"People believe what they want to believe—I'll just make sure they want to believe me," she asserted in an audible whisper. A faint smile loosened as it reached its course, which exuded certainty and an unsettling intensity. Needless to say, her siren eyes captured their depth in a calm pleasure that was admired and worshipped by my viewers. The subtle arch of the sharp brows further accentuated the adorned features of her face and her lips curved with deceptive kindness, releasing the next words, knowing she could make her viewers submit to her through my comfort-shady remarks.
"Trust is such a fragile thing, isn't it? But with the right words, I can make you see exactly what I want you to see." The comments immediately yielded to her; she smiled knowingly at them, and it felt therapeutic to me. Making people grovel was her pleasure.
She believes people are inherently selfish, and society is deemed to be viewed as a game board, where each person is a pawn she can manipulate to her own advantage. Her prime ideology is to use the weaknesses of the weak, destroy the ruthless, and acquire her promotion of desired pleasures.
Unknown number: "She's dead."
Feigning ignorance, she ended her livestream, registering the fact that she was gaining a greater curiosity at the text.
She tapped her fingers onto the keyboard of her dimly lit phone to type out a message.
She: Thank you for your enlightening news update. I'll file it under 'Things I don't care about'
The sent button immediately appeared approvingly as she curled up a smirk, which she fervently adored, not letting it falter.
Unknown number: Don't be so quick to dismiss it. She was the first—she won't be the last. Keep pretending you don’t care; it makes my job easier.
Unknown number: Or maybe you played a part in it.
Two messages sped up her loading screen as she averted her eyes to the response. Not swaying her prioritised morals, her eyes captured the answer in a swift analytic manner.
She: Well, she must have run out of use anyway.
After sending her response, she didn’t flinch. Her face remained composed, almost unnervingly calm. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, like she was amused by the whole exchange—a game - and one she’d already mastered.
Her eyes, sharp and focused, narrowed just slightly, revealing a glint of something unsettling. It was as though she had already several moves ahead, her mind working quickly to predict her opponent’s next step. The flicker in her gaze was icy and detached, with an air of smug confidence that suggested she’d done this before—and knew exactly how to come out on top.
Leaning back, she allowed the smirk to fade into an expression of pure indifference, as if death and danger were trivial, not worthy of her attention. Where anyone else might feel shaken, she was utterly unbothered.
No rebuttal responses dared to glisten on the screen. An undeniable crave was crawling to settle through her soul, which declared and strived for another amusing exchange.
She watched the blank screen with some newfound devotion that wanted to fill her satisfaction. The screen reminded still, the message thread still being empty of any new replies. No typing indicator preceded this.
With a faint, unsatisfied smile, she set her phone down, unsavouringly setting it to the lock mode.
YOU ARE READING
Quite Death
Mystery / ThrillerTrust me, I'm lying. But when you're already into it, you know that, don't you? Or maybe you're just imagining things. Because you've never understood what's real.
