Feel it.
Feel the horror of my madness.
You have seen it before? You will see it again. This time, through me. Once more. Once again. Once again.
Fear it. Live in it. Drown in it. Because no matter how fast you run, no matter how loud you scream, there is no escape. I will be there, waiting. Watching. Smiling.
Your fear is my feast.
A feast on the fate's pawn fear. It tastes marvelous.
The big man had stopped moving. His chest barely rose, barely fell, his lungs refusing to draw too much air as if even the smallest breath would shatter him. My fingers, cold and patient, curled under his chin, lifting his head with a lover's touch. His skin twitched beneath my grip.
Thump. Thump. Thump. I could feel his pulse, his body betraying him even as he tried to still it. He dared not breathe. He dared not blink. His pupils had dilated so much his irises were nearly gone. His mind had unraveled, leaving nothing but a wide, gaping abyss.
I pried his mouth open. Gently. A mother feeding her child. Tender. Loving.
The ripped out cocoon layer was still warm. Still pulsing. Flesh wrapped tight, glistening wet with a thin membrane of red. I cradled it between my fingers, feeling it tremble, feeling it breathe. It was aware.
And it was waiting.
I placed it on his tongue. He whimpered. A pathetic, broken sound. His jaw quivered, as if in some last, futile resistance—but then, it moved. Slithering. Writhing. It stretched, expanding down his throat, dragging itself into the depths of him.
And then it began.
His body stiffened. His fingers twitched, then clawed at the air. The veins in his throat bulged, darkening to something thick and unnatural, as if something inside him was pushing out. His stomach convulsed, his ribs rising like something was writhing beneath them. I could feel it—see it crawling inside him. His blood churned, thickening, black veins creeping under his skin like something alive.
His breath hitched. His lips curled in an unnatural, silent scream.
The thing inside him was burrowing. Digging deep. I could feel it. I could see it. A lump forming in his gut, pushing outward, stretching the skin until it was taut and trembling. His organs swelled, reshaping, shifting as if making room for something new.
He jerked violently, eyes rolling back, body seizing, limbs snapping stiff as the thing inside him fed.
I watched. Smiling.
He was part of it now. He would feel it soon.
He would become it.
And when he did, I would watch him feed.
A thunderous bang cracked through the air. A bullet. Straight to my skull.
My head snapped to the side, my neck twisting unnaturally before I turned back, slow, deliberate. I moved. I moved when I shouldn't have. I should have fallen. I should have died. But instead, I turned to face him.
The one brave enough to shoot.
The one I had already promised to kill first.
There he stood—the gunman. His hands trembled around the weapon, his breath shallow, his pupils wide. He had fired, yes. Not in courage. Not in defiance.
But in terror.
And oh, how magnificent.
I hadn't even finished devouring this tyrant, and yet you— you, little fool, had thrown yourself onto my plate. A willing snack before the grand feast.
The big man could wait.
I stepped forward. Slowly. Leisurely. Savoring every second of his unraveling mind. The gunner struggled to reload, his fingers fumbling, slick with sweat, shaking too hard to work the mechanism properly. How adorable. Even knowing it was useless, he tried.
I could have ended it there. Ripped the weapon from his feeble hands. But where was the fun in that?
Hope. I had to give him hope. Just enough to drown him in despair.
So I slowed my steps, but not my smile.
His breathing hitched. His pulse thundered. He snapped the chamber shut. A bullet loaded. Aimed.
Pointed at me.
He hesitated. Oh, how I loved that hesitation.
I reached out, gentle as silk, curling my fingers around his trembling hand, then over the cold steel of his gun. My skin pressed against his. He was burning up. Fear had turned his body into a furnace. I leaned in, pressing the barrel to my forehead, watching him with expectant, half-lidded eyes.
I waited.
Shoot.
Shoot me.
He didn't.
Oh, but being this scared won't do. It would ruin my feast. It would ruin my performance. This moment—this beautiful, terrifying stage that fate had built for me—deserved more.
So I shifted the gun.
From my forehead... to my eye.
His breath hitched, a strangled sound escaping his throat. I lifted my fingers, resting them delicately on his—on the trigger.
A giggle slipped out.
Then a chuckle.
Then a laugh—a bright, joyful laugh.
And then—
BAM.
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So, I am thinking of writing another fanfic. Something short but fast paced. Kind of like a reader attractor for this novel. So if you have any suggestion for the new fanfic. Shower me with it.
Though it will take some time. After I stockpile few weeks worth of Chapter for this fanfic. Still give me some suggestion. If I like it I will make it. Though it will have a different writing style than this fanfic. Less descriptive and not some unique MC. Just the generic MC in a kind of a wish fulfillment novel.