by Con Template
My watchful eyes perused the lot to ensure that no one was around to witness what I was about to do.
Wind was howling as the dark clouds continued to hover overhead. Above me, I could hear the skies rumble softly, preparing for a storm. Thankfully, no man-made sound crept into my ears. Although I could not see anyone in the parking lot, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was another presence close to me.
The remembrance of my imaginary Demon thrust into my mind, but I ejected that thought as soon as it appeared. Who’d want to unlock that package of crazy when I was already about to do something crazy? I erased all thoughts about the imaginary Demon from my mind. When I was absolutely sure that the coast was clear, I withdrew one of the knives I had just purchased.
Heart racing in excitement, I eyed the tires of the Lamborghini and went to town, slashing the tires with anger and without mercy.
Hiss.
Hiss.
Hiss.
Hiss.
One by one, the tires that once held the Lamborghini upright deflated under duress. Stunned that the alarm hadn’t gone off after my first round of vandalism, I smiled to myself. That bastard didn’t even think to protect his car by remembering to trigger the alarm. I laughed internally. He was going to pay dearly for his neglect.
Not even close to being done with my brandishing, I ran to the hood of the car. With much satisfaction, I stabbed the knife into the center of the hood. Exerting slow and deliberate strength, I moved the tip of the knife downwards, earning a soft screech of pain from the vehicle as the expensive yellow paint curled around my knife, following its every move with swift obedience.
I replayed everything in my mind: the thought of the bastard slapping Sony, the thought of him making Sony cry, the thought of him talking down to me, and the thought of me not being able to stand up to him. I recounted all of that, and it became my catalyst as I mercilessly butchered the luxurious car. My eyes were unblinking with rage and joy while I did the damage. I could do this all night if I wasn’t so afraid of getting caught. Recalling that I had two others waiting for me, I instructed myself to finish what I needed to do so that I could get on with my life. I didn’t want to get caught.
With a trail of scattered paint flying into the air, I pulled the knife away with a satisfied smirk. I read the message I wrote on the once extravagant Italian car:
Next time, buy a Ferrari, bitch.
A huge smile streaked across my lips. The constriction that once plagued my chest dispersed completely. I could breathe again. Throwing the knife back into the shopping bag after I was done, I made sure to assess the area around me to make sure that I cleared anything and everything that could be traced back to me. When I determined that everything was clear, I broke into a sprint and hurried back to the cab.
“Are we done, Grace?” Sony asked after I hopped into the cab. His tears were completely dried up at this point. “Did we get everything we need? Are we good now?”
I nodded at Sony, happily handing him an ice cream bar I purchased when I ran back inside the second time around.
“Yeah,” I replied happily. I couldn’t control the smile of satisfaction whenever I thought about what I did with the bastard’s car. I felt proud. If Sony knew how I punished that jackass, he would’ve been happy too.
“Everything’s done. I’m definitely good now.”
“He will not only overpower you, but he will also destroy you.”
0 5: Dimmed Demon
The rest of the day went by very quickly.
After Sony and I returned from our shopping excursion, it didn’t take long for his sadness to be swept away by the company of his hyperactive friends. And just like Sony, it didn’t take long for me to be swept away by the children’s excitement.
We spent a good hour of the day decorating the estate before the pumpkin-carving contest began. The pastor arrived just in time to be named a judge, along with his wife and myself. We playfully critiqued and gave praises to every single pumpkin and announced the winner to be Sony and his mom. By the time six o’ clock rolled around, the kids were all sitting in the upstairs living room, enjoying their snacks while watching one of the movies I brought. By seven, I was out the door, hugging everyone and heading back into the city to do my evening yoga before I called it a night.
“Have a good evening, miss,” one of the guys at the front desk said to me as I pivoted around the gym’s reception desk.
I was dressed from head to toe in one of my favorite yoga outfits: a pink tank top, light blue yoga shorts, and light blue platform flip-flops. To add to this already bubbly outfit, I also had my hair tied up in a high ponytail that bounced with each step out of the gym.
