Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen, #1)(12)

I craved it. Needed it.

But I didn’t just want to make someone bleed… I wanted to bask in it. Just the thought alone of taking someone’s life was the only thing that could make my dick swell.

So, one night, just after midnight on my eighteenth birthday, I followed a man into a park. For the last few weeks, I had been watching him from afar. He enjoyed beating women down verbally, and although I hadn’t seen anything physical yet, didn’t mean it’d never happened. I had just seen him shouting vulgarly at a woman outside of a bar about ten minutes prior.

This ended tonight.

The air was so cold I could see my own breath. My fingertips were numb beneath my black, leather gloves. But even in the dead of winter, my body felt like it was on fire.

A rush of adrenaline pumped wildly through my veins.

Hiding within the shadows and far enough away from the dim lights, I stalked my prey. My victim staggered drunkenly through the park. This would be easy.

I’d had the last three years to prepare for this moment.

This kill.

I scanned our surroundings to ensure we were alone. The park was completely empty, and dark, which meant I had the upper hand. As he stumbled over his own two feet, and fell onto his knees, my lips curved into a sadistic grin.

Here he was, practically gift-wrapped from the devil himself, just for me.

Now was my chance.

Creeping toward him, I watched his backside closely as he stood. But before I took another step, I froze. My senses immediately became heightened. Something was off.

I could feel it in my bones.

We were not alone.

Suddenly, a figure dressed in all black stepped out from the copse of trees, his face covered by some type of mask. Except, he was not coming toward me. He made his way toward the drunk and hit him over the head, knocking him out cold.

The sound of footsteps resonated from behind me.

Within seconds, there was a dark hood covering my face, and my arms were tightly secured behind my back. There must have been several of them. I fought them at first, throwing them off me, even though my view was obstructed. Abruptly, I was tackled to the ground. My wrists were zip tied. There were too many of them. Four? Five, maybe?

There was no way of knowing.

It all happened so quickly.

Not a single one of them even made a sound.

They were too fast. Too calculated. They’d done this before.

Although, I wouldn’t be taken this easy. I struggled in their hold, writhing on the ground beneath them. Until something came down hard on my head, and everything went black.

When I eventually came to, I became hyperaware of my surroundings. My head throbbed. I was disoriented from the blow to my skull, yet I was on high alert. I was still hooded, and I couldn’t see a damn thing. I blinked through the darkness, beads of sweat rolling down my face. It felt like I was chained to a chair.

Bastards.

I’d kill them.

“I thought I had made it clear to bring him here unharmed,” a deep voice boomed through the room, catching me off guard.

“He put up a fight,” another voice replied.

“Of course,” the deep voice shot back. “That was anticipated, was it not?”

“Yes, sir,” they all replied in unison.

“Remove it,” he ordered.

They complied.

The hood was finally yanked off my head, allowing me to breathe. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. Scanning the room, I took in the sight of five men.

My captors.

Dressed in all black, they stood tall, and their true identities remained hidden. Each of them wore a chrome skull mask secured over their face, all the same, yet uniquely different in their own way.

Scowling at them, I released a cocky laugh, unimpressed. “Pity. I feel left out,” I said, sarcasm thick in my tone. “Apparently, I didn’t get the memo.”

A tall, dark figure stepped out from the shadows, also masked.

“Damien,” he stated, now towering over me. “Happy birthday.”

Great. The bastard knew me. I snorted. “Is it, though?” I countered.

“It’s been a while,” he remarked. “A long time coming.”

Cocking my head to the side, I shrugged. “Has it?” I taunted, spitting on the old, scuffled, wooden floor. We were in some type of shed. A cabin, maybe? “I don’t quite recognize your voice.”

He stepped closer, pulling his hood down. With that, he removed his mask, and I was met with a pair of dark-blue eyes. “You were just a boy the last time I saw you. The mere age of four, I believe?”

“Sorry, man. I don’t recall,” I replied with a sly smirk. “Clearly, you didn’t make a memorable first impression.”

“You’re a smart ass, huh?” he dryly questioned with a laugh, folding his arms across his chest.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned into the chains, testing their hold. “So I’ve been told,” I muttered. “Why the fuck am I here? If it’s torture you’re set on, then let me tell you straight up. I’m all for it. Give it your best shot.”

“The resemblance between the two of you is uncanny,” he told me.

My body tensed, and I strained my neck to glare into his eyes.

“You look just like him. Your father.”

I struggled against the chains. They rattled loudly with my lousy attempt to break free. Groans of pure rage and frustration escaped my mouth.