Arson's Captive Read online

  But who really knows what people hide behind the perfect façade they call life?

  “You will,” I say and go back to the table, smirking at the drill lying there.

  I turn it on, and the trrrr sound fills the space, alerting the man behind me, because he asks, this time with much more power than before in his voice, “What are you going to do with it?”

  Ignoring his question, I return to him and without hesitation drill right into his dick; his terrified and agonized screams shake the basement, giving complete numbness to my mind.

  All the voices in my head shut up.

  Ah, what a beautiful thing, and that’s worth killing anyone in this world.

  His dick lies shredded in his pants, and at some point he stops breathing, probably from the shock. It might even result in a heart attack.

  He stills with his mouth and eyes wide open, while blood continues to drip from his body.

  But a heart attack isn’t a satisfying amusement to me.

  Snatching out a lighter from the back pocket of my pants, I flip it on and spark it, momentarily in awe of the beauty it represents. Orange and blue flames entwined in a pair so strong, one doesn’t exist without the other.

  Almost like eternal love.

  Except love doesn’t exist in this world; we humans are too selfish for that, no matter what anyone claims.

  Blowing a kiss to the fire, I drop the lighter next to his feet, and it instantly ignites, circling around him and sliding up his legs, consuming the fabric and flesh.

  Snapping my fingers, I address the crowd watching the scene. “Usually, victims last longer even after the drill, but this peace of shit”—I point at the man who’s half-burned but still manages to make weak sounds that remind me of pleading—“has a weak a heart. Want better entertainment… find a healthy victim,” I say and then wave my hand before pressing the remote. “Class dismissed.” The black blinds slowly cover the window, and I shift my focus to the fire that slowly erupts around the body. The orange and blue licks of flame bring me much-needed relief.

  For a moment in time, I’m mesmerized by its purity and beauty that knows no boundaries, power and authority that knows no mercy, and fear that has no explanation.

  Indeed, there is a reason fire became my best friend.

  The ringing in my pocket brings me back from my nirvana, and I growl in annoyance, disliking anyone interrupting my torture time.

  Who the fuck is brave enough to do that anyway?

  Taking it out, I frown at the name flashing on the screen and answer on the second ring, “What happened?” If it was anyone else, I’d have never even bothered picking it up, let alone wonder what the problem is.

  Silence greets me, stretching for too long—which is so uncharacteristic for the man—but finally Lachlan speaks up. “Arson, you need to come now.” He hangs up on me without any other explanation, not that he needs one.

  I don’t owe anyone anything in this world.

  But if Lachlan Scott calls me, I’ll do anything for him.

  After all, he is the one who taught me that serial killers don’t need to live as outcasts. We just need to learn to channel our desires in a way that no one will know.

  We are dangerous creatures lurking in the night, seeking flesh and pain from those who have the misfortune of meeting us.

  And among them all, I’m the worst kind, because I don’t have a conscience or a set pattern.

  I’m just driven by the constant desire to kill.

  Ah, isn’t it a beautiful thing?

  Chapter Two

  “Sometimes, no matter how much you beg, atonement doesn’t come.”

  Callista

  Somewhere in the world….

  Present

  Callista

  My feet slap against the ground as I run through the forest, breathing in the smells surrounding me yet not feeling a thing as sweat coats my skin and different voices echo in my ears.

  Each one of them more terrifying than the other, creating a swirling sensation of panic around my heart. It makes me fist my dress harder and lift it up, picking up my pace.

  Maybe if I run fast enough, I can outrun the nightmare slowly creeping up on me like spider’s silk, ready to wrap their prey in it and eat it alive.

  A raspy breath pushes past my lips when I slip and fall on my knees, hitting them hard on the rocks beneath me, and silent sobs shake my entire system.

  But then I hear dogs barking in the distance and summon all my self-control. I squeeze my eyes shut hard before standing up and rushing in a different direction, closer to the border of Pastor’s land, even though my heart knows it’s a useless attempt.

  There is no escape from this “heaven on earth,” as everyone calls it, which has become nothing but an endless hell for me.

  “God, please,” I chant, allowing myself for the first time in ages to let stupid hope bloom inside my chest, and pray for divine intervention that would take me away from here, or remove me from this hunt.

  But deep down, even my bruised heart knows that monsters who feed on my flesh exist everywhere in this world, and no amount of praying will ever help me.

  For they come from a hell that forever stains them in such a way that they bring nothing but chaos and terror with them.

  The barking gets closer, and I dart under the branches of the heavy oak tree whose dangling leaves hide me. I press myself behind it, afraid to even breathe.

  Through the branches, I see men run into the field with their flashlights scanning the open areas, looking for their prey as they watch their dogs sniff the air.

  “Where the fuck is she?” Marcello roars, fisting his hand holding the dog leash and tugging on it so harshly the animal whimpers. “Track her better, fucker.” Then he addresses his men, swirling his finger in the air. “Scout the place and find her. She can’t get far, and Tom’s already waiting for her on the south border.” He spits on the ground. “The stupid bitch thinks she is so smart and too good for the likes of me.”

