Confessions of a Killer

6 Seeking warmth

Killian:

The veranda nearly feels blistering to the touch. My bare feet enjoy the blaze of searing heat as I stroll farther out into the sunlight. Reaching the fence to lean on it, I absorb the suns rays greedily.

The woman in my bed fell asleep. Staying well past her welcome. The brunette woman resembled Char enough that I'd taken her to my bed. I'd wanted to gag her and put a paper bag over her head before long. The sounds she'd made had left me nauseous.

Still... I am a man. I was not as attentive as I would have been had she been less... grotesque isn't the word. The woman in my bed is beautiful beyond a doubt. I suppose I was just disappointed and dissatisfied. My tastes have become rather... singular.

Charlotte is irreplaceable.

Had she marked me...

The trackers inside the others proved useful. I'd sent Rodrigues to find them. The Alpha rat had been sated with the gift of one of the twelve, Ruby Tyler hadn't been much of an asset to me anyways.

I'd punished him, for killing officers under my payroll. Then rewarded him. He'd stayed behind to heal, Ruby taking over the care of him. Becoming his mate. His minions doing the work for him beyond our Pack borders.

I'm waiting for his call and update.

The sun feels pleasant on my exposed skin. A warmth I can never seem to create myself. Unless I'm Fucking. I'm addicted to it. I can admit that to myself at least.

The drugs my father pumps into me always makes me feel terrible. The serum is supposed to help modify my genetic sequence. I think I'm already fucking modified enough.

My eyes have never been the same. Although I appreciate the ocular enhancement allowing me to see clearly in whatever environment I'm in, there are side effects.

The insatiable need for sex is a large one.

The ravenous hunger in me constantly speaking through my subconscious. 'Sex-sex-sex-need-it-want-it-can't-breathe-without-it-fuck-need-wet-warm-anywhere-get-it-NOW-!" On repeat.

I can feel it burning inside me again. The lust that's never slated. Except when I was with her.

Fuck.

I never put a tracker in Charlotte. If she'd ever found it it would have been the end. I guess it's a moot point now.

She's so different now than the woman she used to be. The one I'd finally been able to introduce myself to all those years ago.

Damien would have been ashamed of me, how I'd been following her.

Now he wants to kill me.

I don't remember putting out the hit on him.

I wouldn't have fucking chosen Charlotte to do it either.

I hate the times when I'm not in control.

My ringtone sounds. Great King Rat by Queen begins with the lyrics. The entire beginning chords cut off to accommodate those that would rather hear the lyrics as their phones ring.

I prefer the music if I'm honest.

It's pure. Untainted by words crooned from the mouth of someone whose words rhyme and repeat. Music transcends language. Allowing the listener to feel with a simple cadence that which they may not have perceived before.

Unadulterated by words feelings can come across. There are very few musical artists who I'd enjoyed before the economic collapse. Or 'virus' as people are Calling it.