ℭ𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔯𝔞 𝔄𝔯𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦:
She dreams of finding a heartwarming prince charming who'll cherish her like a princess. Someone who'll embrace her tightly with love and passion. But everything shatters when her parents set her up to marry a psychopath-A...
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T/W⚠️
[Mention of psychotic torture]
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I slipped a silver ring through my middle finger, twisting it to the right angel.
I smile softly at the chained man in front of me. I imagine the view of his head ripped off in a tormented way. How the blood would pool on the ground like puddles that kids would play around. How the hidden organs inside of him pop out like graphic art. How his lifeless eyes would look if having an intense staring competition.
It felt electrifying.
I shake my thoughts away, strolling over to the nearby table. "Let's begin with a simple greeting, shall we? A 'hello, how are you?' before we delve into the matter of your departure", I enunciate, my voice tinged with an unsettling calmness.
I feel the tightness in my chest, making me grab a knife out of the various knives splayed across the wooden table.
"Calm down big bro, you're making the little one scared", My brothers amused voice piped up from behind me.
Konstantin calling the man little one makes me wanna smack him across the face. I mean who calls a person thirty years older than one self that. It's psychotic.
I clenched my jaw tightly. "Go back up", I say sternly, "Just...I don't know. fuck someone? Or go to that silver haired girl...What was her name?" I question, looking over my shoulder.
An exaggerating sigh escaped Konstantin, "as much as I love you Ivan," he began, "I can't help but wanna beat some sense into you", he declares.
I grind my teeth together, craving to cause some tribulation. "Am I supposed to care?" I trail my index finger slowly on the sharp edge of the knife. Blood trailed down my finger while my eyes trailed its dark red path.
"She's your goddamn fiancé Ivan. The least you could do is know her name", his voice sounded disappointed. So much like our fathers voice. Very amusing.
"I'd gladly speak to you, Konkie, but I kind of have some matters to attend to", I motion towards the man I was facing.
When I turned my head to look at him, I saw the raw fear in his eyes. It was a dance of haunting shadows, ready to consume the living creature. I felt my pulse quicken wanting to fill him up with something far more than fear. The feeling of death.
When I hear footsteps trailing away, I start my beautiful spa session.
"What's your name?" I ask unsmiling, crouching down before him. I'm trying to be nice here.
"I can't tell you that". He had the audacity to grit his words out. I'm offended.
"Wrong answer, little one". I declared coolly, driving the knife into his shoulder with a slow motion, earning myself a voice cracking scream. I'm starting off nicely. "Name?" I question again.
