It was hard to control his urges. They crept and loitered in the back of his mind like a dark force, lingering with cruel intentions and carrying a hefty weight of a merciless haunting – a gut-wrenching twist to feed the hungry monster within Kylo Ren's, wicked soul.
When the baring of the darkness within him, curled upon his tongue and ran the blood within his veins cold, it was already too late to stop what had already, sub-consciously, began.
His dark brown eyes cast across his surroundings, taking in the melancholy faces and bleak voices around him, nit-picking through the bunch to find the brightest star out of the world's population-galaxy, to dwindle and mould one of them, into the same type of void which burns in the midst of his cold, brutal heart.
He initially tried to fight it, but when his craving only became stronger overtime, it was an unfair battle and only left him feeling horribly tortured when he realised that he truely enjoyed the taste of his very own, brand of heroine – the forbidden taste to savour.
But like all things do, it grew upon him – the darkness bled slowly into him, whilst his humanity only ran dry. It started by merely squashing insects on the footpath when he was younger, stopping in his tracks behind his friends and watching the mush of the bug dry along the pavement, whilst the other boys all called out for him to break out of his immoral daze.
Then, it moved to something more tangible, something which he could physically watch the life leave their eyes, like the neighbourhood dogs and the old-woman next door's, friendly cat.
Though, those house-hold pets soon weren't enough either to sedate his overgrowing and demanding hunger, and it was becoming unbearable to live with as he constantly found his dreams replacing the friendly cats with crying humans, covered in their own, thick and metallic but beautiful, blood.
Dynamically, it didn't take long for those dreams to become a reality – and through the years that pass, Kylo had found multiple ways to make it more exciting than it already was, more exhilarating... but his favourite part of the killings, was the build up.
Yes – the build up, the ever-present, climatical longing as he would stalk his victims, find out everything about them until he grew to hate them, somehow impossibly more. Kylo soon found that if there was a burning feeling of ferocious hatred for his victim, when the time came to slicing his sharp knife into their pudgy flesh, to watch all the adrenaline snap beneath the hilt, he would smile at his lethal force and almost, feel relieved that their life was finally raptured out of this world, leaving only the crimson to stain his fingers and the taste of their blood upon his tongue, for the memory.
It made his mouth even water now.
He spotted her.
She was messy. Thin but her personality was large. It was a late night on a Saturday in the city and she seemed to be waiting for someone outside a busy and erotic nightclub as her legs wobbled and swayed whilst her face was illuminated by the screen of her phone which she was invested in.
Kylo Ren had been watching her for three days now, and she seemed to somehow soar into the top twenty list of most hated victims. Alaska Black was maintained, usually, and her heart seemed to be made of stone behind that thick wall of make-up, which was always layered upon her face beneath the curtains of her thick, auburn hair.
Alaska Black was plastic, inside and out – and it didn't help her case that he loathed the way she smacked her glossed lips constantly, whispering and gossiping about the students who go to her college, especially those she would consider to be her friends.
But she was exciting. He had never killed a plastic woman before, he usually went for the easy targets, the women who would come to him initially and throw themselves upon his broad shoulders which held his handsome face.
The city raged with a destructive noise and satisfaction, bursting the deadly beat of his primal heart as he watched the way her heels were tied tightly upon her petite feet, a benefit to the hunter, if she ever had the courage to try and out-run him.
He smiles as he curls his exhilarated fingers into his palms, his knuckles turning as white as pillared stone. Plastic can't break, but he would find a way, he would cut her open, snap her shards and melt her until she was nothing but broken.
When he closed the distance from across the busy street, side-swiping drunk shoulders and nudging his way over to her, the smell of her bitter vomit flooded his senses and only added to the twist in his stomach, which craved nothing more than to kill her on the spot.
Alaska Black wore a red and incredibly, tight dress which clung to her curves, but the front of the fabric above her breasts, was stained darker with the droplets of her sickly retch. She stood on the side of the nightclub which she had just been kicked out of, but told her friends that she left for air and it only made it easier for him to get what he craved as he smiled to her intoxication and complimented her bland eyes.
She fell into a fit of devotion for him almost instantaneously, the way all women would and it only proved to him, the total permission to feel elation in the fabricated bond he liked to form before he lead her out of the coldness of the streets and into his cruel arms of beyond.
As she sat in the passenger-seat of his car, she puckered her lips and discreetly brushed the droplets upon her chest as her intoxicated blood began to prickle with lust and need for the beautiful killer beside her, whose fingers curled around the steering wheel to grip onto something before swapping one of his rough and wide hands, for the mound of her soft thigh.
