In the Shadows | Special Edition | Red Foil

When you finally meet the monster hiding under your bed.

One, two, I’m coming for you. She’s my obsession.

Three, four, kneel on the floor. I want to possess her in every way.

Five, six, I’m up to my old tricks. She knows me as The Portland Serial K!ll3r.

Seven, eight, lay in wait. Little does she know I’m watching her.

Nine, ten, never to be seen again. Welcome to your worst nightmare, Little Lamb.

Who am I? Let me introduce myself. I’m Death. And I have found my Queen.

Ella McCloud you’re the flicker of light in my dark, dark world. The color in my grayscale existence. I yearn for you like the night yearns for the stars.

I crept into Ella McCloud’s bedroom. Through the parted curtains, the full moon cast a glow on her beautiful curves, and I settled into the grey chair nestled in the corner. Every luscious part of her body was exquisite, and I yearned to feel my knife run along the dips and valleys of her porcelain skin. The possibilities of how I could etch my marks into her flesh flooded my mind until my cock twitched, begging to be inside of her.

She sighed softly and rolled over, exposing her long, toned legs from beneath the blankets. Her neck was poised perfectly and allowed the access I craved. I willed myself not to run my tongue along the curve and taste her.

My dick begged for release while I fantasized that she woke up, terrified. I envisioned her eyes popping wide open as I slipped the knife into her stomach. The cut, as smooth as butter, would steal her breath as she realized what I’d done.

I clenched my jaw and berated myself for allowing my sinful thoughts to consume me. Not my Ella. That wasn’t my plan for her. I bathed in my other victims’ blood after slicing and dicing them, but not her. Ella was the flicker of light in my dark world, the color in my grayscale existence, and I yearned for her like the night yearns for stars.

The first moment I saw her and spotted her shoulder-length dark hair and piercing green eyes, I had to have her. The gentle touch of water on her face made her skin glisten, and as the droplets clung to her eyelashes, my world came to a standstill. Ella was breathtaking, and the only sound I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. Her mere presence electrified my heightened senses, resonating deep within my soul and drawing me to her.

As I massaged the back of my neck, the heavenly but faint smell of her peach and vanilla bodywash lingered in the air, imprinting on my mind. Although I’d first seen Ella one year ago, this was the first time I’d entered her house. A thrill surged through me.

Captivated by her beauty, I pressed the flat edge of the blade against my lower lip and slid it back and forth. The cold steel sent shivers down my spine as I gazed at Ella's chest rising and falling, her tightly fitted tank top accentuating her full breasts. The sharp knife grazed my lower lip, drawing a drop of blood that I eagerly licked off with my tongue, savoring its metallic tang.

Life was so fragile—here one second and gone the next. It would be so easy to take away the life she’d built for herself—steal her soul and make it mine for all eternity.

My hand clenched the blade's hilt, the veins in my forearm branching out like a spider's web. I moved closer to her bed, my target oblivious to my proximity.

Her black hair cascaded like a midnight waterfall, deep and enigmatic, reflecting hints of blue or brown under the moonlight. Its richness and depth never failed to captivate me, embodying both the mystery of the night sky and the warmth of a shadowed ember. An overwhelming urge to touch her washed over me. I brushed pieces of hair from her forehead, the strands so delicate and pristine between my fingers.

I reached out my bloodstained fingertip and lightly stroked her cheek with just a whisper of a graze. My little lamb consumed my thoughts. With one glance in my direction, she had become my obsession, and soon I would be hers.

We were meant for each other—even if it meant killing people along the way. I had to have her for my own—no matter what it took because …

Even Death deserved a Queen.