The cold of the freezer was oppressive, almost suffocating, but Vincent hardly felt it. He was too consumed by what lay before him, too lost in the twisted logic that had led him to this point. The knife in his hand gleamed under the harsh fluorescent light, stained with the blood of the woman he had just killed-the woman Rody loved.
Manon's lifeless body was splayed out on the stainless steel table, her limbs neatly separated, her once-vibrant eyes now glassy and dull. Vincent's hands were shaking, but not from fear-no, this was something else entirely. He had killed her to prove something, to show Rody that he was the one who truly understood love, that his devotion was unmatched.
But as the reality of what he had done began to settle in, Vincent's mind reeled with the gravity of it. He had crossed a line, one he could never return from, and the only thing that scared him more than that was Rody's inevitable reaction. Rody, who had been his obsession, his desire, the one thing in this world that made him feel alive.
The sound of the freezer door opening was like a gunshot in the silence, and Vincent froze, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. He could feel Rody's presence, the familiar warmth of him, but it was now tinged with an icy dread.
Slowly, Vincent turned to face him, his heart pounding in his chest. Rody stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as they took in the scene before him. He looked at Vincent first, then at the table where Manon's body lay in pieces, her blood still fresh, still warm.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the low hum of the freezer, the cold air swirling around them. Vincent felt like he was suffocating, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a vise. This was it-Rody would hate him now, despise him, and that would be worse than any physical pain.
But Rody didn't react the way Vincent had expected. There was no scream of horror, no rush of anger. Instead, Rody's eyes darkened, and something shifted in his expression, something that sent a chill down Vincent's spine.
With slow, deliberate steps, Rody walked towards him. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, but Vincent couldn't move. He could only watch as Rody came closer, his eyes never leaving Vincent's face.
When Rody stopped in front of him, Vincent flinched, expecting the worst-a punch, a scream, anything. But instead, Rody reached out and cupped Vincent's face in his hand, his touch surprisingly gentle, despite the roughness of his skin. The blood smeared across Vincent's cheek, mixing with the cold sweat that had broken out there.
"You did this for me, didn't you?" Rody's voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made Vincent's heart skip a beat. It was a tone he had never heard from Rody before, dark and twisted, filled with something that could only be described as hunger.
Vincent's breath hitched in his throat. "Rody, I-"
But Rody didn't let him finish. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Vincent's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. "You thought this would make me love you," Rody murmured, his voice smooth and almost hypnotic. "That by taking away the one thing I cared about, you'd have me all to yourself."
Vincent's heart pounded in his chest, the realization of what he had done crashing down on him like a tidal wave. "I... I just... I didn't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice cracking with desperation. "I thought if I made her part of something... something beautiful, you'd see how much you mean to me."
Rody's smile twisted into something darker, something almost inhuman. He released Vincent's face and stepped past him, moving towards the table where Manon's body lay. For a moment, he just stared down at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out and picked up one of her severed arms, holding it with an almost reverent touch.
