Death’s New Pet: Love after Life

“Then stop getting in mine.” The cheeky little bitch spits at me. My fingers hum with the desire to strike her across the face or to wrap around her throat and squeeze until she is begging for me to stop. The way she just spluttered and fought me just then is still ringing around my memory. My cock is still throbbing and longing for her small hand to curl around it. Holy fuck. She’s so close, I can smell her anger, the lives that she’s claimed. I need her. In the most violent way possible. I want her to fight and scream and hate me. She needs to throw all her madness at me.

My fingers snatch around her arm and I grip it tightly until it turns purple through the gaps in her tracksuit material. She bares her teeth but disappointingly, doesn’t make a sound.

“Hand me the knife.”

“No, I need it.”

The vein in the side of my forehead pops at her blatant disregard for fear and reason. “You’ve lost that privilege.”

“What if I need to cut my food?”

“You should have thought about that before you tried to cut the head off another contestant.” I flash my fangs to try and intimidate her. She barely flinches and instead twiddles the knife in her fingers. For a moment, for the briefest second, for the tiniest pause, it looks as though she’s going to plunge the weapon into my chest. Again, for the third time today, the little girl thinks she can kill the God of Death.

‘Fuck yes, little mortal. Fuck us up. Give us a reason to punish you and release our tormented sexual desires onto you.’

“Fine.” Surprisingly, she gives up without a large fight, and disappointment settles in my chest. I wanted to feel her violence and anger. Something twinkles in her eyes as she comes up with another devious plan and I really really want to find out what she is planning but I also long to be surprised.

“That’s a good little mortal.” I resort to teasing to get a reaction out of her. Her nostrils flare angrily, and her eyes darken but she makes no retort. A shame. Instead, she shoves the knife flat against my chest and drops it, making me move quickly to stop it from falling.

‘She is trying to control us, the little bitch!’

With a snap of my fingers, the room roars to life again before my angry beast can slip out. The commotion explodes with anger and fury as they scutter away from one another. Prey Seven shrieks as he grabs his throat which has a slight trail of blood dripping down. My fangs extend and my tongue shoots between my lips. The overwhelming urge to claim his life and drain him overpowers me. Or even more sinfully, I want to hand her the knife again and fist my cock as she kills him for me.

Startled by the intrusive thought, I put some more distance between us as if that would help.

“She tried to kill me!” he hollers in horror. He makes a whole scene of throwing his arms around, and snapping his head left and around to convince witnesses to advocate for him. His blubbering girlfriend drops to her knees in front of him and tries to scoop up the blood. It makes the corner of my lips twitch.

“If she wanted you dead, you’d be dead,”

All blood drains from his face when he stares at me, leering over them. He stumbles on his words, truly frightened. The others aren’t much better at hiding their fear. What is it with mortals and their pathetic nature?

My eyes skim the room one last time, absentmindedly searching for that little challenge of a mortal, but she’s gone. I see the furthest bedroom door slam behind her as she marches away from me. My fingers curl into fists and the smoke pours out of my body in anger. My nostrils flare and the tips of my fangs begin to ache.

‘Punish her. Punish her. Punish her!’

With one snap of my fingers, I’m no longer in the contestant’s home but back in the arena. I need to put as much fucking distance as I can between me and that challenge. The beast longs to burst out and hurt her beyond repair before fucking the remaining bits of her.

Prey Nine is splattered against the floor, guts hanging out and brains decorating the arena wall. There is a howl of celebration amongst the audience. Then, suddenly, Prey Eight appears in the arena, mortified and stumbling as she tries to regain her balance. The floor begins to move. Her trial begins and I’m forced to play the part of enthusiastic host, even though my darkest thoughts are imagining the death of the mortal.

“Did you find out what that energy was? What was happening?” My mother’s soft voice wraps around my head. She was the one who sent me when the lights started flickering. I felt the anger in the realm before I saw it with my own eyes. I could feel lifelines depleting and heart rates spiking. And they sent me like I’m a fucking babysitter. I could have resisted, sure, but that perverse part of me longed to see the little mortal in action.

“A fight.”

“Between?”

“What a stupid question, mother!” my sister quips. “It’s Prey Ten. I knew she’d be an entertaining contestant. But she must save the killing and entertainment for my audience, I can’t have her killing off people behind closed doors. Where is the fun in that?”

“Good luck with that.” My mother scoffs. “She’s set on killing people.”

Misery’s face flashes with some dry humour. “Maybe she is the perfect pet for you then, Death.”

“There is no perfect pet for me. I will kill the winner as soon as these stupid trials are done, that was the deal.”

“We’ll see,” she says cryptically. It makes my skin crawl the way she twists her lips into a sickening grimace.

A horrifying shriek rings around the arena as Prey Eight falls from a height that shatters the bones in her leg. It’s a delicious sound and has me readjusting my pants again. For a brief moment, my challenging little mortal flashes into my mind. I pretend it’s her screams, her pain, her torture. I want to see blood, sweat, and tears staining her creamy body, to hear her beg for mercy, plead for the torture to stop. And yet, no matter how I picture it, the deranged little mortal has a lazy smile spread across her face as I do all those things to her body. It’s as if she enjoys the darkness I have to offer. It’s unnerving, but at the same time it makes my stomach twist deliciously and my body hum to life.

“I can’t believe that you’re going to let her do all those things and get away with it unpunished,” Misery snaps me from my thoughts. She sinks back into her chair, bringing her martini glass to her lips and sips at it. Not once does she spare a glance at me. I know she’s trying to wind me up, get me to snap and act out. That sick and twisted part of her would love it if I killed all the contestants prematurely so that I’d get in trouble and punished. There is nothing more my family loves than watching each other suffer. I bet she will offer her own curse up to punish me.

My fists squeeze shut, and I try to ignore her. “What makes you think I haven’t already punished her?”

She completely ignores me. “Maybe you were right brother, maybe we have gotten weak as a family. I mean the old you would have snapped her pretty little head in half for daring to kill your Goblin.” Her eyes widen as if she’s come to some sort of discovery. “Oh my goodness, and she tried to kill another contestant! I bet you’re itching to punish her. She’s stealing your job, Death, and she is very good at it. Or have you just gotten bad at it? Hmm…” She ponders on the thought, letting me simmer on the anger that bubbles up in my chest.

“Fuck off, Misery.”

She readjusts herself in her chair and frowns into nothingness. “See, if it were me, she’d be so badly punished she wouldn’t be able to walk in the next trial. I’d give her something to think about, remind her of her place. She is a lowly mortal and must remain as much—”

“It’s not going to work,” I hiss between gritted teeth.

She finally spares me a glance, inspecting my reaction, desperate for my anger to slip out and for me to kill everyone. She’s always looking for a way to get me punished and banished to my realm. I try my best to look unfazed but the black mist seeps from me, my whole body is tense and ready to pounce. I want to snap my sister’s head in half and drain the life out of my parents. And I so fucking desperately long to sneak back into the contestant’s home to teach that little mortal a lesson in punching above her station. I desire everybody’s suffering and death. The black in my eyes throb as the beast creeps to the surface.

Misery laughs as she sinks back into her throne with a pleased smile. “It already has.”