Owen watched from across the bar as she sauntered over to the man. His eyes were glued to her, watching as she managed to rip her dress even more. “Classic.” He mumbled, starting to close the space between them. He stopped at a round table that was a few feet from them, and grabbed an unattended drink. He sipped on it slowly, still watching them. He marveled at the fact that every person that was in the bar had no idea what was happening, or what was about to happen.
He saw Rye wink at him, and he gave her a sly grin. That’s my girl, he thought, watching as she led the unsuspecting man down a hallway. Owen followed behind, keeping himself at a distance that he wouldn’t be noticed. He leaned against the wall, pulling his phone out of his pocket pretending to be occupied. No body else was traveling the hall, it was just the three of them. He looked up and watched as Rye began her little show. The man leaned into her, a little to close for his comfort, but soon he noticed things were changing. From an outsiders perspective, Rye looked completely normal, the man, however, was beginning to panic. His screams grew louder, and that’s when Owen saw the knife.
Quickly he started towards them, but he didn’t get there fast enough. The man had taken the knife and pierced Rye’s skin. This made his own blood begin to boil. Adrenalin started coursing through his veins, before the man was able to pull the fire alarm Owen had him slammed against the wall. “Wrong move, bub.” He hissed through clenched teeth. The man furrowed his brows, still yelling, and tried to wrap his hands around Owen’s neck.
Owen clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Think again.” Before the man could make another move, Owen had his arm twisted behind his back, forcing him out the back exit. He turned his head, giving Rye a hurry up glance, and disappeared into an ally way. Not a soul was out back as he shoved the man to the ground. He slowly let his blade slide out, the steel slicing through his skin with a loud rip. It didn’t hurt anymore, just sent a discomforting feeling through his body.
He pressed the blade into the mans back, smiling as the man began to scream in pain. When he heard the door slam, and saw Rye watching him, he bent over to grab the man’s shoulder. With his blade still pressed firmly into the mans back, Owen lifted him slowly. The screams intensified, and Owen let out a strangled laugh. He then jerked the man back, the blade going completely through his body. Blood shot out of the man’s mouth, staining the brick wall in front of him. Tears were pouring out of his eyes, gasping and screaming and bleeding Owen lifted the blade, cutting right along his spinal cord.
When the screaming had stopped, the body now limp against his, Owen placed his foot on the man’s back, giving him a quick kick. Blood pooled around his body as Owen retracted his blade. He smeared the blood that was running down his own hands on his shirt, and walked over to Rye. He wrapped his bloodied arm around her waste, pulling her down the ally. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins, his body humming with excitement. This was the thrill he lived off of, and knowing he had a partner in crime made it all that much sweeter.
Rye quickly pulled back as Owen approached, knowing better than to take anything from his fun. Quickly moving after him with a smile upon her face, she was certain to make sure that they weren’t being followed and quickly moved a cement block in front of the outward-opening door just in case. Rye marveled at the way the blades extended from his arms, eyes moving between the blade and his face, not wanting to miss any part of the act. Rye moved closer to the man, keeping her eyes locked on his, taking in every moment of his fear and agony before moving to watch the contrasting expression of the man in control.
At the sudden movement, Rye felt her brows raise upward and her teeth bit down on her lower lip, barely able to contain herself at the sight. Something darkened behind her eyes and Rye felt herself feeling rather glad that her ability had managed to wear off of the man. How appropriate that his final trauma be one based in reality. Once the limp mass had been allowed to fall with finality to the sidewalk, she looked upon Owen with unrestrained admiration.
She allowed him to wrap his arm around her and quickly took his hand, kissing his fingers before licking the blood from her own lips. She could feel the warm blood soaking through her own clothes before realizing that some of it was her own, flowing from her shoulder. Her eyes furrowed in confusion as if forgetting that she could be harm, as if forgetting what pain felt like. Ignoring it, she looked back to him and grinned. ❝You look so lovely coated in red.❞
