fucking boyfriend, and took your spot beside Alastor, who couldn't stop smiling. He was laughing lowly, the sound a grumbled in his throat.
The two of you were both drenched in blood and breathing heavily and slowly. Alastor turned to look at you.
"Ah... ah... Well, little fawn," he said in admiration. You faced him, your face expressionless, unreadable, and soaked in blood. "...I'm impressed. I knew you could do it."
Your heart jumped from his praise. "It was nothing," you said in slight annoyance, but you were flattered.
There was a tension in the air, and the scent of iron-smelling blood was all you could smell, and it smelled delicious. Your gaze fell upon Alastor's neck, which was covered in Caden's blood.
Alastor noticed your looking at the blood on his neck and grinned wider. "Try it. Taste it." Your heart thumped in your head, your ears, your chest, your entire body. Alastor's teeth caught his bottom lip.
You pushed Alastor against the wall, pressing your shorter body into his. In a daze, you began to lick on his neck, your hot tongue going up and down the surface. He moaned softly, his hands finding your back and sliding down to your ass.
You had no idea what the fuck you were doing. One second, you were yourself, and the next, you were the old you. And all it took was reuniting with the abusive piece of rotting shit you used to call your significant other. And a little motivation from Alastor. God. Look what that fucking sadistic psychopath turned me into.
You swirled your tongue around, sucking and kissing and nibbling on Alastor's neck to drink the blood coating his skin, indulging in the pleasurable feeling of being able to not only watch your ex get murdered, but also being able to violate his death by drinking his own fucking blood. It was... delightful.
You found Alastor's sweet spot and he whimpered in pleasure as you latched your sharp canines onto the spot, drawing his own blood mixed in with your ex's. You drank from him hungrily, eyes clouded over with lust and confusion and anger and hurt and everything, and the only thing you could think about was Alastor, Alastor, Alastor...
"[Y/N]... Fuck..." Alastor groaned in ecstasy. "Shit. Right there- Ah!—" you bit harder down, "—Fuck..."
You detached yourself from him for a moment, placing your bloodied forehead onto his and looking into his glowing, neon green eyes with your bright blue-green ones.
"I fucking hate you," you seethed, staring him deeply into his eyes to make sure he understood you completely. He breathed heavily, his eyes full of lust and attraction, and you relished in the way he unfolded beneath you so helplessly. "I hate you, Alastor. I hate you."
"I hate you more," Alastor replied sensually with a grin, the words hardly above a whisper. His brows were furrowed and he looked confused, like he didn't believe his own feelings, his own attraction to you.
You really did feel like you hated him, but you also didn't. He was the reason for your downfall, from the very beginning — he took your soul and ruined your fucking life, he caused you to revert back to your old bloodthirsty ways, and you knew he did it on purpose.
You seethed at him, your forehead still connected with his as his breath fanned your face, and your breath brushed against his, blood from two different corpses intermingling with each other, skin-on-hot-skin. That's why he was asking all of those questions about you, that's why he's been so flirtatious, and conceiving, and curious — it's all been a scheme, a manipulation to force you to lose your composure, to lose your mind, to go insane. And you just now realized it.
Alastor grabbed you by the shoulders and dominantly switched your positions, forcing you up against the same wall you had him up against. He aggressively and mercilessly attacked your neck, biting into your skin so hard he tore off a thin layer of skin. You cried out, but it felt so good, so you could do nothing but melt beneath his touch and let him do whatever he wanted to you.
"F-Fuck.." you stammered as Alastor moaned into your skin, the sound sending vibrations into your neerves, making you shiver and shake. His wet, long tongue swirled around different spots on your neck, leaving love bites you knew would be visible later. "Alastor.."
"[Y/N].." he moaned, muffled, into your hot skin. The smell of sweat and fresh blood and candy apple air freshener flooded your nostrils, along with Alastor's natural scent of pine and death and fuck, he was intoxicating. You couldn't get enough, practically begging for more. He delighted in your mewls and moans, smirking into your skin, allowing his sharp teeth to dig into you.
You dug your hands into his hair, letting your sharp nails pierce his scalp as he bit into your neck, breaking the skin and making your own blood pour in heaps down your collar bone, tainting his shirt he let you wear, tainting you.
After a half a minute, he pulled apart, breathing uncontrollably and looking intensely into your eyes. You could hear his pulse beneath his skin, smell his blood as if it was the sweet scent of caramel candy, and fuck you couldn't stop you couldn't stop you couldn't stop when he pulled you in for a kiss.
"Mmph!" you moaned when your lips crashed into each other. His plump lips moved against your own, forcing his face and body into yours, unable to get enough of your taste. His tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, practically pleading for entrance.
Playfully, you denied him, and instead tried to dominate him, pushing into him and letting your hands claw and dig into his broad back. Frustrated and passionate, Alastor wrapped his slender hand around your throat and squeezed roughly, enough to make you dizzy and lightheaded.
Fuuuuuuck. What the fuck were you even doing right now? But you couldn't stop. You couldn't stop even if you tried.
Alastor asked for entrance again as he choked you, and, weak and dizzy, you allowed him. Your tongues met in a wet and hot collision, and he sucked on yours and wrestled for dominance. Eventually, after fighting with him, he won, and you melted into his touch.
That's when you heard the sirens, but you and Alastor didn't care. You both were addicted, hooked onto each others sickening madness, and you both revelled in it.
Blue and red lights flooded the living room, making your head spin. Even though you didn't want you, you broke the kiss with Alastor with a "hmmph!" sound, and brought the hunting knife to his throat.
Your eyes were lustful and half lidded. "I did what you asked, motherfucker. I killed for you, and you for me. Now, we're going to get the fuck out of here," you had to catch your breath for a minute before you went on, "and run. Then we're getting that stupid book and you're giving me my soul back."
Alastor grinned, the police sirens and red and blue lights flashing in your eyes making your head pound with an oncoming migraine. Your vision was cloudy, and your brain was overcast, and you couldn't think straight. At this point, you were merely acting on instinct — the same instincts that pushed you to kill, the same instincts that made you kiss Alastor. Your dark, hidden animalistic instincts you worked so hard to get rid of over the past year, and here they were, returning because of a boy you couldn't get enough of.
Alastor, grabbing your hand and lowering the knife, nodded. His grin broke into a sharp-toothed one, and you could see faint traces of blood on his teeth. "Deal."