  My heart sinks at this knowledge while the sense of betrayal rushes through my system to combine with the anger bottled up inside me. I barely restrain myself from screaming in frustration at Tom’s actions.

  The man whose wife I helped safely deliver a baby last month is ready to feed me to the wolves.

  “Marcello, is it necessary? It’s not like she can escape,” Adam asks, lighting up his cigarette and puffing smoke in the air. My brows furrow as I shift a little and wince when leaves crunch under me.

  The sound is barely audible, but it’s enough for the dogs to take notice as one of them freezes, lifting his ear a little.

  “Why the fuck do you care, Adam?” Despite the situation and him appearing to be in my favor, I wonder about it too. The man has been nothing but a mean asshole around here, so why all of a sudden does he care so much about me?

  He follows all the orders religiously, just like everyone else.

  Adam shrugs. “All this chasing around is useless and wastes our time. Besides, do you really think Pastor will appreciate you behaving like this with her?”

  “I don’t give a fuck. He promised her to me,” Marcello seethes, and I close my eyes, resting my forehead against the tree, hating how his words hit me with an impact so strong I’m surprised I don’t fall.

  Promised her to me.

  As if I’m nothing but a toy he can order around as he wishes.

  Because ultimately that’s one purpose he can’t wait for me to fulfill—become part of the Smith clan so he will have his alliance.

  But then, what else did I expect from a man who calls himself my father, even though he treats me like I’m his slave?

  “And you will get her. But running around in a field and forcing her to get married tonight is not going to fly with Pastor once he hears about it. You know she is his princess.” There is a weird note lacing Adam’s tone, and then he exhales more smoke. “Act like a good guy in this situation and her disobedience will be no one’s problem but her own.
” He waits a bit, a sadistic smile lifting his mouth and adding a sparkle to his eyes. “Then we’ll all enjoy her punishment.”

  A murmur rushes among the men while they no doubt imagine Marcello dragging me to the main worshiping area in town after the wedding vows and then chaining me to the wall. Then he’ll rape me over and over again to fuck my stubbornness out of me.

  At least, that’s what he keeps promising me whenever we are alone, because he’s too much of a coward to mention it in front of Pastor.

  He might be a monster who doesn’t mind offering my hand in marriage without my permission, but no one is allowed to hit me.

  Even his beloved future son-in-law who promised to expand his empire.

  I shake my head from the gloomy thoughts and fist my hand, ordering myself to forget about all those memories and only focus on now.

  If I allow my nightmares to play in my head like a colorful movie, I will drown in them.

  Marcello rubs his chin, pondering Adam’s words for a while before he nods. “I think you’re right. Let the bitch learn a bit of obedience. It’ll be easier to control her once she’s mine.” He sends them a grin before tugging on his dog’s leash. “She will soon learn that the fairytale she has lived in is over.” They slowly head in the direction of the town while his words ring in my ears, arousing nothing but fury from within me.

  Fairytale?

  My life has been nothing but endless misery from the day I was born.

  Bitter laughter escapes me as tears slide down my cheeks and I do nothing to wipe them away.

  But the most devastating truth of all?

  Adam is right.

  I have nowhere to go but back to the town that demands my soul in exchange for a life full of sorrow.

  And I can refuse all I want, but the outcome will be the same.

  There is no escape from here but death, and oddly enough, at this moment, death has more appeal to me than marrying the monster.

  Chapter Three

  “Beauty has no meaning for me.

  For appearances are always deceiving, and people’s true nature comes out in the most despicable of times.”

  Arson

  Arson

  Whistling loudly, I walk nonchalantly to the edge of the town, dragging an open gunpowder bag.

  Two men notice me and startle. “What the he—” I fire at them with my silenced gun, and they fall to the ground with a loud thud.

  I shake my head.

  This quick death is an embarrassment for me, but oh well, no time to play. Too bad I can’t set fire to their bodies as well so they would burn to the ground and their ashes would forever stay in the fucked-up prison they so carefully guarded.

  Finally, the powder runs out. I kick the bag to the side and take out matches as Psychopath’s voice annoys me through the earpiece. “For fuck’s sake, light it!” If he were here, I’d flip him off. What a fucking jealous prick.

  Yeah, despite our close association with Lachlan, we aren’t really friends.

  We are too much alike to stand each other’s company, and besides… two monsters rarely share a friendship.

  Why would we if there are so many opportunities for the hunt around us?

  Sighing heavily, I’m about to do what he said when I notice a woman standing in front of me, her mouth hanging open as her eyes roam around, and she whispers, “No intruders.” She is probably going to scream and call for help, and this is not part of our plan.

  Jaxon will handle the security guys while I need to create panic, but it has to be unexpected. In this play, each one of us has a specific role, and we cannot allow the audience to leave before the grand finale.

  Not that I’m much of a team player, but when Lachlan Scott summons his protégés, there isn’t one of us who would say no.

  If he wants a female so badly he is ready to burn this fucking town, so be it.

  Even if the plan from the very beginning sounded absolutely boring to me—well, besides the fire I could inflict.

