Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
This is all I’m good for. Killing and fighting used to be the only time I felt alive.
At least, until I saw her. I’m not sure why she makes me feel things. I don’t understand it, don’t like it, but I can’t stay away. I want more.
I still smell roses. The floral scent is stronger even than the smell of blood and waste from a freshly dead body.
I pick up the body and stuff it in a trash can, which I then wheel down the street to the empty mansion where I’m squatting. I wheel the whole thing right into the basement, where I’ve stashed some tarps and a kiddie pool in case of this very situation. I’ll wash any traces of blood off the sidewalk and call on my Fraternitas brothers to help me dispose of the body tonight.
But first, I want to check on her.
The lights are on in her bedroom, so I scale a wall, climb a tree, and settle in to watch her go about her bedtime routine. If she looked out the window, she’d notice me sitting in the tree, wearing my skull mask.
But she doesn’t, and I don’t know why it fills me with disappointment. I don’t know why I want her to notice me.
Lately, she’s stopped watching the terrible teen vampire show she likes and has been getting herself off every night. First, she grabs the tattered paperback she keeps next to her vibrator. After rereading her favorite pages, she touches herself until her hips are grinding in the air. She gasps like she can’t get enough air and pushes her shirt up to fondle her own tits. Then her back arches, and she moans, long and low. The sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. She comes until she’s limp in the bed.
The first time I watched her do it, I nearly fell out of the tree.
She reads the same book over and over again. I’m tempted to break in and read it myself. Study it to see if it will help me understand her.
No, I can’t get close to her.
But that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone else touch a hair on her head.
4
Bella
* * *
Monday, we have a day off from orientation, but I head to campus to meet Honey at the main library at noon. I still haven’t told her about what I did to the lacrosse team, but she texted me an update late yesterday: “the UU lacrosse team all got sick and had to forfeit the summer championship! All of campus is talking about it. Did you hear about it?”
“No,” I replied. “How tragic.” I added a smiling demon face emoji to make it clear that I mean that sarcastically, but that’s probably not enough for her to realize I’m behind the poisoning. I should probably tell her face-to-face.
I wonder how she’ll take it. Not everyone can handle having a supervillain for a friend. Honey is a good-hearted person, I can tell. It’s early days, but she’s already an awesome friend. I don’t want to scare her off. But eventually she’ll hear me cackling triumphantly, and I’ll have to tell her that I’m practicing my evil laugh.
Maybe she’ll be cool with it. Maybe she’ll help me practice!
But I have time to think about what I’m going to tell Honey. The bells have just tolled eleven, which means I have time for a little detour.
The poison garden here is famous. I’m familiar with poison plants; I have my own personal greenhouse both at Papa’s townhouse in New Rome and at the house here. But I’ve always wanted to see the University’s collection.
The garden is nestled out of the way, between two academic buildings. The black iron gate is decorated with two dragon-like serpents holding a cup in one hand and a sword in the other, and there’s a pentacle etched onto each serpent’s forehead. I’m learning about these symbols in orientation, and now I see them all over campus.
Unitas University loves to stick to a theme.
I also learned that the poison garden is open to everyone. I sidle up to the gates, and sure enough, they’re closed but not locked. I bet no one even bothers to come here in the summer. The University is very private and doesn’t allow tourist visits. Only faculty, students, and select guests are allowed.
Which means no one is around to admire these plants at their peak. Only me.
The back of my neck prickles with the now familiar sensation of being watched. I’ve been getting that sense more and more when I’m on campus.
But when I whirl around, no one’s there. Huh.
Maybe my supervillain senses are being tripped because more students are coming back to campus. Some of them will be Vesuvios, my family’s sworn enemies. I have plans for them, evil plans that go against Unitas University’s founding principles.