Serpentine Desires

The predator

I write for you guys. If not anything, at least do comment, I really feel sad when you guys just read and don't comment how would I know if you like it or if I'm just wasting my time writing it? 

Is it concerning if I say I giggled while writing this chapter?

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"Прости меня, отец, ибо я согрешил."

(Forgive me, Father... for I have sinned.)

The soft flesh under my fingers was delightfully squishy sinking as my thumb pressed deeper and the screams grew louder.

Ah, the screams.

They usually whined in pain, but as much as I enjoyed their cries... lately... my preferences had become more specific, more... exquisite.

I ached to hear these desperate pleas from the lips I had been fantasizing about, not from the worthless man beneath me. My ears craved a different melody. Something more feminine. From a certain brunette.

It had become a bad habit of mine.

Fantasising about her.

And she was the reason I was visiting this damn place after a long time people refer to it as the house of God, but I wasn't there to present my meagre truths, nurtured by the illusion that occasional good deeds would earn a place with the Creator.

No, that would mean I was just like them.

I was in this damned place, and for some reason, I found my fingers itching to slice certain man's throat just as voices whispered in my head.

And just because I liked tormenting this man... the fear in his eyes, it was fun.

"You're making me so... so angry, Dontello."

I flexed my fingers as blood dripped down my fingers on the marble floor. The man I just mutilated, whose eyeballs were just beneath my shoes had stopped crying now. And I suppressed a giggle as the guard dogs beside Dontello trembled and pointed their guns at me.

Unfair.

Why were they acting like I was some serial killer on the loose when they were the ones with their weapons holding against me, a defenceless man?

"What're you doing here, Romanovski? It's not a place for the likes of you." The bastard thought his glare would make me shudder, cower away in fear, shaking in my boots as we speak, and get down on my knees asking for forgiveness.

Nah.

Instead, I met his gaze with an unblinking stare. I let a slow smirk curl at the edges of my lips. His attempt at intimidation was almost laughable like I wouldn't notice the quiver in his voice. I took a step closer, enjoying the flicker of fear in his eyes.

The power dynamics had just shifted, and he realised it.

"And it is for you?" My boot made contact with the dead body I just maimed earlier, and I frowned. Did I just pluck out his eyeballs? Gross. "Looks like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be." I could already see him trembling under my gaze as the realisation slowly masked his ugly features. "You know I love some bonding time with my creator-"

The old snail dared to interrupt me. Rude. "The fuck you are on about? I told you I have no information-"

My head tilted to the side as I stared at him. He still thought I wanted the information. It was such a simple thing I could get with the snap of my fingers. But the raw burn in my chest, primarily aggressive, reigned the control for now.

"Ah-ha," I clicked my tongue shaking my head and finger. "I don't like getting stopped mid-sentence." My eyes moved to the men beside him and I tilted my head and took off my shades before tucking them in my shirt. Dontello's eyes widened and I realised his eyeballs would look nicer as the headlights of the new Tesla instead. "As I was saying," I grinned clasping my hands together. "Let's make a confession each, and see who's worse."

"You-You..." Donatello backed away anxiously.