  That’s the only entertaining part of this fucking job, and I don’t need a little complaining female to ruin my plans.

  What is she doing here anyway? I thought in fucked-up places like this most women spent all their time kneeling inside the church, worshiping the fucking pastor who probably deems himself God with absolute power over them.

  Before she can spin around, I grab her by the nape. She struggles in my arms as I wrap my hands tightly around her neck, choking her while I press on her artery with enough force for her to faint but not die.

  As she gulps for breath but can’t inhale, I study her unmistakable beauty. Lake-green eyes that hold so much fear and pain, a perfect combination, blonde locks that fly around with the wind, and pale skin that shows every vein.

  Her full mouth with pink lips, which call out to draw blood from them, are another form of art though, making her almost a living porcelain doll.

  What a magnificent creature, like a wounded bird that can never find a nest.

  Something unfamiliar slams into me with full force, gluing my gaze on the woman in my arms who calls out to the monster living inside me.

  It’s like an angel from heaven dropped into hell where a demon craving only blood found her. I barely restrain myself from flicking a knife and finding out if she has blood like all mortals.

  A humorless chuckle escapes me for the stupidity of such thoughts, because I know better than anyone how truly vicious creatures hide behind the façade of angels, luring their victims to their end, feeling no remorse about it.

  Finally, she slumps in my arms, and I place her on the ground outside the fence boards.

  I chuckle, looking at the silent town with around twenty houses, and one huge-ass church that sits in the center of it.

  The match flares and I drop it to the ground, letting the fire rapidly spread, burning the powder like it’s a chain, moving and moving where I spread it, and surrounding the town in flames. It won’t harm anyone but will be enough so they start running around, and it’ll be easy to call the feds.

  As long as it keeps burning, and I made sure of that.

  For a moment, I’m mesmerized by the orange flames and the power they represent. A thrill penetrates my bones, and I inhale deeply, basking in the smell of burned ground.

  It’s quickly gone though, and the voices come back.

  Screams, and screams, and screams.

  And just like that, my five-second reprieve is over, and I have to come back to reality.

  Until the next time.

  Clicking the Call button on my phone, I inform Jaxon, “I’m done. Your turn.” I hang up, not waiting for a reply, as it’s time for me to go.

  Turning around, I’m ready to march away when invisible chains stop me, almost trapping my feet to the ground, not letting me leave.

  My eyes land again on the beauty still lying on the ground, and I tip my head to the side, drinking her in, and imagine what it would be like to show her different kinds of fires.

  Would it inspire more fear on her doll-like face? As she really shines then.

  Victims are never in short supply, but angels?

  We don’t get them often in our hell, and shouldn’t I appreciate the gift the devil has granted me?

  Even if with my decision I’ll forever ruin her life.

  It’s inevitable, after all.

  Everything I touch becomes rotten at some point.

  But then moonlight streaming from above us brightens up her face, showcasing her mesmerizing beauty one more time, and another thought, darker than the previous ones yet still so tempting, slashes through me, curving my mouth in a smile.

  A perfect weapon.

  Who would have thought?

  Without dwelling on it too much, I kneel down and scoop her up in my arms, propping her more firmly on my chest, and disappear into the night with a trophy.

  No one said I couldn’t leave with a little souvenir from this trip.

  Chapter Four

  “If I ever get
the chance to speak to normal people again, I’ll tell them to never hope.

  Because hope is useless for the angels like me trapped in hell where the devil rules you.”

  Callista

  Callista, 6 years old

  Grabbing a colorful book, I quickly tiptoe toward the bed and jump under the covers, giggling a little when the flashlight shines all around me.

  Steadying it next to me, I sit up straight and flip the book open, excitement building inside me. I gasp at the beautiful drawings of the adventures of a girl with the shiniest red hair.

  Touching my head with a sad smile, because my golden locks remind me nothing of the brave girl who travelled to another continent, I wrap my hands tightly around the light and start to read another chapter, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

  So Daddy won’t know I’m not asleep.

  He hates it when someone doesn’t listen to his orders, especially me, because I remind him so much of Mommy and her “fucking temperament.”

  I have no clue what that means; he refuses to explain it or why his face always twists in a weird grimace when he says it, but Mommy is the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world.

  When Daddy doesn’t put angry bruises on her face, that is.

  Shaking my head, I glue my eyes back to the book while blocking away the shouts coming from the living room. Fisting the covers around me tighter, even though my body trembles with fear, I still keep the smile intact as I follow the girl’s adventures.

  “Someday, I’ll travel just like you,” I whisper, flipping to another page where the little girl goes to visit China. “And here too.” I wipe away the tear on my cheek, adding, “I’ll take Mommy with me too, so he won’t hurt her.” I hear glass breaking somewhere, and the air stops in my lungs.

  Then another set of shouts erupt, and this time I can’t ignore them, no matter how much I try.

  “Stop, Alec. Stop!” Mommy begs, but Daddy only laughs, not the kind of laugh he gives me when we play outside or build castles in the sand.