The Berserker

Chapter 31

Peyton laughed.

It was the type of unhinged laugh that he gave to those who were never ready for him. Goosebumps tingled down my spine. I growled to shake it off; fear would not take over.

He smirked at Nathaniel.

I shot, but it missed a hairsbreadth away. Blood trickled from his neck. My heart pounded in my ears, legs trembling. I shot at Peyton. Just because he looked at Nathaniel.

My choice had been made long before even I was aware of it, but I couldn't change my mind. No. I wouldn't.

Peyton realised this as well because his demeanor shifted again.

"Oh, my heartless devil."

My eyes widened. He knew? Of course, Peyton knew.

"Cynical sleeping beast."

Vision hazy, I fought against the words. I can't blackout. Not here. Not under his command.

Shoot!

The weight of the trigger shifted, but my body was no longer my own. If he said the last words, who knows what Peyton would make me do to Nathaniel.

"Become the living incubo that men fear."

I covered my ears, a futile effort to stop the ringing words. Through the haze I made out Nathaniel, his green eyes shining like a beacon in the dark. Please. I had never before in my life been this desperate to not become the one thing that made my entire being.

"Berserker."

Weightless, floating in the black void, it was a familiar numbing sensation. I knew splashes of red were coming; that was inevitable. Faint sounds permeated the cocoon before I recognized it as a voice. Someone familiar. Peyton had to be ordering me to do something deplorable. Struggling to find my centre of gravity, I tried to recall what brought me out of my state. However, in the deepest recesses of my memory, I could not recall an instance where I've been brought out by my own will.

I was living my own nightmare all over again.

Oh.

What had he said? I will become the living nightmare that men fear. Not me. But men.

I will become the nightmare he fears, and I will kill him. I only felt sad that another would have to suffer because of me. A laugh bubbled in my throat. I warned the boy not to thank me until this was all over.

Now, he would see the real me.

The weight of the gun was in my palm again, my feet on solid ground, yet my vision remained black. As if moved by a ghost, my right arm raised high, only to stop when it touched its target. Warmth caressed my forearm, so I could only assume it was the person's breath. I waited for the ringing of the gunshot.

"Fight!"

A force threw me sideways, the ground now pressing at my back, while a greater weight bore down from above. Out of instinct, I reacted, swinging at the unseen foe. The shadow match continued, rolling on the ground as the urge to preserve my life grew.

"You're not a monster."

I blinked. The trees of the cabin, vibrant and alive, shimmered through the darkness. Such a gentle tone. How odd. Why wasn't he screaming? Surely, he was in pain.

"You feel pain."

Warmth touched my face and then vanished in an instant. There was a yell - an order to finish what I started. Right. I had to make him happy, or I would die. With a renewed sense of preservation, I ignored the kind words that were never meant for me.