Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“So…” Her lips tremble, and she doesn’t meet my eyes. “About my stay.”
“This wasn’t how I pictured discussing it,” I admit. “But if you want it to be here, then have a seat, you won’t get cold.”
Her eyes meet mine again. “I’m always cold here.”
I smile. “Sit by me, and you’ll always be warm.”
“Why?”
“Because where there is life, there is warmth.”
“And death?” she asks.
“Darkness. Cold. Despair. But I’m none of those things, at least not right now. Only when I must be will you know and freeze your small ass off.”
“My ass isn’t small.” She lifts her chin.
I laugh, I can’t help it. What a strange human. “You’re on an ice bridge created out of fire and that’s what you focus on?”
She shrugs. “I’m telling myself it’s a dream so I don’t have a nervous breakdown.”
“How’s that working out for you?” And why does she look so innocent yet godlike standing in front of me? What right does she have to be so pretty when she’s a dead woman walking?
“I might still be drunk, or hallucinating, so pretty good.” She laughs and then sits on the bridge. Silver pulses beneath the ice going straight to the cliff only to come back again green, pink, blue; it changes colors, pulsing like a heartbeat.
I tell myself to hate her.
To loathe what she represents.
I remind myself that in the end, no matter how charming, they’re always the same bloodline of the self-seeking asshole I need to kill.
She feels different because it’s been a while.
She’s not.
Nothing unique.
So I just come out and say it.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Her eyes widen, she slides back on the ice, hitting her head on it before crawling farther back. “What?”
“Dead.” I shrug. “Your time is limited on this earth. I’ll be kind about it. But sacrifices must be made. Go to the police if you feel the need to. They’ll do nothing. You will die. And it will be by my hand. As charming as you are. Your only job until that day, is to read your brother’s research, explore all the artifacts you love so much, enjoy the luxury of my house, eat my food, experience one last shred of happiness, and evaporate.”
“Are you insane?” she yells, getting to her feet and scrambling backwards again only to fall on her ass. “You’re a psychopath!”
“Maybe.” I shrug and take a menacing step toward her. “Try to stop me.”
“I’m calling the cops! The FBI! I’m telling everyone!” Tears stream down her cheeks. “Wake up, Cleo, wake up!”
Ah, always the same responses.
“You aren’t dreaming. And as I said, if that makes you feel better, go for it.” I loom over her, even as she keeps slipping and sliding backwards. I look behind her, and my strides get wider until I’ve completely caught up to her when she jumps onto the dock.
I push her against the rock wall and smirk down at her. “I really did think you would be different, but you’re the same, just like the rest of them. A pathetic mix of godlike lust and humanity. You’re an abomination, and you don’t even know it. You will, though. You’ll know pain, then you’ll know pleasure, and then you’ll know darkness. It’s better this way. I even…” I reach for her chin then pull my fingers back. “I even faltered a few times and thought to keep you, but temptation is the same as falling, and I’ve been doing that for a very long time, so, pretend this conversation never happened, get back to exploring in the morning, enjoy the luxury.”
“The luxury of dying!” she screams at me and lifts her fist like she’s going to punch me.
“The luxury,” I repeat blocking her punch and holding her fist hostage, “of knowledge. That’s my gift to you, knowing that on the day you die…” I lean in and whisper in her ear, “…everything you read or see in that warehouse is fact.”
“You’re crazy!” She shoves away from me.
I don’t move.
I stare her down.
She’s fierce.
Beautiful.
Terrified.
“Careful. Do you even know who you’re talking to?” I ask.
She tries to kick me with one foot, then throws another punch that I easily catch with my right hand.
At least she attempts to fight.
Cleo lets out a scream. “You’re just a stupid man with a god complex!”
“No, princess…” I lean in, my lips linger by her left ear, softly caressing it as I speak. “I am Ra, God of the Sun, God of Order, God of fucking Kings, Lord of the Sky. I have many names, but to speak them is death. I am, as of today, the one and only god you worship, until the bitter end. And as of that contract you signed for access to the warehouse, you’re mine.”
“To kill?”
“Sacrifice sounds so much cleaner,” I say, “and it must be made, but don’t worry, I’ll keep you alive long enough to enjoy the best in life. Again, think of it like a gift.”