Death Blooms

by Yolanda Olson

  Death Blooms

  Yolanda Olson

  Contents

  Introduction

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  I. The Acquisition

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  II. Folie d'un

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  III. All Good Things

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  IV. The Grand Design

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Yolanda Olson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  My funny ladies that kept telling me that maybe less wasn’t more this time. Lis, Linda, and Dawn—I’m pretty sure you guys are crazier than me sometimes!

  Sarah Paige of Opium House. When I saw this cover, I knew immediately that you had captured my vision. This gives the story life in a dark and beautiful way. I appreciate your stunning work!

  Dez of Pretty in Ink Creations for editing this. Always coming through in the clutch and saving the day. Thank you for making this shiny and neat.

  Dani of Raven Designs for formatting this to twisted perfection; you the real MVP.

  To the Twisted Rabbits. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard watching you guys beta read a story of mine before. You guys are hilarious and made this adventure super fun!

  Dedication

  For Bridgett, Lis, and Dawn.

  #BC

  Prologue

  It won't stop crying and I don't understand why.

  I'm very good to it; I'm kind, soft spoken, and gentle with my touch, yet it whimpers and whines with blood red, tear stained eyes.

  I think it wants to leave, but I've given it a much better life than it had before in such a small amount of time, that I think it will start to trust me soon.

  I hope so, anyway.

  I know that trust is something earned and not readily an easy reward. I know that all things take time but I want nothing more than for it to smile when it sees me. I want the tears—the terror and fear that overcomes it when I approach to be a distant memory.

  Soon enough.

  It's almost ready to join the others, but not until it stops reacting so unreasonably when it sees me. I'll leave it to wallow in it's own self-doubt and sorrows before I let it go with the others.

  They're all much stronger and confident once they leave me and they always thank me.

  Always.

  Sometimes I think that maybe, just maybe, it doesn't want to leave me. I think that it reacts this way because of how kind I am with it.

  I groom it, feed it, give it a warm bed to sleep in and even fresh sheets every night.

  I think it may have grown attached to me as they often tend to do and the problem is that I may have grown attached too.

  There's just the two of us left.

  The others have met their goals and have been molded into the perfect little possessions their owners paid me to make them into.

  The reason this one is different, the reason I feel so much fondness for it, is because I chose it. I'm receiving no compensation for the molding of it—monetary or otherwise.

  I may keep it.

  I may kill it.

  I may kill myself.

  I may kill us both.

  I haven't decided yet and that's the most exciting feeling of all.

  Part One

  The Acquisition

  Chapter One

  I’ve been working all night and I’m so goddamn tired, but I know that time is of the essence when attempting to create the perfect pets. I’m almost done, having already removed most of the useless parts and viscera. Since I’m self-trained in this craft, I have no care for the rules of do no harm especially not with the amount of money I get paid for these things.

  I take my work seriously and I’m very passionate about producing the perfect product as requested by each suitor.

  I do pretty good for myself considering that I work alone and my prices start at ten-thousand dollars depending on what kind of product is required.

  Simple little things like appearance changes or body molding into some form of small animal is the easiest and quickest thing I can produce and that’s usually what gets ordered more often than not.

  I use the back of my hand to wipe away the sweat from my forehead, then take a step back. I’m behind on my orders because I don’t need any money right now, so this is really more for fun and to keep my skills honed than anything else.

  I smile and run a hand gently down the side of its face. It isn’t afraid of me anymore because it has accepted its fate and I appreciate when they’re like this. It makes the work easier for me and the process more bearable for them.

  I don’t like to hurt them, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me a hard-on from time to time.

  The first cut is always sweet like nectar and the last stitch is the release of euphoria. It can be likened to a sexual experience if one holds that kind of perversion, but I don’t. To me, this is a job and nothing more, though sometimes I do have to fight the urge to touch my creations in ways I shouldn’t.

  I may not be completely done for the evening, but I’m satisfied with what I’ve accomplished so far and decide to call it a night.

  “I’ll finish you tomorrow,” I promise it, kissing the forehead softly.

  It manages a small smile, and nods as best as it can. I appreciate them more when they’re like this and that’s something they come to find out sooner rather than later.

  I never mistreat the pets because that’s not what I’m paid to do. I recreate them from the base design I’m given and make them into something of splendor and worthy of praise by their new owners.

  I smile kindly at it and pull the sheet up to its neck so that it will be as comfortable as possible when I’m gone before I head for the door.

  I live by the motto usually of not shitting where I eat, but because of the amount of money that’s been rolling in, I’ve been able to move into a much bigger place which allows me to have a workroom on the top floor of the building.

