you're mine

Chapter 53

Warning: chapter contains graphic details and disturbing topics

Rain trickles lightly down each window as I pass through the house, the last of the storm leaving the sky. The floorboards, which are moving closer to Chris's bedroom with every step I take, are lit by the moonlights glow.

I didn't want to do this but what choice do I have? He was nice to us; nice to me. Despite his kindness, I don't need him and I never did. Emily
May think differently. That's why I have to do this and she will blame me for doing it, but I don't. I don't feel bad or blame myself. No, this is their fault. Emily thinking she needs them. Chris inviting us to stay for longer and pretending to be some fucking father figure.

I don't need him.

The door groans open, letting moonlight stream into Chris's room and illuminating his sleep. Once I verify he is asleep and in bed where is supposed to be, I turn around on myself and head down the hall.

My footsteps lighten as I come to the end of the hall, entering Ella's bedroom. Light doesn't shine into her room due to the walls around (differing from Chris's room which has a window opposite it, casting light at every opportunity). Ella's blanket moves up and down with her light snoring. This is different to all the other times I've done it. For some reason, I don't want to savour it.

Shutting the door, I rapidly move to her bed where she lays in a deep sleep. She's snoring, her hair falling across her innocent face and flowing into her open lips. By her little, bare feet, I notice a cushion with a leopard print design. Grasping it firmly, I press it against the young girls face.   She wakes up and instantly struggles. Grabbing the air and swinging her legs, fighting for oxygen. Small noises come from under the pillow, attempts of a scream but it doesn't happen. I can smell the fear radiating the air like mould. It doesn't take long before it stops. The fighting, the small noises and the life. Her body goes limp. My lips separate when I let out a sigh.

After leaving the dead girls room, I head towards the kitchen.

My fingers tighten around a metal rod. I pull on it, extracting a drawer with different sharp objects. The moonlight glazes down onto the sharpest object in the drawer, almost blinding my vision. I squint to see the object. A chefs knife. Not wasting any time, I pick up the knife and close the drawer.

"Luca?" A voice from behind me calls. My body reacts from the sound with a jump, despite knowing who the voice belongs to.

I turn and face Emily. "What?"

"Come back to bed." She mumbles, not seeing the knife in my hand.

"I'm not going to bed, I need to do this. For us."
I explain with a monotone voice. It almost feels like I'm not talking and my body is taking over. But I feel it, so I know that's not true. I feel the anger flowing through me. The craving to do what needs to be done.

"Do what?" She quirks an eyebrow. Her sleepy features beginning to fade as her senses lock in and take over. "What- what're you doing, Luca?"

"Making this right, baby." I soothe.

"What? Making what right? Please, just come back to bed and we can talk about this." Her eyes land on the blade.

"Talking won't fix this, princess. It has to be done."

"What does?" She yells, already knowing the answer to her own question.

I flash a menacing glance Emily's way before striding towards Chris's room again, almost sure I can hear her heart beating as I pass her.

This time I don't waste any time on being quiet. I swing the ajar door open, the handle hits the wall behind it, jolting Chris awake with a loud bang.

"Is everything alright? Is Ella ok?" The terror in his voice fills the room. Chris doesn't wait for an answer and shoots his body up, ripping frantically at the fabrics covering his body. His feet hits the ground with a thump but before he can stand on them with all of his weight, my hand comes out and pushes him down onto the bed. Chris's body bounces slightly a few times with the impact of the push.

"What's going on?" Chris questions. It isn't until his eyes dart from mine to Emily's when I notice she is in the room with us.

My hand tightens around the blade at his voice.

"Luca, calm down, son. Okay? We can work this-"

Swiftly, I extend my hand and cut his forearm with the sharp blade, causing the skin to split open into a significant gash.

"I'm not your son." My jaw clenches in anger and my eyes flick to the cut. I have to suppress a smirk due to the idea in my mind.

Chris yells out in agony, I almost laugh because In a few minutes, he will be wishing I stopped at the cut to the arm. My hand wraps around his forearm, fingers stopping just over the opened wound. Chris doesn't fight,  being in shock from my movements.

"Luca! Stop! Please!" Emily cries and my jaw ticks. My teeth grind together in an uncomfortable way.

Ignoring her for now, I concentrate on my fingers grazing the wound. Without warning, i thrust my fingers into the exposed injury, experiencing his loose skin wrapping around my index, middle and ring fingers as I push them deeper into the unnatural hole I created.

"I enjoy this." I whisper balefully over the squelching sound of his blood flowing out of his arm, my fingers taking its place. A bone brushes against the tips of my fingers which only makes me want to push deeper.

Chris makes a noise of pain that almost makes me flinch in discomfort.

"Luca. Please. I'm sorry." His sentences are short and breathy whilst he looks at me with his pleading eyes.

I rip my fingers from inside of Chris and he groans out.

"It's going to get a whole lot worse."

I turn to face Emily, who has tears streaming down her face and her palm trembling over her mouth, holding back cries.

Suddenly, I lunge forward and pierce the knife into Chris's stomach. He takes a deep breath but doesn't exhale. His eyes clench shut and open wider than before. Emily's screams are like a white noise in the back of my head. Like when you get a bad migraine and hear ringing in your ears.

Blood seeps around the knife's handle and through my knuckles as it tears open the corpulent flesh. The knife digs deeper into his stomach, the blade fully disappearing into the hole. My fingers brush against the torn stomach, little pieces of skin colliding with my fingers, resembling wet pieces of food left in a dishwasher.

Chris's hands grip onto the blood soaked bedding, giving himself support when he lets out a painful deep breath.

"Please.... Ella....." He mutters.

I remove the knife from his stomach, the flesh flopping outwards to let it exit then folding in on itself. The knife comes towards my face, letting me examine the blood on the blade dripping down onto Chris's pyjama pants.

"Call....an ambulance. Please. I'll do anything." Emily shrieks and cries but doesn't move an inch; too scared that I will do the same thing to her.

The knife swipes along Chris's throat. I don't even realise what I had done until the slice in his neck is widening, spraying blood onto my face. Only a few seconds pass until Chris's limp body falls onto the bed. He's still alive, but not for long. There's no saving him; not that I would if I could.

Emily falls to the ground, screaming. "You promised! You said you wouldn't hurt them! I hate you! I hate you so much!"