wicked | h.s

prologue

3:56 am.

i finally snapped.

rage coursed through my veins, heart pumping erratically. dark tendrils pulled tightly around my fingers, my teeth gritted. my eyes were dark, a glint of iniquity evident.

my mind was filled with so many thoughts, voices screaming through hoarse throats.

anger took over my senses, carrying me to the kitchen. my fingers trailed along the worktop as i watched, soon grabbing a knife.

a yell broke out from my throat, an argument happening inside my head. what was i doing and why couldn't i stop myself? if i continued with the same mindset, the outcome would be fatal.

the dark thoughts overpowered any sense of good moralities i once had. something inside me craved to feel empowerment.

that was the first night i murdered somebody.

the girl had noticed me on the street, asking me if i was alright. she had noticed my unusual behaviour, curiosity lacing her words.

i killed her, with no traces of reluctance nor remorse.

it wasn't enough, it never will be enough.