“Thank you,” I said sweetly, relaxed now that I had done my nightly yoga. Holding onto my blue yoga mat, I smiled and waved at him. “You have a good evening as well. Good night!”
Sighing in utter happiness, I stepped into the busy pedestrian traffic and enjoyed myself as I walked home in the cool night. Though the weather had gotten exponentially colder since I was last outside, the arctic-like cold did little to suppress the swarm of butterflies that had taken over my stomach. I had a fantastic day and felt like I was on top of the world.
The walk back home was nice, completely blissful for the first couple of blocks as I eased out of pedestrian traffic and immersed myself into the quiet street. It wasn’t until I felt a single raindrop fall from above and hit me in the face that my mood dampened.
I glanced up towards the dark skies and moaned, crestfallen that the sky was quite literally raining on my parade. So much for my victory walk. I paused to readjust my Birkin bag over my shoulder and pulled out my small Burberry umbrella. I was in the process of opening my umbrella when a familiar voice awakened every paranoid nerve in my body and dispelled the victorious spell I was under.
“What a naughty girl you’ve been today, Gracie.”
My bloodstream stuttered to a stop when I recognized the sexy voice I once deemed as a figment of my imagination.
Shit.
Holy shit.
It can’t be. It just can’t be, I told myself in desperation.
I had been having an arguably normal and sane day. My mind couldn’t be fucked up again. There was no way in hell he was standing there beside me—actually existing again. I rationalized this, but no matter how desperate my mind was, my eyes did not participate in the hopeful endeavor. I turned towards the direction of the voice, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t see anyone.
To my horror, there he was—the sinfully drop-dead gorgeous Demon himself. He was standing beside me with a black umbrella of his own. Dressed in all-black business attire with a cigarette between his lips and a breathtaking smile on his beautiful face, he looked as real as could be.
My heart plummeted to my stomach at the confirmation that the “nonexistent” Demon was actually back in my life. As a result, I did the only instinctive thing I could do in my time of panic and outrage: I attacked him.
“Ahhhhh! Why are you back? You’re not even real!” I shouted, impulsively pressing the little button on my umbrella in my moment of fear. In seconds, the metal spring of the umbrella was released from its captivity and shot up in the direction of the nonexistent one’s jaw.
“What the fuc—!” His words collapsed in his throat once the umbrella made contact with his jaw.
Blooming into a full-blown polyester weapon, my unlikely bludgeon knocked the cigarette out of his mouth, triggering him to lose hold of his umbrella while he cradled his assaulted jaw.
Desperate to take advantage of his moment of weakness, I supplemented the attack by lifting my bag in the air and smacking him across the face with it.
Bam!
“Bloody hell, woman!” he roared, nearly losing his balance when my heavy satchel pounded his face.
Not finished with my show of aggression and wanting to further immobilize him, I strategically used the tip of the umbrella and pummeled it into his stomach as I would a shovel
to the ground. I was hoping that the extra attack would have him doubling over in surrender. Much to my dismay (and awe-like amazement), his abs were rock-hard. It felt like I had just driven my umbrella into a steel wall as opposed to someone’s abdomen. Eyeing him for a terrified second now that the momentum of my attack was gone, I used the last measure that I knew would force him to the ground . . .
I kneed his balls.
“Motherfuc—!”
The rest of his curses never came out as he fell to the ground. Groans poured from him while he not only cradled his bloody lips, but also his assaulted family jewels.
I used this moment to make my escape.
I tossed my umbrella-turned-bludgeon aside, threw my bag back over my shoulder, and took off like a cute fat kid running after an ice cream truck. I ran so fast that I lost one of my flip-flops, but I didn’t care. Considering the state of fear I was in, I could have lost my crazily expensive bag and I wouldn’t have given a flying shit!
