𝐕𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐃 ❷

𝟓𝟖. ✭ 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐘 ✭

Warning:
If you're not into degradation then skip the second half of the chapter.

I've said it once and I'll say it again— I fucking hate airplanes. When one is already feeling slightly out of control being in a tin can floating through the fucking sky isn't really grounding. I am quite literally and figuratively up in the air in all aspects of my life. 

I hate it.

Though my current circumstance will lead me to a final outcome that I cannot wait to deliver on. The pain I want to inflict like a hunger that desperately desires to be fed. But I know that even when I am done with Polat, even when I slaughter everyone that gets in my way, the need will still be there. That ravenousness will linger like it always has.

Turning over the Oni mask in my hand I realize the demon I will have to become. No, not have to become. The demon I am. This black and gold mask adorned with horns and fangs will be an outward representation of the thing I am inside. Since no one is to know who I am they'll see what I am and it's about fucking time people know the real truth of it.

When I had gotten to the hanger there was no one there. There was just a duffel bag with cash and clothes. This mask and a phone atop it. The phone instructing me to wear the mask at all times when around other people. Also telling me my guild name for when I arrive in Los Angeles; TLWR2375.

I am to tell no one my real name. I am not to associate with other guild members. Not until my business is concluded. Which is perfectly fine with me considering I don't want to be around anyone. Not a single other person other than the man I plan to kill.

The plane begins to descend which has me on edge, gritting my teeth before placing the mask on. This is the worst part— the landing.

"Fuck this," I growl to myself when the landing gear meets the ground. "Fuck this so hard right now." The screeching sound of the tires on the runway has me taking a deep breath through my nose until we finally come to a halt.

Speaking of fucking...

I could go for getting seriously fucked up and fucking someone.

Dani's face flashes behind my eyes. The way I want to degrade the absolute fuck out of her for being with another man before being absolutely done with her is not something I'm exactly proud of. The things I would do to her are things that I don't even think she could handle. And to be quite honest, she doesn't deserve even the most disgustingly disturbing of my pleasures right now. She would have to beg. Beg me on her hands and knees for me to even consider it.

When the pilot comes out of the cockpit he eyes me nervously before opening the door. When I stand up from my seat he's instantly backing away. He looks terrified as I exit and there's something about it that's so satisfying.

Be afraid. Be very afraid. The devil's wrath has come to play.

✩✩✩

"TLWR2375," my voice a gruffer version of itself.

"Identity confirmed," the robotic voices says before I audibly hear the door in front of me unlock.

Upon opening, I am met with an over abundance of grandeur. Luxury at its finest. My father would love it here. Not thinking about that. Right.

Making my way to the front desk I see the man behind it assessing me in a curious manner. He's a large motherfucker, dressed in a three piece suit much like my own, though his is navy instead of midnight. He's got about twenty-five-or-so years on me with long salt and pepper hair. He's got a beard that is substantial, solid white in color.