Soulbound to the devil

Chapter 6- "Go on, I have to be someone's nightmare..."

Killian whispered, "Carve out the left; another second late, then both." His voice, a barely audible rasp, still sent a shiver down Ivy's spine. She finally looked up, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him.

The escaped gasp – a strangled sound – was the only acknowledgment she needed of the sheer terror that had just unfolded. Phill, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and pain, hesitated only a fraction of a second before plunging the knife into his left eye.

A scream, raw and agonizing, tore through the soundproof room. Blood gushed, staining the floor a sickening red. Ivy watched, frozen, almost losing it, a nauseating wave of revulsion washing over her.

She couldn't look away, though. Not from the sickeningly sweet satisfaction that gleamed for a split second in the killer's eyes, hidden behind the mask, before he pulled his hood low.

Darkness. It defined him. That was Killian Carter.

"Now that should keep your eyes off what's mine," Killian muttered calmly, with a cold edge to it. Phill groaned, the poison already working its way through. Ivy’s stomach churned. The casual cruelty, the chilling indifference… it was terrifying.

A million thoughts raced through Killian’s head, chaotic, violent and twisted. He spoke again, his voice low, dark, daring, commanding absolute silence.

“Take a step, and I'll kill you.” The words hung in the air, heavy with menace. Ivy stopped dead in her tracks, his voice laced with a chilling authority that silenced her. Ivy turned, wanting to refute, to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks in fear.

" What I thought of him seems to be the exact opposite of who he is. He's terrifying. I need to get out of here, but how?". She thought, her heart pounding against her ribs.

Fragile my foot!

He was the devil himself, a predator lurking in the shadows. "My god, he’s everything I thought he wasn’t."

“I guess we’re done here,” Killian said, his gaze cold and hard. He didn't wait for a response, his single glance a definitive full stop to whatever she might have said.

Phill trembled violently, his hand clamped over his empty eye socket. Killian had casually ground his heel into the discarded eyeball. But what do they say?

Born a sinner? Die a sinner?

Phill's right eye trailed after Ivy's ass, which definitely didn't go unnoticed, his gaze lingering on her with a disturbing intensity. Killian smirked, a cruel twist of his lips that sent a fresh wave of icy dread through Ivy. He moved towards the door, his steps deliberate, almost out the door. He paused, giving Ivy one last, empty stare.

"No, you wouldn't… God, please," Phill begged. Ivy stood frozen, fear crushing her. "Of course she would", Killian's response was a chilling blend of sadistic amusement and cold calculation. He waved his hand. “If she doesn’t do it, kill her,”

Ivy stared at the gun, her hand trembling. Another sin. She wasn't a sinner, but she was about to become one. His life was in her hands, but hers… hers was still in Killian's grasp. "What's his name again? I'm so scared, I can't even remember. Why would he even care if I was alive? No one would, except me, right?

The silencer muffled the shot, but Ivy still instinctively covered her ears. The sound, even muted, was deafening. Boss Phill was gone, and the weight of his death settled heavily on her shoulders.

"What would Sera think if she saw me in hell?"

Ivy's shoulders slumped, the brutal scene reminding her of the same dejected feeling she had 14 years ago as she watched fire consume everywhere, but this time, the fire was inside her, threatening to consume her. Tears finally flowed as she collapsed to the ground.

As darkness closed in, she seemed to hear the deep call of someone, but it ended up swallowing her whole. Only the void remained, and the chilling memory of his eyes. "I remember his name now… Killian."

****

Three days later

Hyce’s voice held a nervous edge: “She did it, boss, but she won’t wake up.” He was Killian's right-hand man.

The library had stacks of books, highly spaced and only seemed to be a place with a touch of lots of wooden artistry. Yet he only took a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze distant and cold.

"If she spends three days recovering from shooting a gun, what if she had to chop off fingers?" he mused, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He flicked the cigarette into the ashtray, the gesture as cold and precise as everything else about him.

"Marcus?" he asked, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "We're waiting for your orders, boss," Hyce replied promptly, his voice tight with barely controlled anxiety. Killian gave a slow, chilling grin.

"Prepare a feast tonight… My little vixen must have been waiting all along for me to wake her up personally. Set up the death box for Marcus. Invite everyone…"

"Including him?!" Hyce cut in, in total shock and impending fear. Killian hesitated, a flicker of something that might have been thought, but definitely wasn’t good, crossing his face.

He grabbed Hyce's shoulders, his grin widening. "Of course! "He's family, and we don't leave family behind, right?" The words were laced with such heavy sarcasm that Hyce could only nod.

Killian released him, and Hyce sucked in a huge, relieved breath. But before he could exhale fully, Killian's dark eyes locked onto his, his chin raised, a finger extended, and Hyce visibly flinched. The amusement in Killian's eyes was palpable.

"They need to know who the boss lady is, now don't they?" he whispered, his voice dropping to a near inaudible murmur. Hyce froze.

"Don't be shocked… Go on. I have to be someone's nightmare…"

They called him crazy, a barbarian, a killer, a devil whatnot. He didn't bother to deny it anymore. What did it matter? All that mattered was the little doll lying on his bed, waiting.

"You're going to be my little caged bird…"