“Damn it, woman!” I heard him roar after me, pain throbbing in his hoarse voice. “Didn’t you scream enough last night? Why the hell did you attack me?!”
You had got to be shitting me. You had got to be shitting me.
Leaving the supposed “Demon” on the sidewalk, I ran straight for my apartment complex. Moments later, I barreled into the hallway and torpedoed my ass into my apartment. Once inside, I made a beeline towards my bedroom in a paranoid frenzy.
“This can’t be happening,” I muttered to myself, locking the door and jumping into bed. I threw my white faux fur comforter over my head and willed myself to fall asleep. I was hoping that getting some shut-eye would put an end to this strange night. Perhaps if I got some sleep the “Demon” would disappear and I would become normal again. My heart rate tripled in speed while I tried to assure myself that none of this was actually taking place. “This isn’t happening. There’s no Demon. There is absolutely no Demon outside my apartment. I’m just imagining this. I’m just dreaming again. I’m just—”
“Gracie . . .”
“Ahh!” I flinched once I felt the “nonexistent” Demon place a hand over my comforter-covered shoulder. “Get away from me, you nonexistent freak!”
“Gracie,” I heard the Demon call out from above the comforter. His voice teemed with adoration at my behavior. “Gracie, please don’t be like this. I’m not going to hurt you.”
When I remained underneath the comforter, I could hear him chuckling. The warm fluctuation of his laughter sent waves of pleasure unto my body. I didn’t understand what was happening. How could I be feeling like this when it was all too apparent that I was losing my mind?
“Gracie,” he prompted, his gentle voice filled with need. “You have no idea how much you’re tempting me right now, laying on that bed as if beckoning for me to join you. Now stop ignoring me and peek your pretty little head out because I swear to the God-who-will-never-answer-me, if you get me on that bed with you, it’ll take a swarm of Archangels to get me out. And considering that I’m a thousand times stronger than any of those bastards, you can bet that I’m never getting out once I cover my naked body over yours. So will you continue to tempt me or will you come out?”
It shouldn’t have turned me on.
His words most definitely shouldn’t have turned me on, but they did. And because of this travesty, I was more afraid than ever. Even then, imaginary or not, I knew it was best not to test his patience. From the way he exuded his energy into the room, I got the impression that he would actually get into bed with me and rip my clothes off. The scandalous thing was that I think I would comply with anything and everything he wanted to do with me!
Backed into a corner and perturbed at what he’d be capable of doing if I didn’t comply with his wishes, I pulled the blanket from my head and looked at him. My pulse raced once I found myself face-to-face with the sexual wonder that tilted my world on its already fucked up axis.
I silently gasped.
My eyes expanded at the sight of the eye candy before me. In all the previous times that I saw him, it was only under the shadows of darkness. But right here, right now, basking under the luminescent light of my bedroom, I couldn’t believe the wonder in front of my eyes. If the average male had the sexually charged energy of 100%, then this guy had the sexually charged energy of 10,000%. Every part of this too-good-to-be-true aphrodisiac embodied the perfection of extravagant sex. From his sinfully beautiful face to his sinfully masculine body frame, I was sure as hell he had the sexual stamina to throw any other boy I’ve ever been with out of the water. If there was a standard of male perfection, then this gorgeous creature outranked that standard by miles.
Oh my.
“Do you like what you see?” he asked silkily, reading my mind.
The way he was eyeing my body—or more specifically my cleavage—made me feel I was a meal he had been deprived of for centuries. He definitely liked what he saw. I frowned, resenting that I also liked what I saw. It was a cardinal sin that someone as aphrodisiacal as him should possess such power over me. I resented that he had the ability to make my body come alive in ways I didn’t know was possible. Honestly, how could I be so shallow when my reality was crashing all around me?
Managing to hold on to some modicum of rationale, I grabbed a pillow and covered it over my chest to prevent him from staring at it. I was physically attracted to him, but there was no need to act like a hoochie and allow him to stare at my cleavage.
