Prologue One: The Rise
It was late on a summer night. Not a sound could be heard in the streets on the outskirts of the city. The wind blew the smell of sea salt in the air and it masked the scent of blood that came from a small alleyway between apartment buildings.
No one heard it happen.
No one even noticed the man being killed. It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be quick.
It was.
Morgan was on his knees on the ground, his body covered in blood. It wasn’t his but it might as well been. His shaking hands were warm from the fresh blood that came from the man he killed. His face had splatters of blood as well as his hair. Where he sat on his knees the blood pooled on the ground.
He remembered the thrill that came moments before.
He held the knife so tight that it was hard to let go. And when he did, it meant it was completely over.
It was so euphoric that he almost blacked out from pure bliss.
The body continued to bleed on the ground, the dark liquid pooling and spreading further and further. Blood covered the man’s lifeless face, his mouth was open and his tongue gone. He was suffocated brutally, the bruises and blood around his throat; this was before having an arm forced in his esophagus.
That was truly an accident.
Morgan didn’t think it would go so far. He didn’t think he would feel that good to be covered in blood first of all, but he had his forearm down that dead man’s throat. It was frightening but it felt so good.
The warmth that covered his skin as his arm moved, opening up the muscles of the man’s neck, feeling the life literally leaving him from the inside out, if only Morgan could reach down further.
It was so quick.
But he wished it wasn’t.
Deep down, he wished that he wasn’t so quick to draw away from the dark feeling. He couldn’t get over what it felt like.
Morgan replayed everything that happened over and over again. The chills rose on his skin once more and it desperately made him want to do it again. And again.
And again.
The realization that came with how he enjoyed killing made him so worried that he began to panic. He was traumatized. He was scared. He never thought of murder like this. He spent years trying to defend against this, yet now he was part of what he tried to protect people from.
How could he enjoy ending someone’s life? How could he want to get off to the feeling of actually killing someone?
His heart was racing from the adrenaline. His body was shaking as he stared at the blood that pooled. It was red now. In the dark it looked black. Morgan could feel it on him. He remembered what it felt like when it first got on his hands. He remembered what it felt like when he sliced the man’s throat, the blood gushing over his skin. He remembered what it felt like when his arm reached...
He closed his eyes.
God, it felt so good. It was so wrong, but so good.
“I c-can’t...”
He didn’t like how much he liked it. It was traumatic. He shouldn’t enjoy murdering people. And the fact that he realized that he may keep going out and killing people just to feel the same way he felt minutes before was what made him think he had to stop.
He couldn’t handle it.
“You did fine.” Someone said behind him.
That wasn’t the point. Morgan closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He knows he did fine. He knows he did better than fine.
“Jaymin...I can’t.” Morgan felt the stress over his heart that caused the pain in his chest. He couldn’t go through with this again.
He loved it too much.
But he wasn’t like Jaymin. He wasn’t ruthless. He had a conscience. He did care about people. Morgan will always have a moment of weakness , that’s why this happened. He couldn’t keep it going like Jaymin could. He will always think about what if he hadn’t done it? Would just a few moments of satisfaction be worth a life?
Morgan couldn’t do it.
Jaymin thought otherwise.
“Did it feel good?” Jaymin got down beside him, wanting to know how Morgan felt about what he did.
And it was even more terrifying when Morgan nodded without hesitating.
If only he could keep killing.
He had no control. The only way he could remind himself not to go too far was because Jaymin was around. Jaymin just wanted Morgan to stop holding back and let loose.
Could he have done something crazier? Could he have really lost his mind and be more brutal?
Jaymin was so curious. He needed to break Morgan.
“You did fine.” Jaymin said again, his hand moving to Morgan’s cheek as he tried to reassure him.
Morgan was stunned. He felt Jaymin’s touch on his face, and that was the realest moment he’s had in a while. He looked at Jaymin, more confused and terrified than he’s been all night. He was concerned that Jaymin only cared about him going wild.
But it didn’t seem that way.
It’s not like Jaymin would leave him alone. He wanted to be with him. He could control him. There was no way he could let Morgan go through this by himself.
And Jaymin couldn’t let his killer back out now. He didn’t think Morgan would.
Jaymin saw it. The way Morgan’s eyes sparkled under the low lighting of the moon. It was a dark pleasure. He wanted it so bad. Morgan was practically aching for it. Jaymin could feel it. He knew Morgan enjoyed it. He could see it on his face as he took that man’s last breath.
Morgan knew what he was getting into. He knew what was happening. He wanted to fight it so badly. He knew what was right, but this felt right. He belonged right here.
He couldn’t tell Jaymin no.
He couldn’t say that he didn’t like this because he loved it.
He had to do it again.
He had to go for it again.
Jaymin leaned his head on Morgan’s shoulder and he stared at the dead body in front of them that was still bleeding; his hand dropped to Morgan’s other shoulder, and he felt his arms shaking. Was Morgan still nervous? The trembling didn’t last that much longer. Morgan felt a little more at ease, maybe because Jaymin was with him.
The warmth was still emanating from the dead man’s body, but it won’t be long before he’s completely cold.
Morgan did good.
But he could do better.