Primal Impulse (COMPLETED!)

43. Regret

    We worked well together for the next two days, me silently thinking if I really wanted to do this to her, to be selfish.  But in the end, was it really being selfish?  She would go through pain yes, but it would give her so much pleasure in the end. 

    She would break her back for me, and I had a feeling she would lay down her soul for me to trample on if that's what I really wanted.  She trusted me to do right by her, but I only ever did wrong. 

    I had been more than selfish with her, putting her down and embarrassing her, to get the reaction I wanted.  I took from her, her first kiss and so much more.  Was she too innocent to see what I had done?

    I studied her, as she organized my files and wrote notes for me to read later.  Her golden blonde hair fell in soft curls out of the messy bun, covering parts of her bright blue eyes.  I watched her facial expressions, as she read over one of my reports, her brows knitting together adorably, her full lips puckering.  My focus drifted down to her neck when my phone beeped.

    I opened the text, unknowingly playing a video of Kohle's back, his muscles moving tightly.  When his frame went out of view, I saw Stacy, strapped to table, her face white with pain.  Ruth came into view, licking the sweat off Stacy's neck and I couldn't take anymore.  I stopped the video.

    I felt sick to my stomach, beyond sick as I read the words underneath.

    "Tell Stacy I miss her, and that she will heal faster this time I'm sure."

    "Master Stoic?  Are you okay?"

    Stacy's soft concerned voice pressed play on my frozen body.  I couldn't look at her, without seeing this video, without seeing the vile Ruth and Kohle touching Stacy. 

    I locked my screen and shoved my phone in my pocket.  I didn't want anyone to see that, and I didn't want Stacy to know.

    "Yeah, something came up and I need to think about a few things."

    I soundlessly got up from behind my desk and walked out, a plan forming in my head.  I heard Stacy rise to follow me, but I slammed the door behind, signaling for her not to.  I couldn't look at her right now.

    I needed to take my anger out on something, so I could think clearer.  I headed towards the cells in my basement, the ones that kept the blood slaves.  When the heavy metal door opened, I heard their heartbeats pound with anxiety of being chosen.  Their body's crushing into the darkness, praying to any entity that they wouldn't be seen, that they wouldn't be picked. 

    I ran my finger across the bars as I walked casually down the hall, not looking into any of the room like cages that contained my meals, my relief.  My finger stopped on one, the heartbeat coming on regularly.  No fear scented the air around this one.

    I pulled the keys from my pocket, and entered, letting the door lock behind me.  The man sat, on his cot, looking down at his bare feet.  He was scraggly, and his face was partially masked by a mess of a beard.  His body once held promise, now it barely held itself.  His muscles were stringy, holding his starved frame together.  He didn't look up to me as I asked him.

    "What's the cruelest thing you have done in your life?"

    He didn't move, didn't acknowledge that I had spoke to him.  "Speak and be judged.  Speak and ask for forgiveness before there is none left to ask."

    "I don't deserve forgiveness."

    Interesting.  "What do you deserve?"

    "Death, torturous death.  For what I have done."

    "Do tell.  I might just give that to you tonight."

    The salt hit the air, and he made no movement to wipe the tear away.  "I saved my skin, only to have it kill another.  Only for me to kill another."

    "Continue.  I want to hear more.  I want everyone in this basement to be judge and witness to your trial."

    "I was forced.  My life or hers, and I selfishly picked mine, and I killed her.  She was so young, at her half life."  He brought his hands up to cover his shameful face.  "I told myself Ruth wouldn't let either one of us live.  I told myself, and I lied."  His voice began to break.  "I don't want to live with it anymore.  I can still feel that girl on my flesh and it sickens me."

    I had come down here, to relieve my tension, relieve my anger, but instead I had found a kindred spirit.  My life or hers.  I killed her.  I can still feel her.  Sick.  His last words hit every fiber of my soul.  That's how I had felt.  Sick and wishing for death, although not my own, when I had seen that video.  When Kohle's name came up.  When I saw his midnight face.

    I closed my eyes and listened.  I listened to all the heartbeats pounding in chests frozen in fear.  All of the held breaths, waiting to see or hear what I did next.  Normally, I would pick out the ones I wanted and had them placed in the red room.  A room where a hose could wash away all of my fine dining.  Where screams were so easily heard, and died.  Where I took out all of my anger the last few months.

    I opened my eyes again and stepped closer to this broken man.  I leaned down, close to his ear.  "Wish granted."  I bit down deep into his neck, pulling hard and deep on his life force.  The smell of fear and disgust enveloped me, swarmed me in a cloud of coolness.  But his blood, it was something I never wanted to taste again.  Remorse and regret weighed heavily and his blood held that taste.  It was the worst kind of medicine, like a sludge not wanting to move.  I had to force the foul taste down to keep drinking. 

    I understood why he had lived so long.  No one could manage to willingly taste something like that without spitting it out.  He was just getting woozy, and I had to stop.  I couldn't stand it, and the overall feel of it left an even worse after taste.  I kept my teeth in, and pulled back, ripping the side of his throat out, letting him bleed to death.

    His body tumbled to my feet, blood quickly spreading over the floor.  I stepped back, watching the liquid rim creep closer to me, and when it began to slow, I looked down at the man.  Four thick scars lined his back.  Four thick bulging scars Ruth had given him.

    I couldn't do it any more.  All of my plans crumbled around me and I left, throwing up curdled blood just outside the basement door.

Sorry for the delay.  I hope you have read closely and pieced together exactly who the man was.....  If not you'll find out in a chapter or two.

Oh and a little extra something ;)

Drunk.  That's what I was.  I didn't even know how it happened.  I wanted to wash that feeling out of my mouth, and it wouldn't go away.  Then the calling reared it's ugly clingy head and I didn't want to be around Stacy right now.  Too fucking late.

"Too late for what?"

"Nothing Bunny."  I said as I closed my eyes.  Yeah I could do this.  I could just not look at her, and pretend she wasn't here.  Until she sat next to me and pulled my hand in hers.

"You can do what Master Stoic."

Fuck that was hot.

I opened my eyes and looked at her.  "I love when you say it like that."

"Say what Master Stoic?"

I gave her a lazy grin.  How could I not want to be around her?  I grabbed her hand, and quickly pushed her back, straddling her waist. 

"Fuck you smell so good Bunny."  I breathed in her neck, then licking back up the soft flesh.  Her body arched beneath me, letting out a soft mewl.  I kissed her, taking in every ounce of flesh and tasting every bit of her mouth.  This was heaven, my heaven and I wanted every bit of it.