He laughed at my sudden display of bashfulness.
“Smartass,” he murmured with bitter amusement.
It was only when he said this that it occurred to me that this “imaginary” Demon was becoming more real by the second.
Shit.
I could not help but conclude that I had gone off the deep end. I reflected back to my stay at the psychiatric hospital, recalling how all my lawyers said I was crazy. I did not take them seriously before, but I was now very convinced that I had lost it. I should have known I was fucked in the head when I had absolutely no feelings for my family’s death. I should have known that I was crazy with all those sadistic tendencies floating inside me. I was crazy. I had to be crazy because there was no way there was a Demon standing before me—and the Demon of Lust at that!
This was my punishment for flushing those pills down the toilet. If I took my stay at the psychiatric hospital more seriously, I could have gotten the help I actually needed. Now I was stuck with this strange, albeit sinfully hot, imaginary Demon who was so horny and attractive that he made me want him as well.
“Gracie, you’re not crazy. Stop thinking that you are,” he murmured as if reading my mind.
That observation would’ve been more convincing if it wasn’t coming from the very “Demon” who was giving me my first psychotic episode.
He made a move to touch me as a means to comfort me. However, when I saw him reach out for me, I immediately pulled myself back, preventing him from coming close.
“Don’t touch me and stop calling me, ‘Gracie,’” I ordered, still holding my pillow against my rapidly beating chest. “It sounds like you’re calling me ‘crazy.’” Resentment colored every corner of my voice.
It seemed that my aversion to his touch reminded him of what occurred earlier in the night. Bitterness morphed onto his face.
“You’re right. You are crazy,” he agreed at last, offense reverberating in his statement. His perfectly structured jaw tightened before resentfully adding, “Crazy to attack me the way you did.”
I froze at the last tidbit.
“Huh?”
He shook his head, ignoring my confusion. Scornfully, he forged on. “You know, I had always known you would scream a lot after having me come into your life, but I was under the impression that you would scream for the simple fact that I’m quite possibly the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen.” He frowned, clearly butt-hurt that I had such a negative reaction to him, especially when he had such pride in his appearance. “You act like I’m some hid
eous sleaze who should never see the light of day. Do you even realize what a grave mistake you’ve made?” His visage became foreboding. The cut on his lips glared at me in contempt. “No one hits me and gets away with it, Gracie. Not even you.”
“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” I managed to ask, hugging the pillow tighter against my chest. Nervous beads of sweat started to form on my forehead.
“You busted my lip, punched my jaw with an umbrella, nearly stabbed a hole into my stomach, and kicked me in the very place the rest of the female species under God’s creation adores and worships, you violent little minx.” I quivered at the hardened edge in his voice. “Can you imagine all the things I can do to punish you for even laying a finger on me?
I bit my lower lip while terror coursed through me. It would be a total lie if I were to say that I wasn’t afraid of him. As sexy and charming as the guy was, he was also inarguably intimidating. There was a powerful presence exuding from him, one that intimidated every human fiber in my body. I deduced right then and there that it must be embedded in our very genetic makeup as humans for us to fear Demons because in my particular case, this inherent fear couldn’t have been more alive and active.
Before my fear could manifest itself into pure paranoia, without warning, the “Demon” leaned in. His delicious smelling cologne coated around me as he extended a hand out. He tenderly removed my bangs from my eyes and tucked them behind my ear.
His captivating eyes held mine with an unspoken promise of sensual satisfaction. Lazily, his voice purred, “But I’ll forgive you if you give me a kiss to make it all better.”
“A k-kiss?” I spluttered out like an idiot.
“Just a small peck,” he compromised, his dark eyes glittering with carnality. He appraised my lips like they were the most fascinating things in existence. He leaned in closer, affording me the opportunity to make my amends. “Just a small kiss and I’ll be at your mercy again.”
“J-just a s-small kiss?”