POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL. I grinned down at my disorientated prey who struggled against the leather bounds, whimpering like a wounded bird.

I licked my lips, totally ready.

Gmie trembled, knocking her back against the wheel. "Help me, guys. Help me." Her piercing cries recoiled off the tiles, feeding the dangerous bloodlust shifting through me.

It called to me like a siren, ordering me to get blood and flesh and spread it all over my skin like lotion. I shivered, biting my lip.

She kept calling for help, which made me laugh, head swinging back and forth as I took the hunting knife from my pocket. "Help. Oh, help. Oh, help me," I mocked in a whiny tone. "You're too funny, Gmie."

"Fuck you," she said, looking at the ceiling, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"You really believe someone's gonna come save you," I said, pointing to the cameras. "Everyone's watching, girlie, and no one likes you. That's what happens when you treat people like shit. Your only true ally has one eye and a missing finger."

Scrunching her face up, she lowered her eyes to slits, lips thinning. "I have more allies than that," she hissed in a harsh tone while trying to throw her body off the wheel. "I have deals with people in high places. I'm not gonna die. They promised."

"You really believe in promises, girlie?" I cocked my head to the side, thumping my knife in my palm. "Your mother promised to always love you when she gave birth to you, but what did she do? Get drunk and fuck the pool boy on her precious yacht while you sat at home, crying because the only thing you had to keep you company were your thousands of shoes and paid servants?"

Her face hardened, as she pulled at her tights cuffs. "You don't know anything about me. I grew up in lush and lavish while you were probably getting fingered by grown men in foster care."

"Whoa, you know how to hit below the belt, dontcha?" I sauntered around the wheel. "But I wouldn't expect anything less from a spoiled little bitch whose highest accomplishment is keeping her hymn intact." I sliced the back of her thigh and she gasped. "And you were wrong. I wasn't raised in foster care. But that's okay."

Kicking the wheel to make it flat, she squeaked when it landed downward, and the blade of the knife tapped her smooth stomach, softly breaking skin. She shuddered as I trailed upwards, stopping between her tits. "We're gonna get to know each other real well tonight. I'm gonna know you inside and out and wear you like a thong."

The blade dove from her chest to the side of her thigh, making a large slice first and then digging in deep. Jerking, annoying sobs left her mouth as thick liquid seeped from the large wound, dribbling onto the floor.

My index and middle finger lunged into the dripping gash with a loud squelch, wiggling. "So tight and warm," I whispered, loving the velvety feel of her flesh on my skin. "And such a pretty color too."

"S-stop it," she said before gasping, fingers digging into the leather.

I continued thrusting inside the bloody gash, sticky liquid gushing down my fingers to my wrists. It felt like I was digging inside a wet hotdog, the flesh rubbing against me like a dick in a condom.

"You're so wet, Gmie," I said, extracting my fingers. Bright red fluid smeared every crevice and fingerprint, a strong waft of heat fluttering up my body. "Can't believe you would cheat on Demo like this. I didn't know you liked me like that."

"You're such a freak." Her chest hammered up and down like sneakers in a marathon. "H-help me, anybody. Get her away from m-me."

"Aww I love it when you say lovey dovey things to me," I said, eyes fluttering shut a moment. "Makes me feel so special." I jumped on top of the wheel with her, and she yelled for help as I hovered over her on all fours. I padded up her body like a panther, slithering upwards until we came face to face.

"What you got to say now?" I asked, my breath close to her lips.

"That you're fucking crazy like I thought," she said through pants. "And I should've killed you a long time ago."

"I know," I agreed, nodding. "You should've."

"Help me," she cried out again. "A-anybody, please."

"Why you wanna leave? This date just got started. We haven't even ordered appetizers yet, and you know their endless, right?" My lips loomed over her face, merely inches away. I blew out a breath, making her blink. "No one's coming, girlie. Scratch that, I'll be coming later, but no one's coming to save you."

"They will. They promised," she screeched, buckling her body. "He promised, and you're gonna pay for this. All of this. I swear."

Leaning further down, my teeth nibbled her chin, tasting chlorine, vanilla and my favorite thing — fear with a speckle of desperation. "Will I?" I moved lower, coming to the middle of her boobs. "Will I really?"

"Yes! I will destroy your whole fucking life," she stated through heavy pants. "You're gonna—"

Her voice was irritating me, so I did what I did best. Bite.

My teeth latched onto the side of her inner titty, letting the soft tissue mold onto the edge. It was softer than an ankle, texture reminding me of raw chicken breast.

The cruel whining that spewed from her throat made me crunch down harder, thin liquid and flesh oozing through my teeth, and then I yanked back like a vicious dog, taking a piece of meat with me.