That intoxicating primal need for him erupted in her core and the passion only sat on the rose of her plump lips, whilst at the same time, the desire to torture her passion into ashes, sat on the tip of his tingling tastebuds.
The nightclub she had come from was filled with rainbow lights and the sort of beats that revved up the soul, but in his bedroom, the only electric beat was the ones of their erratic hearts as he began to twine his body around her's – but just as he sat on-top of her waist with his hands groping the flesh where her dress had rode up above, she leans in to kiss his stone lips... and that's the exact moment when he reaches for the knife beneath his pillow and glides it in one swift move, along the pale skin of her neck.
The screaming had stopped so very suddenly. One minute she was moaning beneath his hands and the next she was nothing but a convulsing mess with her own pressed to her neck, the crimson bleeding through her fingers.
Kylo hadn't sliced her neck open enough to ensure a death, no – he liked to play with his victims before finishing them. He liked to watch every possible way they cried, he liked to listen to every possible bribe they could come up with before he ultimately stopped listening.
His hands were moved by loath and cold as he dragged her to where he took all of his muses and her blood also stuck to his fingers like a faint film as they curled around her ankles, her head hitting the floor along the way as she gurgled and thrashed.
Just like the lively city that Alaska Black had left by his direction, his heart was beating as if fireworks were erupting in his chest with excitement, the darkness within him, only lighting up when it came to feeding time – like a dog would do a dance before a treat.
She cried the whole time Kylo Ren did his work – using her blood as if her body was the pallet and her crimson was his artistry. He adored every moment of it, especially the climax of it all.
His lips let out an experimental whistle, the sound oozing into the air like the shrill of wind being pushed away in quick motion. The short bursts of breath that were released into the air sounded light, smooth. Not quite in tune with a song, but it wasn't like Alaska was listening to him anymore.
Alaska Black was a plastic girl, but in his hands, she was made of nothing but glass and he only used her shattered edges to slice her deeper but eventually, for her own sake, Kylo put her into a plastic bag for her own mortified, coffin.
No longer was she the horrid or conceited girl on campus, she was just going to be the missing girl on campus and he was sure that she would remain that way until no longer, is her peculiar name ever uttered again.
Nobody ever found his victims, he cherished them in a secret place, their burials being a lonesome ground.
But just as he begins to dig the second hole in the dirt, one for the bag which contained all of her belongings, a soft buzz could be heard from within it. Kylo's fingers are already marked with endless amounts of silver scars but he can't help but bite his bottom lip as he rips the bag open, the plastic rough against the stinging blisters in his palms from the shovel.
The low hum of the cellphone seemed to match up with the swirls of a song which danced through the hollow night's air. It was a cold dawning as they always were when he took his victims out to lay, but this early morning there was soft rain splattering tirelessly against Kylo's broad back as he knelt to the dirt and hunched over the screen, to which the light from it, illuminated his face the same way it did to Alaska, outside the nightclub.
The old radio which once belonged to his Father, sunk low into the muddy ground and faltered slightly. Fuzz mixing in with the piano keys of the only, classical, radio station which it could pick up from this far out.
Thunder crashed in a chorus of sound, lighting up the forest he had crept into, but he didn't flinch – he feared nothing but himself.
In the rain, the water pellets washed away the remains of the blood belonging to the late, Alaska, off his fingers as he gripped her phone – what a waste of metallic euphoria.
He stained the edges of Alaska's phone in the midst of his curiosity, his pink tongue darting across his lower lip, where upon the gloss he can still taste her sinful copper, but when he lays his brown and evil eyes upon the contact photo of her caller, his mouth went dry.
He can feel his heart grow within his chest and tighten the way one would as he gripped them in his bloodied hand. It thumped and pumped a new pace... something much more distinctive, but still hungry.
His stomach swirled and his blood shockingly, turned warm as if the girl who rang the late, Alaska Black, had thrown a lit match into his darkness and engulfed it into a painful desire, immediately and whole-cruel-heartedly, infatuated with her in one simple glance.
As her name blinked above her contact image, Kylo Ren didn't know what was happening as he took sight of her, the way her smile was big in the photo and her eyes were wide and hopeful.
He hated it. Kylo hated the way her unforgettable beauty made him feel... and he knew, that he would have to destroy it if he ever wished to live on, doing what he loves best and being the soulless monster he was.
But despite the hatred in his bones, there was something else which remarkably, longed for her and his bloody smile fell when he realised what his twisted soul and his darkness was crying out to him now with the burden of an impossible starvation he must fill...
He had to have her.