Serial Killer's Daughter

Made for you

A/N: Sorry again for the long update. i know im horrible. But i hope you like this chapter!

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  His lips touched mine and a spark ignited. The sensation spread through my body making its way to my toes. My eyes closed instantly and every thought I had previously disappeared in a flash. Thoughts of killing evaporated as his warm soft lips caressed mine. I could feel my knife in my back pocket grow heavier and the burning of my tattoo grow worse, almost to the point where it was unbearable. But these lips, the lips that were on mine, that were kissing me with so much passion, intensity, and yet softness, made it endurable.

            I could smell the lake water on his body. My hands reaching up to rest on his toned chest. His heart was beating furiously beneath my palms. My breathing, as well as his, was becoming labored. The warmth of his body was seeping into my very own flesh making me shiver in delight.

            Kill him now, Shaitan! The voice inside my head growled with rage, with anger, with fury.

            I ignored it and continued to kiss this boy who made me forget everything, who made me feel something, who made me feel alive for once in my life.

            I demand it! Kill him! The voice shouted, sounding more inhuman with every word.

            My tattoo becoming more agonizing with every second that I disobeyed. But I couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t do it. How could I?

            Against my will my right hand slowly traveled to my back pocket. My fingers instantly clutching the hilt of the knife. Yet this time it felt wrong to have it in my grasps, it felt wrong to even have it at all. Ever so slowly I raised the knife, positioning it over the boy’s heart. Yet he was oblivious to the fact that I wished to kill him that I wished to end his fragile life, that I was being controlled by unknown entities.

            But I was Shaitan Deviln Kill and I would not go down without a fight. The boy’s hands held my cheek softly his lips still moving in sync with mine. Passion within myself engulfed me giving me strength to fight against whatever was trying to control me. I forced myself to drop the knife; to not do what I knew was inevitable.

            With strength I didn’t know I possessed my fingers loosened its grasps on the knife. And finally when I felt the knife slip from my fingers I instinctively pulled away from those caressing lips and did what I always did best, I ran away.

            I could hear the voice behind me yell after me, his voice shocked and pained. I continued to run the only thought going through my mind was that I needed to be isolated, I needed to be alone, I needed to hide within myself. As if my feet had a mind of its own it led me to the stairs connected to the balcony of my room. With stealth and quietness that I possessed I made my way up the stairs, pulled open the glass door that was thankfully unlocked, and ran to my suitcase, wanting to feel, to see something that was familiar to me.

            However before I could make it a few feet into my new bedroom I collapsed to the floor. Withering in pain that had overtook my body, its roots sprouting from the tattoo on my chest. I wanted to cry, to shed at least one tear, but I couldn’t. I was still Shaitan Kill and I would have to die before I ever showed weakness, even if it was in the comfort of my own room and/or surroundings. I wasn’t weak.

            I bit down on my jaw pushing away the pain and forcing myself to stand upright. I made my way to the bathroom and stripped off my clothes before I got into the shower.