Deviant Vows by Anna Widzisz

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The past; Davina

Both Fiennes men instantly become pale upon seeing the dogs. Taylor glances back at me while his father’s eyes are strained on the hungry creatures beside me. A huge smile adores my expression as I see the blood dripping down from my brother-in-law’s wounds.

I step over Rainforth’s body, shoving it to the side with my boot. My breathing increases in speed at the sight before me. Unlike most people, blood doesn’t repulse me anymore. It makes me realise that I’m still alive. It shows me how fragile human life can really be.

Right now, both men are at my mercy and it’s the most thrilling feeling of all.

You never hear it happening the other way around. It’s always women who need to fight against all odds. Who need to show what they are made of.

I’m made of bad experiences, a screwed up childhood, and a thirst for revenge. It has shaped me into the monster they are looking at.

I’m walking closer to the pool of blood by Taylor’s chair as if it’s a magnet and I can’t help but feel the pull towards it. The only thing I regret is that my sister isn’t here to see what I’m about to do with her husband. It’d serve her right to experience this tearing pain and helplessness. For once in her life, she’d watch as everything she wants slides between her fingers without a possibility to get it back.

Taylor’s eyes begin to shut from the loss of blood. If I knew where to get it, and how to do it, I’d get the bags of blood along with all the necessary things to perform a transfusion. Only so I can have some more fun.

I take the knife and cut the ropes tightened around Jacob’s body. He’s not the one I want the most.

“Stop his bleeding,” I order. He hesitates, not sure whether I’m serious. What if I do it only so that I can later kill him for coming with help? “Now. I don’t have all night.”

Well, I do, but they hardly deserve to take so much of my time.

“What can I give you to you stop this madness, Davina?” Taylor whispers. His voice is weak and I can distinguish the begging. He’s not the strong and ruthless boss that I’ve had the displeasure of meeting before. He’s no one important.

I ignore the question. “Actually, Jacob,” I say. “Undress him first, then stop the bleeding. I believe he has too many clothes on.”

He doesn’t want to do it. I know he doesn’t but as I wave my gun at him with a smirk on my face, he does it. His hands are shaking and I can hear him apologising to Taylor quietly.

“Words mean nothing, Jacob,” I tell him. “I should know. I was begging your son to let me go for a long time.”

I am watching Jacob rip a part of Coldwell’s shirt and wrap it around his son’s wounds that he has created. Along with the one I caused by shooting him. The bullet must still be there.

The storm outside is getting stronger as the rain bangs against the roof and the thunder rumbles, making my skin crawl with goosebumps. I’ve always hated thunderstorms. Though, tonight it’s not the darkest and scariest thing. I’m way worse.

I gesture to the dogs to sit down and they listen, although I can see they’re looking at all the bodies laying on the floor with hunger in their eyes.

“You can’t do shit, Taylor, to stop this. There’s nothing you can say or do that’d change what happened years ago.”

He’s now naked, clothes ripped on the floor.

Jacob sits down on his chair with shame. His head hangs low.

“Don’t worry. You’re not the only father who won’t win an award for being the best parent in the world. None of those men would,” I point at the rest of the directors. They got a quick death, indeed. “Neither will my father.”

“I’m sorry, Davina,” Taylor says. The tears run down his cheeks. He knows he’s done. He knows there’s no reason to pretend because whatever happens here, begging and pleasing and perhaps crying is his only chance. Not that it’s going to work.

I shake my head, playing with the knife, switching it between my fingers.

“Your sorry means nothing.” I stand in front of him, our eyes locked. “You know what’s funny? I’m not really doing it for myself. I’m not punishing you for what you’ve done to me. No.”

I lean down, brushing the knife on his thigh. So very close to his cock.

“I’m doing it for all those girls out there who would meet you. And as a warning that no man is strong. That even a woman can show them just how pathetic and useless men are.” I touch the tip of his dick with the blade and he shifts slightly so I cut a little bit and blood starts dripping. A silent cry escapes his lips. “I hate men because of you. Do you know that?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s too focused on the knife.

“They disgust me and I don’t trust them to even stand behind me. All thanks to you.”

I throw down the gun.

And without a warning, I wrap my palm around his cock and skilfully ram my knife through it, cutting it off and throwing it to the dogs, letting them feed. They don’t hesitate and start fighting for it.

Taylor yells in pain and Jacob starts begging for mercy.

I then twist the knife through his abdomen, blood spilling. He’s not going to last much longer. Not with what I've done. But I don’t care. I just need him to feel this pain.

“You’re not going to need it anyway.”

“Davina, please stop!” Jacob screams. Now he knows what’s happening and how far I’m willing to go. I’ll go to hell. They already know me there and treat me like their queen.

Taylor’s eyes are barely open. He’s barely sitting, too.

I punch him in the face and kick him so that his chair falls down with him in it. His head bumps on the floor, the skull cracking with a loud sound. It’s thrilling how the bones breaking became my favourite sound.

It shows that no one is immortal.

Then I back down, feeling satisfied. I don’t need anything more but to see him die. I put my bloody fingers against my lips and whistle at the dogs. They stop fighting for that useless cock, which is no longer satisfying them, to begin with.

I smile widely. “Eat,” I order, and without hesitation, they jump on Taylor’s body, ripping it apart. The best kind of scene I’ve seen. It makes my stomach tighten, butterflies flying in it.

Whoever said that you need to be in love to feel them, has obviously never watched anyone being ruthlessly ripped to shreds, limb by limb.

I watch for a little longer until I cannot hear Taylor’s cries and screams anymore.

I fixate my eyes on the older man who is throwing up at his feet. He’s not looking at his son. He can’t stomach the sight. Shame.

I kick his boot, making him look at me. I gesture towards the door. “You can go now.”

He doesn’t move. He thinks I’m joking.

Dogs’ barks sound in the background.

“You’re not the one who did that so I’m letting you go. You're done with, anyway. Just remember to bow down when you see me. Remember what I’ve done to your son, and shut the fuck up about what went down here.”

And I watch him run through the front door as if he’s on fire.