Ego te Provoco

I don’t enjoy having them in my house, wandering around like it was some sort of funhouse. Or perhaps, to them, it really was. I can understand why it might be…The terrifying house that nobody wanted to come near for fear that something awful might happen. Yes, it made sense…Not that I like it at all. I despise this building enough as it is, and having a myriad of pubescent boys running around it as though it was a museum isn’t exactly what I would call my ideal day.

However, extract my house from the equation and replace it with simply the boys and their fear, and you have the best time in the world. From above them I heard their chorus of “death” as though an orchestra was playing the most beautiful of symphonies for my ears alone, and I mentally replayed the sounds as I crept along; always silent, always watching, always ready.

Ready for what, you may ask? An opportunity; the opportunity, to pounce and take the first victim. The first was always the least enjoyable, but you had to pass it to get to the second, which was better. The third was a gateway victim - by this time you were desperate for the last. So much so that just the thought of it could make you weak in the knees and your mouth water.

My bare feet make practically no noise at all as I head for the back set of stairs that would allow me to come up behind the group without them noticing me – the last thing I needed was to be noticed before I could have all of my fun, and there was a lot of fun in this for me.

As the group of rowdy, nervous young men left my grand hall, I walk down the stairs, walking as gracefully as if I was royalty, though nobody could see me. I always walked with a regal air about me. It just seemed like the proper thing to do.

I look around me at my masterpiece of letters and I grin. This place looked so much better now that I had added my own personal touch to it. It was just so much more…homely. More like me. I adored it.

As I wander through the hidden halls that they couldn’t see, I hear their voices drifting toward me. A couple of them were shrill and worried, wondering what the hell was going on in this place, “I knew it was a death trap, we shouldn’t have come!” And these terrified cries were replied with a strung off curses that ended normally with the sound of a punch or “…Was kiddin’, fuck y’all take things too serious.”

The atrocious grammar and language made me cringe. Why, how glad I would be when I ripped their tongues out and didn’t have to listen to it anymore. To think that they had been given the capability of speech and they abused it so…It was disgusting and repulsive and I quite simply wasn’t going to put up with it.

I see them all conversing in the next room, and I lean against the doorframe at an angle that they can’t see me from. It is with a carefree mind that I choose my first victim, the one they were calling Lee. He was of average height, and had boring hair that didn’t quite suit my tastes. He was thin though, and that was appreciated. The last time I’d attempted a tummy tuck had resulted in a bloody mess and a stained carpet. I wasn’t really in the mood to go through that again. Well, at least not quite so soon.

As the group heads for the next room, I notice that Lee hanging toward the back and was looking around at all of my brilliant writing. He stops to look at one of the smaller ones written on a doorknob. A moment later he stands up straight again and shakes his head, only to notice that all of his friends had already moved on.

“Are you lost, little boy?” I ask, my voice sounding as smooth as melted dark chocolate, my words sliding across my tongue as though they were something seductive. I take a few steps forward and he takes a few steps back, almost as though we’re performing a sort of dance. My eyes sparkle with something unknown and a strangled cry escapes his lips.

Almost immediately I am in front of him with my hand over his mouth. “One more noise and I might have to rip out your vocal cords, and I’m not sure that you really want that, do you?” As I speak, I lean forward so that my mouth is next to his throat, and I lick his Adam’s apple.

Behind my hand his lips move and I can hear another muffled scream. My head shoots up immediately and I narrow my eyes.

“So you thought I was joking?” I snarl, a smirk taking over my lips. “Let me tell you something, little boy.”

He was trembling visibly now, and he was trying to back away from me. By now, his friends were long gone, having probably forgotten that he’d been with them in the first place. He was probably realizing this too, and I wrap my free arm around his waist to keep him from moving away any more.

“It’s a little secret that I never tell anybody, so you should feel honoured.” I murmured, pushing his head back with the hand that I had covering his mouth, and used the other one on his back to keep him on his feet. His pale, white neck was exposed to me, and I could see the panic written across his face.

I smirk and lean in, pressing my body roughly against his, earning myself another one of those beautiful, muted cries that I loved and hated equally.

“I never,” I whisper, “Tell lies.”

And I sunk my teeth into his throat.

And the blood was everywhere.