𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 • 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐡.𝐡.)

-ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

chapter 4.) consternation

"Can you please stop with such unearthly shrieking?"

"Let me think about it! Hm...NOPE!"

—————

one year later

Reina didn't know it was actually possible to be truly, genuinely happy.

Her entire life had consisted of just merely going through the motions. She had always felt like she wasn't living—she was simply surviving. And while yes, both terms were similar in denotation, they were absolutely not the same thing. She always felt like she never had a purpose—she was living because she was no use to anyone dead.

And Reina was a lot of things, but she was not useless.

No, she wasn't depressed, as some claimed she was. She had no desire to die. She just felt as if she had no purpose to live. Her very life revolved around her killings—the senseless violence, the adrenaline rush that came along with it. The possibility of being caught—it was exhilarating. It gave her purpose—it gave her what she lacked.

She spent her life suffering. So why was the rest of the world spared from carrying such a burden? No no no, that simply would not be fair. And weren't people raised upon the belief that the world was an equal, fair place?

That was why she existed, why she was placed on such a wretched planet. To spread sorrow, to remind everyone that no, the world was not fair, not at all. People deteriorated over time, both physically and mentally; the world was full of ache and anguish, and no amount of sugar-coating would ever, ever change that. Reina Baymen existed to remind the world of such a fact.

But recently, even that constant reminder failed to bring her satisfaction. It was why her killings had become more erratic and garish—she wouldn't stop until every last drop of blood was spilled. The death of others no longer brought her that adrenaline she so desperately sought after, and that scared her. It made her feel so heavy and empty and she had no idea what to do about it.

But then Alastor had come into her life, suddenly and unexpectedly. He gave her purpose—he made her feel alive again.

And she would kill to preserve this sense of tranquility she had gained, the true sense of purpose she felt in the past year the two of them had been together.

Reina had already committed atrocities to keep her and her sister alive. What were a few more to make sure no one got in her way?

She knew she was playing a dangerous game; these emotions were messing with her head, she knew it. But her whole life was full of danger, wasn't it? She killed people, she found joy in knives and scissors and other sharp, deadly blades. She loved dangerous games—they were practically her entire life. If loving Alastor gave her the same adrenaline rush as committing actual murders, then she would happily welcome his affection with open arms.

Maybe she was insane. But if being insane was what it took to feel alive like this, she would gladly claim madness—she'd welcome it without complaint. In time, the world would know of her desires; they were rather simple concepts to understand. And they would all see one day the morbid extent she would go to prove it—

Keep her sister safe, and cherish the love she had come to find with her partner. And whoever attempted to prevent her from doing so would be handled very thoroughly.