The bone-chilling yelps that followed from her made my head fuzzy and thighs tighten, as speckles of blood covered her chest and my face, her body rising and falling like an air pump.

"D-did y-you just bite my breas—" she said, eyes like large bowls, body quacking.

Lips smacking together because of the thick plasma smudging them, I chewed the salty, meaty chunk like bubblegum, liquid dripping down my chin. It tasted very bland, so I spat it at her, watching it ricochet to the ground. "Eww, Tiran tasted better. And he was dead."

Wet sobs started racking her body, making the wheel shake as she thrashed and screamed.

I rolled my eyes and jumped off the wheel. "Stop crying like a fucking baby. I only took a small bite. I did worse to Layla's killer." I went to her leg, staring at her bare ankle. "Which you are not sadly."

"You'll d-die for this, I s-swear," she said between sobs, snot slinking down her cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah." I sauntered into the bathroom, gripping my bag of surprises off the floor with a bright smile.

Gmie hollered for help in my absence, and I mocked screamed with her as I dropped the bag on the floor and stared at her bloody body.

"What shall I use first?"

"If you h-harm me a-again," she whispered through pants.

I laughed. "What are you gonna do? Sic your parents on me? Bitch, your parents don't even like you."

"My p-parents love me," she shouted in a nasty tone like she was trying to convince herself more than me.

I shifted through the bag on the floor. "Do they?" I asked, taking out a branding iron with my name as the branding head. "Weren't you the one who said they probably don't even know you're gone?"

Gmie stayed silent and just glared, panting loudly.

"Your mommy and daddy are probably toasting on their new private island, happy that their failure of a daughter is gone." I widened my eyes. "Ah, what if they were the ones who sponsored you, huh?"

The look on her face told me that she considered that already. "Oh, so you thought that too."

"No, I didn't," she snapped. "My parents aren't fucked up like yours. Your parents had to be pretty damn loopy to produce a mutant like you."

"Probably," I said, grabbing a lighter from the bag. "But yours had to be pretty fucked up too to sponsor their own daughter." I kicked the wheel up, making her body stand up.

Clicking on the lighter, the flame ate at the branding head, igniting my name in a fiery blaze, burnt orange and blue filling the dim atmosphere. Severe heat fanned my face, tickling my pores as a savage grin poured across the bottom half of my face.

"W-what are you doing with that?" she asked, eyes getting bigger.

"You're intelligent, Gmie. What do you think I'm gonna do with a branding iron?" I blew her a kiss. "Instead of giving you flowers for our first date, I'm giving you a piece of me. On your ass."

"Get back." Gmie bucked her body, shaking the wooden device, but it stood strong, never letting her go.

"Nope. I'm a freak, remember? Freaky people do things like this." I tore the underwear from her body and furrowed my brows at what I saw down there.

"I always figured you to be a bush type girl, but you got a full mohawk going on."

"Shut up," she said and tried to knee me away.

Laughing, I moved behind her and lit the iron again before pressing it close to her naked ass cheek. My name — TINI sparkled brightly in the shadows, making me smile. "You feel that, girlie?"

"W-hat is the point of this?" she shouted, buckling.

"To make me feel better. And, I want to hear you scream." On that last word, my scorching name devoured her ass cheek like a virgin boy with lotion. The hot metal sizzled and smoked on impact, as a roaring shriek shot out of Gmie's body like a pitcher throwing a baseball — quick, short and powerful.

The enchanting fragrance of burned flesh and ass circulated the atmosphere like perfume in a department store. I pulled back the iron, seeing my name spelled beautifully and crisply against her buttocks.

Just the sight of it made me go through one pair of panties. Thankfully, I had two more on. Biting my lip, my fingertips touched my name this time, and sugary adrenaline shot right to my core. Yesssss!

Tossing the rod to the floor with a small clack, Gmie panted and slumped against the wheel, sweat pouring down her face in large buckets, chest hammering.

"Don't get tired on me now. We just finished the appetizers and our salads are on the way," I said, walking around her. "Wait, I got soup instead."

"Fu-fuc," she whispered, trying to get it out but stopped as her eyes closed.

I kicked the wheel downward, so she was flat again. My fingers knuckled the strong wood. "Do you know what you're attached too?" I asked, going back to my bag and pulling out a stun-gun baton. Clicking the button, a bright, white electric charge sizzled on the end before going out.

"Huh?" she said, sounding confused.

"It's called a Catherine wheel or an execution wheel if you want to simplify it. It was used on thieves and murderers back in the day." I smiled, letting the electric current run for a minute. It was such a simple thing yet so pretty. They need to make vibrators out of this stuff. "They used to kill them with the wheel by attaching them to it and rolling it or using the wheel to attack people and break every born in their body, leaving them for dead. Lovely, right?"

