"she was the type of person who'd explain how she was going to stab you in the front before she actually shoved the knife in... and you'd let her.
she'd probably even pass the knife to you so you can shove it in your own chest...and you would."
tom...
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f l i n g i n g o p e n his bedroom door, Tom was satisfied when the thing cracked against the wall. He wanted the girl down the hall to know how furious he was. For everyone in the house to hear his wild temper. He was done placating to Evelyn's whims.
He ripped his notebook out from its hiding place and began plotting against her. She was a distraction. A threat. A blatant disrespect to his title and his mission. How had he even allowed her to go on for so long? How had he become so enraptured by her?
Her claim of control over him just furthered his need to get rid of her. No one before her had even hinted at coming close to his level of power. His willingness to succeed, yet she had blown past all of his abilities. Had made him vulnerable to her words, her touch. He hated it, and she needed to go because of it.
The more he wrote, the more he was sure it would happen. There would be so much to gain and so little to lose. Only Evelyn would be lost. One girl on the way to conquering the world. And isn't that what he wanted? The whole point of conquering something is so that nobody can control you ever again. The entire reason for using Evelyn was to get there. He would not allow it to be the other way around.
And the more he wrote, the more self-hatred boiled inside him. He had allowed it all to go so far. Had crawled to her in his time of need. He had let her become important to him, and she had always planned to take advantage of it. He should have never thought he was the one in charge.
The clock struck ten when he finally broken his quill and had decided Evelyn was not worth another. He closed his notebook and tucked it back into its hiding place under his mattress. He hadn't yet settled down into bed when the screaming began.
Tom's eyes immediately went to the clock at the side of his bed; his mouth tugged down in annoyance. Seven minutes after ten, it read. Not even a minute passed when he heard the slight opening and closing of the door down the hall. The hurried footsteps of Evelyn rushing down the long corridor.
He assumed Evelyn must be whispering, for he couldn't make out any noise besides the screaming, which was growing in volume. Tom listened as Evelyn gave up and returned to her room. There was a part of him that didn't care. That wanted to put up a silencing spell and be done with the whole thing, but he wanted to know what Evelyn would do. Wanted to hear her in pain.
It was sick of him, but that was what excited him. Being the only one to have ever known Evelyn in this state. To be witness to her suffering. And he was rewarded with his patience. Not even a half hour later, Evelyn could be heard returning to the end of the hall.
"Please! Mam! Please!" Evelyn begged, louder than the screams, straining to be heard. "plîs mam, plîs plîs wnei di." She went on her Welsh pleas, just as mournful.