  I always did like the way loft apartments looked and I saved enough money to be able to buy the entire building so I don’t have to worry about nosy neighbors poking about in my business.

  Figuratively and literally.

  I sigh heavily as I make my way toward the lift and lean back against the cool metal, waiting for it to stop on the bottom floor. That’s what I use as my general living space, while the second floor is where I sleep and conduct my business.

  Just as I reach my fridge and pull out a cool pitcher of water, the obnoxious sounds of open handed, rapid knocking greets my ears and I laugh. I put the
pitcher on the counter and walk over to the door, pulling it open and grinning down at Aiden James, who looks up at me with the usual mischief dancing in her narrow, chocolate-brown eyes. I like her so much because she’s different. She’s a little sprite of a person and her silver hair makes her look like a fairy tale creature of sorts.

  “You’re not ready,” she points out in confusion.

  “For?” I ask, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the door.

  “You promised to take me to The Lounge tonight,” she replies, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Is that why you’re dressed up like that?” I inquire, nodding at her. I let out a low whistle and she laughs, pushing her way past me.

  Aiden’s wearing a tight, scarlet tube top, leather pants, and her famous stripper heels—the kind that have the huge wedge in the front and the point of death in the back. They hike her up about another four inches, but she’s so tiny that I don’t think it really makes much of a difference. The way her clothes cling to her body show off her figure and even though she’s not supermodel thin, she’s so goddamn beautiful that no one seems to care.

  That and the fact that she can beat the ever living shit out of anyone that tries to do her harm or crosses her in anyway seem to make the world work out in her favor.

  “Don’t you look good enough to eat,” I say as she sways her hips, making a show of her entering my place as she tends to do when she’s feeling pretty.

  “Well, the kitchen is always open for you, Gray,” she replies, glancing at me over her shoulder and wiggling her eyebrows. I groan as I laugh in embarrassment. Aiden’s my best friend and we tend to banter back and forth like this a lot. She always manages to say something so damn salacious that she comes out the winner while I turn eighteen shades of crimson.

  “Anyway,” I say, desperate to change the subject, “do you wanna just hang out here? I’ve been working all day and only stopped a little while ago. I’m beat.”

  “I know,” she replies, hopping up onto the counter and swinging her legs.

  “How?” I ask her curiously.

  “You’re still wearing your gloves, Einstein,” she says, reaching for my pack of smokes on the counter and lighting one. I immediately scrunch my face and mimic a high-pitched tone, to which she laughs and tosses my lighter at me.

  “Get cleaned up and let’s get out of here. I’m sure you can use a night out after what you’ve been up to,” she says, crossing her legs at the ankles and placing the cigarette in between her lips. She’s right and she knows it, and the way she’s eyeing me tells me that I agree with her.

  “Yeah, just give me a few,” I finally agree, as I turn and walk out of the kitchen area.

  I decide to take the stairs this time because I know how impatient she can get. I don’t spend more than twenty or so minutes in the shower scrubbing away any excess fluids that aren’t mine and smile slightly when I notice that the drain is a slight crimson color. I thought I had bled the piece properly, but sometimes I get so into what I’m doing that I don’t really notice little things like that.

  Once I’m dry and my hair is neatly combed, I walk quickly to my bedroom and drop my towel, pulling on my boxers, then my fitted black v-neck and a loose pair of dark, blue denim jeans. I head into my closet and sit on the floor as I pull on some socks and my boots, then head back down to where I assume Aiden is waiting rather impatiently for me.

  “Well, damn, Gray. You sure do know how to clean up nicely,” she says, from her new spot on the floor. Her head is tilted in my direction and as I slide my smokes into my back pocket, she gets to her feet and loops an arm through mine.

  “Let’s go get fucked up!”

  Chapter Two

  “Penn’s here,” she informs me with a mischievous grin on her face. The excitement in her tone fucks with me almost immediately.

  I can feel the slight tremor that quakes through my body each time I hear that name and do my best to not look like I just won the lottery, because in all honesty, I’m not entirely sure that Penn even knows I exist.

  Not yet, anyway.

  “So?” I reply as nonchalantly as I can with a shrug. “That’s not why I came out tonight.”

  “Sure it isn’t,” Aiden replies with a sly grin.

  I chuckle nervously as I reach into my pocket for my lighter. A cigarette will help calm my nerves right now and maybe I can convince Aiden to stop fraying them by letting me buy her a drink.

