Chapter 152

Adrian Kael

"But feeling my own pain wasn't enough anymore. I wanted to understand the pain of others. So I started with animals. Cats, dogs, birds… I cut, suffocated, and broke them. I needed to see life leaving; I needed to hear the last sound that came out of them. I didn't feel pity. Only curiosity. What would it be like to see a soul leave a body?"

"Adrian…" His voice comes out low, almost inaudible, but I don't stop.

"And you know what I discovered? It’s addictive. Much more addictive than any drug. The blood, the despair, the silence after death. It fed me. And to this day, it feeds me."

Magnus’s thigh tenses beneath my head, but I keep talking, mercilessly.

"My mother… She didn't last long. Years after that attempt to kill me, I woke up one morning and found her in my room. She had hanged herself. She was dangling from the ceiling, the rope taut, eyes open, and her mouth twisted. She chose to die in the room of the son she hated. Maybe as a final insult. Maybe to haunt me. But I didn't cry. I just stood there looking, and you know what I did? I smiled."

I feel his hand stop for an instant… Then return, hesitant.

"Because at that moment, I realized that her death was my birth. The Adrian you see today, Magnus, was born when she decided to end her own life. From that day on, I knew: I have no limits. I feel no guilt, I feel no pity, I feel nothing. I only want to possess, to destroy, to get drunk on the fear of others."

Silence. Magnus’s fingers continue caressing my hair, slower now, as if he wants to believe this gesture can still calm me, or perhaps himself.

I give a weak, almost breathless laugh.

"I always thought that way, until the day I finally found you, love," I say softly, my voice coming out hoarse and sincere. "I never felt anything. My heart never raced for anyone. But when I saw you in that diner, it was as if the world stopped. My breath vanished. I could only look at you."

I close my eyes, remembering.

"I fell hopelessly in love in that instant. You were the first person who made me want something... someone. I wanted to understand what it was to have, what it was to feel." A short smile escapes. "I was planning to approach you, but then I found out you had been arrested. I was out of my mind. That’s when I started researching everything about your life."

Magnus remains silent and attentive, his fingers still playing between my strands.

"I discovered you worked for the American Mafia, that you were their enforcer... and that made me even more fascinated." I look up, locking onto his gaze. "Because finally, I found someone who wouldn't judge me for killing. You kill too. You feel the same taste for blood, for power, for domination."

I smile with a mix of melancholy and madness.

"When I heard you slept with those whores and that bastard, I killed them all. Slowly. I made sure to tear the life out of them with my own hands." I feel Magnus’s breathing grow heavy. "No one could touch you. No one."

My voice softens.

"I never cared about sex or kisses. They were just empty acts, meaningless. But with you..." I sigh, touching his face with my fingers. "With you, I want everything. I want to kiss you until the air runs out. I want to love you all night long. I want to wake up with you in my arms."

The silence between us is dense, pulsing.

"I love you so much, Magnus, that I killed to be here." I stare at him without looking away. "I killed a congressman’s son. My father tried to stop me, but I threatened him. I told him that if he didn't let me be arrested, I would keep killing. And he gave in."

I lift my head from his thigh and rise a bit to face him.

"I know I’m not normal," I say with a light, almost innocent smile that doesn't match my words. "But my love for you is real, Magnus. Sincerely. I love you too much. And I don't care if it sounds mushy, cliché, or pathetic—I'm going to tell you that every day."

My hand moves up to his face, caressing his cheek.

"I don't expect an 'I love you' from you." I smile lopsidedly. "Just the fact that you like me, return my affection, let me touch you, take care of you... that is enough."

I let my fingers slide down to his neck, feeling his heat.

"You are my first man," my voice escapes soft, loaded with devotion. "And I am yours, forever."

I lie back down, resting my cheek on his thigh, feeling the warmth of his skin against my face.

"And since we’re getting to know each other… I’m not twenty-two; I’m twenty-four," I say with a small smile. "My favorite colors are red and black. Red, because of the blood. Black, because of the darkness I feel inside me. My favorite foods are lasagna and pizza. I like to paint, too… Now you know everything about me, my love."

He lets out a heavy sigh, his fingers returning to stroke my hair.

"I really don't even know what to say after hearing all that," his voice comes out low. "I’m just sorry for what your mother did to you. She should have loved you, not hurt you just because you were quiet."

I give a small, emotionless smile.

"It doesn't bother me that much, love. If she hadn't killed herself, I would have done it myself," I answer calmly, as if speaking of something trivial.

He shakes his head, a sigh escaping him.

"You really need therapy."

I give a light, sincere laugh.

"I've already tried, but it didn't help that much." I look up at him. "You’re the only one who can affect me, Magnus. The only one who can wound me, who can make me feel sick."

"When you were hitting me, did you feel bad?" he asks, staring at me seriously.

"Of course I did," I respond without hesitation, my voice steady and sincere. "Hurting you hurt me too, Magnus. I never liked it, love. Never." I let out a heavy sigh. "It hurt even more when you doubted what I felt."

He remains quiet for a while, just observing me. I stay silent for a moment, then I stand up, take the tray, and place it on the floor beside the bed.