Chapter 4: A Love For Pain
1301 Words
-Phoenix-
I ended my mother’s life. It wasn’t a lie. I could still recall the thickness of her blood, staining the ground. Her pleas and cries echoed in my memory. I witnessed the transformation in her eyes from fear to emptiness. My mother was a kind woman. She didn’t deserve what I did to her. I did it out of my capability to do so, to prove a point. I was deeply disturbed. This was one of the many reasons why I couldn’t embrace the beautiful female who was evidently my mate. My hands weren’t just stained with blood. They were drenched, and the stain would never fade.
“Were you coerced?” Chris inquired.
“No.”
“You took your mother’s life willingly?”
“Yes.”
“Why?!” he inquired.
“To assert something.”
“That’s twisted, dude,” he remarked. “Does Hunter genuinely trust you?”
I couldn’t say. When I encountered Hunter... well, actually, I found him. There was quite a bounty on his head not too long ago. I didn’t really need the money. I did it for the satisfaction of overpowering someone, having them at my mercy. The idea of eliminating an alpha, someone as unstable as Hunter, excited me. Oh, the thrill of it. I wanted to experience it firsthand, to feel the adrenaline rush of facing potential death, and I hoped Hunter could provide that.
“Who knows? Nonetheless, he keeps me close,” I replied.
“Can’t fathom why,” Chris remarked. “A mother killer I can’t say I would trust. Tell me, was she unpleasant?”
I shook my head.
“No, she was kind. Decent. She never mistreated me.”
“And yet you ended her life?” he queried.
“Yes, and if you had dared to risk your mother’s life, neither of us would be here right now.”
“You’re messed up,” he retorted.
“I know, but that doesn’t alter the fact that you failed. Once again.”
“Shut up!” he growled. “I was trying to save her life.”
“What life, I might ask?”
“What? Hers!” he exclaimed.
“But you depicted her as broken, and if your father had allowed multiple males to—”
“That’s enough!” he growled, his true alpha strength surfacing, causing the small light dangling from the ceiling to sway. “That’s enough…”
“I’m simply pointing out that it doesn’t seem like she had much life left in her. You might have actually done her a favor,” I remarked.
He shook his head, refusing to acknowledge me, as he stared at the wall again. But it was the truth. Everything I said was true. His mother had endured abuse long before this chaos began. Sometimes, death truly was a mercy. I begged for it for years until I embraced the darkness, and every time I felt the urge to harm myself, I directed it towards someone else. Simple as that.
“You failed,” I repeated.
“You’re starting to sound like my father,” he growled softly, his hands clenching into fists.
I was getting under his skin. Good. Perhaps he would begin to understand my standpoint because he grated on my nerves as well. He wanted to converse. Fine, let’s converse, but if he couldn’t handle the truth, then he was speaking to the wrong individual.
“Hmm, then at least one of us is,” I teased him.
He turned his head before shaking it, looking at me with disbelief shining in his eyes.
“At least your father had the guts to stake everything,” I remarked.
“F*ck you!”
“No thank you. I don’t like being touched,” I stated.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he exclaimed.
“You don’t want to know.”
He continued to shake his head at me, ready to continue our conversation, but then the moment between us was interrupted as another horrific scream pierced the air.
“Hopefully she will shut up soon,” I remarked.
“You are insane. Why don’t you work for my father?” he inquired. “Or maybe you do…”
“I don’t work for anyone. Haven’t for a long time,” I informed him.
“You work for Hunter.”
“Hunter... Hunter and I have an... an understanding,” I replied.
“What the f*ck does that mean?” he demanded.
I shrugged again, not wanting to delve into details. I had hoped that him knowing about my sick nature might dissuade him from further questioning, but the inquiries persisted relentlessly. I was tired of this. I just wanted to close my eyes, retreat into that distant place in my mind, and not have to listen to either him or the queen.
“It means Hunter knows when not to be the alpha,” I explained.
“Again, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Either he is your alpha, or he is not,” he insisted.
I sighed, not wanting to engage in this discussion. The thing was, nobody could truly control me, and I never truly submitted. I was... I was my own person, even if at times I wished someone would take control from me. I oscillated between the two desires: the need for control and the desire to relinquish it. So, if these individuals started to torture me, they would soon discover just how disturbed I truly was. The thought of a knife cutting into my skin or a whip striking my back sent delightful shivers down my spine.
“Neither,” I retorted.
“Something must have made you like this,” he asserted.
“Oh? Why do you think that?”
“Because no one is born as sick as you.”
“Probably not,” I conceded. “But there’s always a first.”
“So you’re telling me you’re a psychopath?” he inquired.
“A psychopath would have manipulated his way out of here by now,” I pointed out.
“Very true. And a psychopath would also be on my father’s side,” he observed, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I don’t like your father,” I stated bluntly.
“No? You don’t like winning?”
“I don’t like bastards like him. Reminds me too much of my own,” I confessed.
“Aha! So, there we have it. A bastard father who probably beat or tortured you!”
“No, he never raised a hand to me,” I revealed.
“Then he terrorized you!” he exclaimed. “Messing with your mind does something too.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Then what?!” he pressed. “How does he remind you of mine if he didn’t do any of those things?”
“Weakness.”
“Sorry?” he questioned.
“Your father is weak.”
“Have you seen where we are?” he countered.
“I have, but your father is still weak. Only the weak ones resort to breaking others in order to rule them. They have to seize everything by force because they know no one will respect them otherwise.”
“So, your father did hurt you?” he inferred.
“No, he didn’t. Someone else did, but they liberated me rather than allowing me to become like my father,” I disclosed. “And for that, I was grateful.”
“Sounds messed up.”
“Perhaps to you, but then again, I easily ended my father’s life, not caring about what was at stake. Can you say the same?”
Chris simply glared at me before looking away, evidently finished interrogating me.
- Writer
