Sinful: Chapter 9
Fuck the watchers.
I let out a groan and shuffled to my feet from my bed, my body feeling like I’d been run over on repeat, and then dragged for miles.
A creak at my door had me looking over to see who it was.
“Hello, bunny boy,” Asylum said, cocking his head to the left at me, a tiny deranged smile on his lips that made me take a step back.
“Have a minute to. . . talk?” He raised his dark brows at me.
I swallowed hard. “All I have is time. You know that. This is my purgatory.”
He pushed off my door jamb and came fully into my room, twirling a damn fork around his fingers.
“Put your weapon away,” I muttered, not moving from my spot. I kept a close eye on the psycho as he slowly prowled my small dorm room. They’d let me out of the facility a few days ago, and I’d been here since. I’d left my door open to get some air in.
I was really great at making bad decisions.
“It’s only a weapon if I use it to carve out your eyes. Or tongue. Ever had your tongue forked out, Andrews?” Asylum stopped his perusal of my room and turned to face me. Dressed in all black, he gave off the vibes of someone who would truly fork me to death before slipping away back into the shadows he dwelled in.
“Can’t say I have,” I answered tightly.
He studied me, still twirling his damn fork. “First time for everything, right?”
I exhaled.
“What do you want, Seth?”
“Asylum,” he corrected me. “And I want to know how many times you’ve jerked off while thinking about my forever girl.”
I winced at his words but remained silent. I was sure there wasn’t a correct answer to any of it, and trying to give one would probably end with his fork jammed into my eye.
“You’re right,” he murmured, his blue eyes raking over me. I took note of the bandage wrapped around his hand. I remembered him protecting me in the woods and Church’s knife catching him.
He cocked his head to the left again.
“You remember everything, don’t you, bunny boy?”
“What do you mean?” My voice shook.
He moved to the corkboard in my room and studied the photos I had pinned to it. Me and my friends on campus. Photos of the cemetery and grounds. A picture of my dog back home. He reached out and ran his fingers lightly over a picture of me and Sirena. I stiffened, hating he was touching it.
“You’re vanilla, Andrews,” Asylum murmured, continuing to study the picture of me and Sirena. “A sweet vanilla cupcake. But you remember everything.”
I remained quiet, my aching body stiff with anticipation.
“Tell me, Vanilla, when was the last time you held your cock and thought about my forever girl?” He didn’t turn to face me. He simply continued to stare at the photograph.
When I didn’t answer, he let out a soft laugh that sent chills down my spine.
“This morning, but you hurt too much.” He turned to face me. “Yes?”
“Why are you here?” I demanded quietly, wishing I had some answer to how she was doing.
He let out another soft laugh. “She’s fine, by the way. Little crazy, but aren’t we all?”
I watched him walk to my bed and take a seat on the edge of it. He continued to twirl his fork.
“I’m here because you want what’s mine.”
I glanced to my open door, knowing he’d be on me before I’d made it halfway across the room.
He snickered. “You’re right. Run, run, as fast as you can. You can’t escape the forking boogeyman.”
“I care about her,” I said, holding my chin up.
He nodded. “You can’t possibly think you can compete with me and the watchers, right?”
“I’m not trying to.” I shrugged helplessly. “I know where I stand.”
“Good. Now that you know that, I have a job for you.” He switched gears quickly, going from murderer with a fork to psycho with a fork. There wasn’t much difference.
“I’m not interested—”
“I care not about your interest regarding the matter.” He waved me off. “I need you to go to Miss Kitty and put your dick to good use. Think you can handle that?”
I crinkled my brows at him. “Who?”
He rolled his blue eyes. “Cady. She’s poking around, trying to get to firefly. We can’t have that. My girl must rest and not be reminded of such ugly things.”
“What’s going on?”
“Sirena was harmed.” He gave me a measured look. “You fucked things up for us, Vanilla. Now I want your help fixing them.”
I scoffed at him. “I can’t help you. I can’t even help myself. And in case you forgot, the watchers will probably finish gutting me if they catch me outside my room.”
“Bunnies are fast, even wannabe ones. I’m sure you’ll be able to escape. Get to Cady. Put your dick inside her. Distract her.”
