Malum part 2

“You got it, baby.”

I grip harder until I feel the muscles and tissue beneath her skin click and her face turn puffy. Leaning down, my eyes search hers.

“Look at me, Peyton.”

Her eyes fly to mine as I squeeze harder, then I slam her onto her back and climb onto her chest. I press down brutally until I know her airways are blocked off.

“You suffocated my little girl. You knew she was dying under your action.”

Tears start streaming down my face as my heart once again splits open from what Peyton had done. How could you kill a baby?

“You showed no mercy. You were relentless. Now it’s my turn. Open your eyes, so I can watch as the life slips from your worthless body and your soul gets dragged to hell.”

Her face is purple now, the result of her gasping for air with desperation. Memories attempt to flash in my head of us when we were little, but at the end of every memory, all I wish for is that I had killed her back then. Her eyes start rolling back and I lean into her ear, my grip remorseless.

“I’ll be here until my fucking hand cramps, Peyton. Can you feel your organs shutting down? Your heart slowing as it takes its final beats? The blood desperately crashing through your veins, chasing life it doesn’t deserve?”

Her body feels limp and I lean back, her head fallen to the side, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. I thought it would be satisfying, putting an end to her, and it somewhat is. But I still have anger inside of me. She still got out of that too easy.

“I’ll meet you in hell, bitch.” I spit on her face just as arms wrap around my stomach, bringing me to my feet. I don’t have to look back to know that it’s Nate. My body responds to him whether I want it to or not.

“It’s done.” He kisses my nape. “But I need to leave my mark.”

I step backward, gesturing to her dead corpse. “Be my guest.”

Nate steps forward, removing his shirt and giving it to me. A small gesture that means so much. He’s calculating, flicking an army knife between his fingers. He leans over the top of her and cuts her shirt off. I watch as he sinks the knife into her chest, over her sternum, and slices her with seamless precision, all the way down to her belly button. My stomach churns, so I look away for a second. When I hear slushing, gushing and heavy things falling to the concrete floor, I close my eyes. Don’t do it. Don’t look at what he’s doing. The room is silent, with nothing but the sound of, what I’m guessing is organs falling to the ground and the strong scent of metal suffocating me. I hold my breath. But I feel him in front of me. My eyes slowly open and find their way up to him. He’s watching me carefully, searching mine with something else this time. Peace? Tranquility?

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

I can see the blood on his chest, but I don’t care. I lean up on my tiptoes and crash my lips against his. He doesn’t move into me. He simply opens his mouth wide and licks me across my lips as I devour him. Losing myself in all that is him. He consumes me more than anything in this world, the feeling is stronger than love. It’s stronger than hate, or pain. He smothers me and owns every single bit of who I am. Something wet, hard, and heavy drops into my palms and I pull away out of instinct, but his hand grabs mine, forcing it back on. I squirm, my lips moving against his.

“What is it?”

He shuffles back enough to watch me. “Look at it.”

“I don’t really want to. Also don’t really want to hold it. Whatever it is…”

He repeats. “Look at it.”

I suck in a breath and then my eyes drop to my hands. Her bloody heart rests in the palms of my hands, the cardiac valves and tissue still hanging from the organ. My legs start shaking and my stomach churns.

“Nate…”

“She took ours, so we take hers.” He brings the tip of his knife into the center of it and sinks it down, until blood streams between my fingers. “We done?”

I nod, dropping the heart to the ground. “Yes. We’re done.”

Nate looks over my shoulder. He nods at The Kings and then curls his arm around my neck, pulling me into him. “Good. I’m hungry.”

We all start making our way out of the cell and just before we leave out of sight, I turn around slightly and take a mental picture of the sight inside the cell. Peyton torn open from the chest, and her bloody dead heart on the dirt-ridden floor with Nate’s knife lodged into it.

“Peace out, bitch.”