  “Beer or shot?” I ask her after I’ve lit my cigarette. I grin as her eyes light up, reflecting the bright ashen fire at the end of my smoke. Aiden’s kind of a lightweight when it comes to hard liquor, which is why I gave her the option. If she passes out on the floor, I won’t have to be reminded every two minutes that Penn is here and I can look like the conquering hero by carrying her out to safety.

  It’s a way to kill two birds with one stone, really.

  “Beer,” she replies, the grin still on her face.

  “Bitch,” I grumble as I turn and lead the way toward the bar. Aiden giggles as she follows close behind, gripping me by the sides of my waist so she doesn’t get lost in the push of the ever revolving crowd in this place. I have half a mind to shake her loose and watch her struggle to get back to me, but since she’s the only friend I have in this place, I decide to play nice.

  A lot of people know me here by name and they’ve seen my face plenty of times. To me, they’re acquaintances, whereas Aiden is an actual, true friend.

  I reach back and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her around me and letting her have the only empty stool at the bar.

  “Get whatever you want—I’ll pay tonight,” I say to her as I lean on the bar and narrow my eyes at the row of bottles against the wall. I don’t know what I feel like, if anything at all, but I’m sure that Aiden will manage to run through the money I brought tonight. It doesn’t bother me, though. She’s a good kid and being in her company always pulls me out of any bullshit my mind wants to toss at me in my quiet moments.

  “Aiden!”

  I turn my attention away from the bottles and glance over at the voice that’s greeting my drinking buddy for the evening and just as quickly turn my eyes away again.

  “Hey, Penn! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight!” she says, reaching over and giving her friend a quick hug.

  Sure you didn’t, I think with a sour taste in my mouth. That’s probably the exact reason she insisted we come to this place tonight; because she knew exactly who would inhabit its walls.

  “What you are drinking tonight, my fine little lady friend?” Penn asks when they pull apart. I roll my eyes and try not to sigh. So much for having a fun night out with Aiden—it seems she’s already being kidnapped away from me by the one person that still hasn’t noticed me even though I’m only a mere few feet away.

  I slide out of the spot between her stool and the drunken bastard on the other side of me, and head for the door. I’m not going to try and pretend to be friendly and I won’t try to regain her attention, either. It’s obvious who she’d rather spend her time with, and I can’t fault her for it because I would pick Penn over me too if given the opportunity.

  Once I’m outside, I place a cigarette between my lips, light it, and inhale deeply. I look up and down both sides of the street, unsure of which direction I want to take home today. I always like to try a path I’ve never traveled before—it’s pretty calming and helps with the turmoil that’s constantly raging inside of me.

  “You’re such a goddamn drama queen sometimes,” Aiden’s voice greets me fondly.

  I turn around, my cigarette hanging from my lips, and almost choke on the smoke. She brought Penn with her and she seems good and determined to make us speak to each other.

  “Anyway,” she continues with a friendly eye roll as she turns her attention back toward Penn, “this is my very best friend, Gray Talbot. Gray, this is my very big pain in the ass, Penn Harris.”

  I cast a quick glance in his direction, nod to a
cknowledge his presence, and then turn my eyes back toward the furthest stretch of pavement from where he’s standing. Being this close to him makes me fucking nervous—like I’ll make an ass out of myself and say something completely stupid by just trying to have a conversation and I’d rather not.

  “Okay, well. I’m gonna head home,” I say to them, eyes still down the street.

  “Hey,” Aiden says sharply, giving my arm a tug. “We just got here! You can’t leave!”

  I shrug as I flick the ashes from the end of my cigarette and clear my throat.

  “Got another one of those?”

  I grunt as I pull the pack out of my back pocket and hold it out. Penn reaches into my half-smoked pack and fishes out a cigarette, then asks for a lighter. I’m becoming agitated, but I give him one anyway. Nothing like scaring off the guy you’re jonesing for to really hammer home that nothing ever goes the way it should.

  “Thanks,” he says after he inhales deeply. “Fuck. Menthol. That’s gonna open up my lungs.”

  I turn and glance at him again; an eyebrow raised as he and Aiden share a laugh. I can’t tell if they’re laughing at me, my choice of cigarette flavor, or just laughing for the sake of filling dead air. But the smile on Aiden’s face is one that I’m used to. It’s the same one she gives me once I’ve come down from some kind of epic meltdown, which tells me that at the very least, she’s not laughing at me. My eyes wander over to Penn, who’s watching me with curiosity and a grin curving the edge of his full lips. His larger than life, blue eyes are trying to lock onto mine, but I don’t look at him long enough to allow it.