Scream For Us (Holiday Masked Men #1)(14)

The rest to go.

Adrenaline rages through me as I rush into another room, spotting a guy in scene, dressed as a crazy, old scientist. How fucking cliché.

“Are you going to be my next subject?” he asks, reciting his corny line, gesturing down to a fake corpse on what appears to be a metal operating table.

“No,” I growl, jumping over the table as he stumbles backward. “But you’re mine.”

He turns to run from me, shocked and confused, until I bury my knife into his back. Crippling over, he then drops to his knees, in a state of shock. That’s when the pain finally hits him, ripping through his body. And he screams in both agony and fear, as I twist the blade sideways in his flesh.

“John?” I sadistically ask, demanding an answer.

“Y-y-yes,” he chokes out, collapsing onto the floor, convulsing.

“Johnny boy!” I humorously shout, yanking out the knife before rolling up my sleeves.

With a quick toss in the air, I catch my knife by the rippled handle, before burying the sharp metal between his shoulder blades next.

“This is for Quinn,” I mutter dryly, kicking him in the ribs. “One stab for every year you and your friends tortured her.”

There’s another crunch as I stab him again. Again. And again. I end up getting off track and lose count in a fit of rage. There’s more gurgling. Quiet whimpers of desperation, as he begins to crawl forward, using what little energy he has left.

“How aren’t you dead yet?” I joke, stepping on his back, now covered with deep gashes, and soaked with blood. I click my tongue at him. “You’re not going anywhere, Johnny boy. This is the part where you die for what you did to her.”

And right on cue, any hint of remaining life leaves his body.

Jason enters the room, catching me off guard, his jacket stained with blood. “There’s gasoline out back in a shed.”

“Good find,” I sharply breathe, pulling my knife from Johnny boy’s flesh.

“I grabbed some and left it at the back door.”

“Where’s Alex?” I demand, still fuming.

With a nod of his head, he motions to another hallway.

There he is in the center of the room, chained to a wooden chair, duct tape covering his mouth. My dick twitches at the thought of ending his life.

Getting revenge for little Quinn.

It’s a sight to see as tears stream down his face.

“Poor Alex,” I recite Ghostface’s famous line. “You think this is all about you? You think you’re still the star?”

He mumbles against the tape, until I rip it off. “What the fuck is this,” he squeals, desperation and fear flickering in his eyes.

“This is about Quinn. What you did to her,” I spit out.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he shrieks.

“Crazy for her,” I say through clenched teeth, ripping off my mask, and shoving my face in his. “You fucked up. And now, you’re going to pay for it.”

“Help,” he shouts, becoming silent as I press the tip of my blade against his neck.

“Your friends can’t help you,” I shout back, cutting his throat. “They’re dead.”

A girl rushes into the room and screams out in horror, taking in the sight of blood pouring from the gaping slit. Jason chases after her into another room, disappearing from my view.

Pulling on my mask, I grab the gasoline at the back door. Jason enters through a doorway shortly after, tossing a bloody, metal bat onto the ground.

“Start at the front,” I instruct, handing him the canister of gasoline.

“What if we missed someone?” he asks.

“The flames will take care of the others.”

He nods, exiting the room.

“Ghost?”

My gaze darts over to the soft voice coming from the back door, when suddenly, I see her. Quinn.

“What are you doing here?” I harshly question.

“I was worried,” she fearfully replies, stepping into the room. “I needed to make sure you were alright.”

Stepping toward her, she moves back, until her body is trapped against the wall. My cock swells, uncomfortably straining against my pants.

“Fuck,” I grunt, slamming my hands onto the wall beside her head, locking her between my arms.

A sexy, little squeal escapes her lips.

“You make my dick so fucking hard, Quinn, it hurts,” I groan, leaning against her.

All this murder has really gotten to me this time. The sight of blood always makes my dick hard. I need to be inside her. Buried in that tight, wet, little cunt.

“I need to fuck you,” I breathe, throwing back my head as she unbuttons my pants. “Right now.”

Dropping to her knees, she yanks down my pants, and wastes no time wrapping her lips around my cock. Thrusting forward, she gags, while I plunge in and out of her warm mouth. Firmly holding myself at the base with my forefinger and thumb, I guide her hand to my balls.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” I grunt with each thrust.

She gags on my dick again, her cheeks flushing, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. She’s trying to please me with everything in her.

And she does.

Leaning down, I link my arm around her and ease her onto her back, pinning her to the dusty hardwood floor. After tearing open the buttons at her crotch, I spit in my hand, burying it between her thighs to get her ready for me.