Owner of my hell

Caroline

The latent rage burning any remnant of my conscience commanding all my steps towards the obscure foolishness in mistreating his flesh, I need to see with my own eyes his immorality becoming a guilt although I doubt that the devil can feel anything in front of his own sin. I prayed, to all the gods, begged each of the bible's so-called divine archangels that these feelings be purged from my soul, excommunicated from my heart and repudiated by my morals.

I discovered belatedly that I am a prisoner of my sins, each step in this dark corridor is like a step on the way to the light, even though I am going towards hell in search of the generator of my torments. The wood that coats the heavy blade of the chef's knife transforms the girl into a vengeful, spiteful, jealous woman.

I watch the unaccustomed light escaping through the space of the open door, drawing me into the home of the beast, the silence of the mansion in nothing compares to the crazed voices of my mind screaming, fighting, vying for a place without knowing how to speak or how to act, letting only the immoral take over and guide my steps. My bare feet touch the carpet, I cross the eaves of the door without breaking the silence, the little light that illuminates comes from the closet and the moon that invades the open balcony, the heavy curtains do not even move with the cold wind.

The target of my restlessness breathes deeply lying in the middle of the bed between the ivory silk sheets, the paneling combining with the rustic wooden bed frame forming waves that lead to the coat of arms carved on the panel just above his head. His divine body naked, exposed, covered only by his sweatpants, leaving the tattoos traced in each of the curves of his chest, the piercings on his nipples shining and his flat belly, the dark hair below the navel leading to the waistband. The hands adorned by silver rings the marked jaw and the diamond earring in the right ear.

Yes, the epitome of my weakness, the destroyer of every one of my princess dreams, the one who brought down the castle of what I imagined to be the world or the hope for better days. Next to him, I am just another, just a stray mortal from the herd corrupted by the illusory beauty that coats the raw evil of this man.

Another wave of wind fills the room, waking me from my laments, bringing back the rage, the hatred, the insanity, in quick steps I cut the distance and I'm on his hip on the bed immobilizing part of his body with the tip of the knife against the right side of his chest, for even in this the devil was cursed being born with the heart on the opposite side. The green orbs analyze my face, maybe the surprise but no, nothing is able to surprise him.

- Do what you came to do Carolina. - It is not a request but an order and this revolts me in an uncontrollable way.

With the tip of the knife I dig deep into his chest, tearing the flesh in a sloppy way, making the shape I want, his grunts contained between his teeth do not go unnoticed by the maniac who wants to see his agony. I feel the beats against my ears completely lost to the blood pouring from the tattooed skin, leaving a mark of me in the only way he can remember me, in a scar filled with hatred and jealousy. The letter of my name under his damn stone heart, when I finally finish carving I raise my gaze to his orbs, the gaze of a demon his huge hand covers my wrist squeezing hard making the knife fall on the sheets.

- Don't you want to kill me Carol? - Your question is a test of my sanity, but above all a question about how lost I am.

- No.

-So you came here to make a C on my chest. - I thought you'd be more creative amore mio.