Gmie didn't answer me. Just closed her eyes and breathed, chest falling.

I continued on. "It's such a pretty instrument. I updated it a bit though, adding in some leather cuffs. Nice, right?" I walked over to her. "The reason I chose such a pristine device was because of you. It's named after Saint Catherine of Alexandria. A virgin Christian saint. Just like you, Gmie. You're so innocent, right? You wear your virginity like a scarlet A, right?'

I jabbed the sizzling baton near her vagina, the electric current licking her like candy. Eyes rolled upwards, Gmie twitched like a rat's nose, tongue lolling to the side until I turned it off.

Slumping, chin on chest, thick spit poured down her stomach. Yuck.

"Pool lil Gmie." I laughed and jabbed again and again. Every time the electric hit her, her tongue flopped, her eyes rolled, and she'd quiver. It was like having my own live-action cartoon character. It was awesome.

"Stop it," she whispered after the sixth time.

"Stop it," I said, mocking her tone. "Did you stop it when you tried to kill me with your lackeys when the pact was over? No, you would've slit my throat and tossed my body away like trash."

I hit her with the electric again, making her body vibrate like a washing machine. "And lest not forget the cake challenge when you pushed me back down and made me lose." I paused the baton. "But I did get to try human meat in return so I can't be too angry. I'll forgive you on that one." I turned it on again, making her squeak. "But you did try to turn the whole house against me. And you bullied Layla. And you keep calling Chi a slut—"

"I c-can't take any-anymore," she said, cutting me off, eyes closing.

I pulled the baton back. "If you're worried about dying from this, you won't. I made Rucker request one on the lowest setting possible. It won't kill but it still hurts like a bitch." I poked her again, and she buckled and arched deep until I let go and saw her pant, chest heaving up and down like waves.

Without turning it on, I put the baton back on her skin, making her flinch. I laughed. "Gotcha."

Gmie wheezed, face looking haggard and weak. She slumped, head falling to the side. I tossed the baton, bored and went back for my hunting knife, slicing up her tense body.

She moaned and buckled weakly before closing her eyes.

I smacked her awake. "Didn't your momma ever tell you not to fall asleep in front of company? It's quite rude, especially when we just finished our first course."

She glared. "F-fuc-ck y-you."

I stepped back, giving her a break. "I don't think Harvard would like your filthy mouth. But oh yeah, you didn't really get in."

"Yes, I did," she panted out after a few moments.

"No, girlie. You killed for that spot." A devilish smile painted my lips. "I looked your family up, and they weren't too hard to find. The McWaltens are one of the richest families in the US. Your father's a business tycoon, and your mother works in commercial real estate, am I right?"

She said nothing.

"They've both built quite a name for themselves and know a lot of important people." The tip of my knife nicked her cheek, tiny droplets dribbling to the floor. "Your parents have donated a lot of money to your school in Manhattan — GH Prep. It was all over the newspapers." I paused. "You know what was also all over the newspapers? Student deaths. Apparently, two seniors from your school died of drug overdoses. From looking at their social medias, they were Harvard bound."

"S-so?" Gmie shrugged. "R-rich people do drugs all the time."

"So true. You seem like a coke bunny yourself." I licked the tip of my knife. "I also saw that some other Harvard bound seniors died as well. But they were from other states."

"How the f-fuck did you find that out?"

"Khan." My tongue lapped at my lips. "That boy can really find anything. But anyway, a few died from overdoses at parties and others got alcohol poisoning."

Gmie coughed and half-shrugged. "Such a s-shame. They di-died so young."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "They all died in different months and in different states. Such a coincidence that they died so suddenly and tragically."

"Well that's life," Gmie said, locking eyes with me.

"Well, it does look suspicious that you're wait-listed and a bunch of teens who actually got in just coincidentally die and you suddenly get in."

"Shit happens," she spat out.

I tapped the end of my knife on her calf muscle. "I also saw that your cousin Jamal got into Harvard too," I said, gazing at her. "It was on your father's Instagram. He even posted a picture of the surprise congratulations party he threw for him." I laughed. "Funny, I didn't see anything on his Instagram about you getting in. No party or anything."

Gmie looked downward, cheeks clenching.

"I looked up your cousin too. His parents died several years back in a car crash, and your parents basically adopted him. From all the pictures and praise, it seems like your parents adored him. Jamal even posted that he was majoring in business. Just like your father. He was the perfect son, right?"

"Ok-kay? What does that have to do with a-anything?' Gmie grounded out, teeth clenching.

I shrugged, slicing at her calf muscle, making her twitch. "Nothing. Jamal seemed like a cool dude, and I just wanted to offer my sincere condolences for his death. Him drowning at your family's lake house like that had to be very traumatic for you."

♟♙♟