“No.” I glared at him. “I’m not like. . . that.”
He smirked. “Like what? Straight? Cut the shit. We know what you are.”
“I’ve never said I wasn’t straight—”
“Right. Your old man. I know. Get your dick wet, Vanilla. I forking need you to.”
“No. I-I can’t. I won’t.”
He stood and slowly stalked toward me. I backed away from him until I was against the wall. He didn’t stop until we were nose-to-nose. His warm breath blew across my face.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring straight into my soul and snagging all my secrets like a greedy monster.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.
He shifted, his nose brushing along my jaw as he inhaled deeply.
“Virgin,” he murmured. “How. . . Vanilla of you, sweetheart. You want to lose it to someone equally sweet. My firefly.” He moved his face away from mine and closed his eyes for a moment before snapping them open. My heart jumped into my throat as he ran his fork along my cheek.
“She’s not as sweet as you think she is. She’s our little monster. She would destroy you, Vanilla. Rip you to pretty red ribbons. That is, if the watchers didn’t get to you first.”
I let out shaky breath after shaky breath.
“You’re special. Like me,” he continued, his fork at my temple before he skimmed it to my bottom lash line. “You remember everything. You know what you were doing April fifth, a Tuesday evening, at ten at night, don’t you?”
I swallowed thickly.
“Answer me, Vanilla.”
“No.” I blinked rapidly as he teased the edge of my eye.
“You have really pretty eyes. I like them a lot. Hazel with little flecks of gold,” he murmured. “I’ve learned one doesn’t need to have both eyes to live a life where he remembers his fucking place.”
I squeezed my eyelids closed as he continued to tease me with his fork.
“They always close their eyes,” he said in a soft, sing-song voice. “They think it will save their lives. But I am a monster sent from hell to do the devil’s chores. To fuck the world and its whores. To torment and terrorize the weeping. Now tell me, Vanilla, all the secrets you’ve been keeping.”
A gasp slipped past my lips as he slowly worked one of the tines from his fork beneath my eyelid. My pulse thundered through my veins while the fear bubbled within me.
“I saw my father making a deal with Everett Church,” I choked out.
Asylum didn’t stop his trek beneath my eyelid.
“And?” he prodded softly, his body pressed against mine.
“And he found out. He sent me here. He-he always knew I was different. My memory never fades. He-he was angry after finding my-my friend kissing me in my room. He let him touch me. . .” my words became choked.
“Everett likes sweet little vanilla cupcakes.” The tine moved deeper.
A tear worked its way down my cheek at the ugly memory.
“Your father wanted to teach you a lesson,” Asylum continued softly. “What a man’s touch really felt like. When Everett was done, you were tossed aside. A trust fall. A sacrifice because you disappointed him anyway. Your father thought of you as a freak. You didn’t fight hard enough. You disgust him. But Everett. . . you entice him. He’s a collector of lost, special souls.”
The tine was nearly as deep as it could go, the cold steel pressing against my eyeball beneath my lid. I was certain one wrong move from me would end in my losing an eye.
“Do you feed Everett information?”
“No,” I choked out. “I don’t. I’m just here until I’m released.”
“You will never be released,” he murmured. “None of us will until death finds the monster holding the keys.”
I exhaled shakily.
“Now, if you’re a good cupcake, I’ll reward you with those keys. Do you want your freedom, Vanilla?”
“Yes,” I rasped.
“Then do what you’re told. Go to Cady. Distract her however you can. Tell her you’ve seen Sirena and she’s fine. That the watchers are just protective assholes. That she has the goddamn flu. Whatever your pretty, little, extraordinary mind comes up with.”
“And then?”
“And then, maybe if you do a good enough job, I’ll be closer to handing you the fucking keys. Trust me when I say God has nothing on my kingdom of paradise.” His breath feathered along my lips. “My keys open all doors. Even the doors where cupcakes wear masks and want pretty mute girls beneath a full moon. Think about it.”
And just like that, he pulled the fork free from beneath my eyelid and stepped away.
“Sirena?” I whispered.
A crooked smirk cut his lips upward.
“Paradise, Vanilla. Now get to fucking work.”