The cops are probably aware that something untoward is happening in the surrounding towns and city, but I’m careful to cover my tracks and remain undetected while pursuing my desires. People go missing—it’s tragic, but that’s the way life is. Human existence is as fleeting and fragile as the petals adorning a springtime flower, withering and dying before the season’s end.
I’m slowly working my way into Violet’s life, burrowing into the essence of her being and trapping her within the roots of my desire. She’s beginning to trust me, to rely on me, and as time passes she will become completely bound to me. My phone vibrates again.
ViBlackthorn1064: I missed you, and I’m glad I didn’t upset you. I don’t really have anyone in my life to talk to. It’s like having a friend, even though I don’t know all that much about you. V.
Before I can respond to her heartfelt and emotional message, another pops up on the screen.
ViBlackthorn1064: I’m sorry, that was so mushy. I probably sound completely desperate and idiotic. V.
ShadowZ952: Don’t apologize, you can tell me anything. Z.
The smallest twinge of guilt bubbles up in my gut, but I burst it before it can take hold of me. This is what I wanted: her to trust me, to open up to me, to tell me her darkest fears and secrets so I can make her mine. It’s manipulative, even cruel, but when I think of her surrendering herself to me, I can’t bring myself to stop. I need her like flowers need light to survive, but I know I will overwhelm and crush this innocent little flower with my shadows in the end.
I’m a monster, and Violet’s my prey. The deadly predator within me rejoices at her easy admissions of affection for an unknown entity. Her naivety will be her undoing, and I have yet to find any remorse inside me for the fact I’ll be the one to tear everything she knows apart.
Chapter Eight
Z
As the weeks pass, my violent desires demand nearly constant satisfaction, and it becomes harder to keep my bloodthirsty demons restrained. The days are warmer, and the flowers in the garden are blossoming with life, their colors so vibrant and diverse it’s like walking into a dream world. I’m a murderer, and this secret garden is my graveyard for the ashes of fallen flowers. I’ve lost count of how many flowers I’ve planted, and the only thing driving me forward is the need to keep them alive within the earth until Violet can join them.
The cops have finally noticed something is amiss, but they’ve no leads and nothing that traces back to me. Kit has all but faded into the background, but the key he gave me to the morgue burns in my pocket like the fires there that consume every scrap of evidence. One of the first times I destroyed the evidence myself, I had him teach me what to do with everything the flames wouldn’t turn to dust. Over the past few weeks, I’ve become so proficient that I could consider a change of career, but I enjoy what I do far too much to quit.
My father left me a legacy of being a gardener like he was. My methods may be far more violent than his, but I can’t deny that I show my garden the same care and devotion he did. Both of us drove Rose mad with our dedication to cultivating life from the smallest of seeds, and as I look around at my beautiful beds of flowers, it makes me wonder if he would be proud of what I’ve done.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. If I speak to my little flower while I’m trapped in this haze of bloodlust, I’ve no idea what I’d say. I need to shelter her from my demons a little while longer. I’ve pushed her boundaries, and I’ve even asked her to meet, knowing she would decline. Her cautiousness is so appealing, but I know I’m wearing her down, and my silence is just another game I’m playing with her. I’d never tell her just how far down the rabbit hole she has tumbled. Nor how, if she ever surrenders, I’ll drag her down into the darkest depths so she’ll never be free of me.
I can deny it all I want, but I’ve tumbled down there with her. She’s consuming me as much as I want to devour her, and she’s a constant presence in my mind. It’s been months since our first encounter, and I’m spiraling. I’m losing myself in the darkness that’s eclipsing every inch of my life, plunging me into an abyss no light can penetrate, and I can feel myself losing patience the longer I keep myself from taking her. I’m salivating at the thought of finally tasting her, touching her, possessing her. I’d be stunned by the ferocity of my desire for Violet if I wasn’t aware of how much time I’ve spent obsessing over an array of fantasies, all featuring her.
I’ve never wanted to keep a flower as much as I do her...I’ve never wanted to keep them full stop. My own inner conflict when it comes to her is baffling. What is it about Violet that is driving me over the edge of sanity in a way no other flower has ever managed to do?
I’m not becoming soft, and I’m not weakening in the bright light she shines into my life. If anything, my mind has become even more twisted with the destructive urges I’m intent on
