His Obsession

32: blood lust

Author's Note:
This chapter is super short, 1.1k words because it is basically a continuation of the last chapter, just in Ryder's POV.

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Seven fucking days. Seven days I have been apart from Layla. I am losing my grip on reality, rapidly descending into insanity. The voices are at an all time high, ruining me with the words they shout. The physical pain is nothing compared to the mental agony.

I have a gunshot wound, my head is busted open, my hand is fractured, my face bruised and busted as well. Yet none of it compares to being apart from her. She is my lifeline. The only thing in this world that matters to me. Each second away from her suffocates me. I never knew I could endure pain like this. I am falling apart. I can't eat, I barely sleep but when I do, I dream of her. I dream of her beautiful pale skin, flaming red hair, those lips I would die to kiss, that soft voice telling me she loves me. I can only hope she is dreaming of me as well.

The fear of what is being done to her, crushes me. It rips me open, bleeding me dry. I've thrown up because of the fear being too strong. I failed her. I'm not there to protect her. Anything could happen to her. They could be hurting her, brainwashing her against me.

They seem to think I am some monster that has damaged her. I know I've fucked up. I regret every time I harmed her but they don't fucking understand that woman is my world. I would die for her. I would let them fry me in the electric chair if that meant she would be okay.

I've considered killing myself at this point. Ending the suffering, but I can't. I refuse to have her suffer through this alone, thinking I took the easy way out and abandoned her. I have to stay alive, for her. Just like I know deep down she is doing for me. I have to believe she is strong, she will fight until we can be together again.

I need to find a way out of here, it's just difficult to do when my mind is trying to kill me. I'm also starving. I refuse to eat the food they only give me once every two days. My body is sore from the constant beatings they give me. Anytime I try to think of an escape, my mind drifts off to her, while the voices remind me how pathetic I am.

I'm stupid.
Weak.
Worthless.
I failed.
I didn't protect her.
I deserve to die.
They will turn her against me.
They will make her hate me.
I have lost her.

All things constantly shouted at me inside my head. The thought that I have lost her sends me to the darkest place imaginable. It makes me want to rip my heart out. I have broken down, on my knees, begging that she still loves me, that I will see her again. I can't survive without her. I wouldn't even need the electric chair or lethal injection if they gave me the death penalty. If Layla gave up on me, that would surely kill me on the spot.

As I sit here, my head aching from banging it against the wall, I try to imagine her here with me. I try to imagine her reading books to me, the way she would laugh and smile over the smallest things, the way she would look at me when I came home to her with such love. If I try hard enough, I can almost feel her.

While I think about her, the memories of what I have done always rear their ugly head. I see myself hitting her, kicking her, battering her poor body, and it makes it difficult to breathe. How I could ever do that to her, I don't understand. I let my anger get the best of me, taking it out on the only good thing in my life.

Once I find a way out of her, and we are together, I vow to never let that happen again. I will never put my hands on her, unless it is with love. I will show her how much she means to me. I will stop manipulating and abusing her. I will change. She deserves that. She deserves the fucking world.

While lost in thought, the door clicks open, while I don't even bother to stand, knowing what is coming. The beatings. I normally would never allow someone to win over me, harm me, but I believe I deserve the pain for failing her, so I let them.

The officer walks in, throwing a tray down onto the ground, while it splatters everywhere. I barely even glance at it before my back gets kicked hard, almost knocking me to the ground face first.

"Come on. Aren't you some big bad killer? You don't look so tough to me."

He taunts me, while continuing to kick. He doesn't realize I am allowing this. If I wanted to I could easily rip his head off his shoulders, and kick it across the room. I could skin him with my bare hands. Rip him open, hang him from his intestines. The thought almost brings a smirk to my face.

"That little girl of yours got sent away, all by herself. Wonder what they're doing to her all alone."

My head snaps up, unhinged fury building within me.

"Oh there you go. She your weakness? The killer got a soft spot? Well guess what, I bet you they're taking real good care of her if you know what I mean."

My eye twitches, vision going in and out, I'm up to my feet, grabbing the tray, lunging at him before he can react. The hard plastic smashes against his skull brutally, as he falls to the ground. Pure blood lust takes over as I get ontop him, pummeling him with my fists until his face starts caving in, blood splattering across the room.

"Don't. Ever. Speak. About. Her."

I scream while continuing to hit him, his head now unrecognizable. I don't stop until alarms sound, officers swarming in the room, attempting to rip me off of him, but I refuse to stop or let go. My finger digs into his eye socket, ripping the eyeball out as blood splatters across my face. A sick smile covers my features, before something is slammed into the back of my head, and everything goes black.

End Of Chapter Thirty Two