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Displeasures of the Flesh

Chapter 11

With that, the door scraped shut.

The man’s breathing evened the second he heard the door slam. You watched him contort himself, his back bent uncomfortably, into a position where he could get a better look at your little room. He had a shock of pitch black hair, cropped short save for various stray cowlicks that spiked upward in several locations. His skin was pale and scarred, specifically where his face met his skull. There were scratch marks, self inflicted. It looked as though he had attempted to peel his face off.

When he turned to you, red eyes glowing, he grinned. Impossibly sharp canines glinted in the low light and fear made your heart pound wildly inside your ribs.

You knew that look.

He said something in a language you couldn’t understand. A low snarl that sounded like he was gargling nails. Glee glinted in his eyes, his pupils dilated so wide, they looked black. Fuck. You knew that look. It was the same one Kaon had in that old shack and the same look he had when he tore into those soldiers.

You were about to be murdered, and not by the man you wanted.