Read Online The Devil's Monologue by Kimberly Fuller - Free Book Online

have worked for may actually be happening.
“I'm here,” she announced, still irked but
slightly more vulnerable than she had been in her room. I eased at
her nervousness. This I could handle.
“Yes, you are,” I smirked.
“Say what you came to say or I'm going back
inside.”
“It's cold out here. I can see you're
shivering. My house isn't that far away and my truck is parked just
up the street. Why don't we sit in my garage and talk?” The words
so easily spewed out of my mouth. Granted this was not the first
time they had been used to lure a girl into my lair, but I was
still fearful she would not be persuaded so easily.
“I don't think so,” she answered quickly.
The terror beginning to bubble in her eyes. I tried desperately to
figure out how to make her understand that this was best for the
both of us, but came up short. A small crack of a twig sounded in
my ear as I remembered my cohort behind the tree.
“It wouldn't just be the two of us, if that
helps,” I blurted out.
She looked confused, and I think I was too,
but I motioned for Mike to come out from behind the tree, his own
face unsure of what action to take.
“See, Mikey will be there too. No pressure.
Just talk,” I tried subconsciously to will her to see my side of
this.
She glanced back and forth from each of us
several times, no doubt doubling checking the possibilities of
whether or not to accept my offer. A cool breeze blew through the
air, chilling her creamy skin.
“Just talking. And you do not leave the
room,” she demanded, pointed a tiny strict finger at Mike. He
raised his hands in playful defense and nodded.
I held my hand out in front of her, hoping
she was just take it. Instead she shoved her hands deep in the
pockets of her dark jeans and followed Mike to the truck. I was not
defeated, reaching into my own pocket, and taking a long swig from
the tiny silver flask. I swirled the liquid around my tongue,
relishing in the taste and basking in the confidence it gave me. I
took another drink before catching up, glad I had another bottle
under the seat.
I passed the flask to Mike, who enjoyed the
remaining shot. Jo Jo sat in the middle, the heat of her body felt
good against the cold outside. I reached for the full bottle under
my feet, drank, and passed it to her. She shook her head with a
Vivien Leigh like look of disgust. I wasn't offended as I passed it
to Mike instead, who drank hungrily. I actually liked that she
didn't drink.
    I smiled as we pulled
away. She will see things my way. I know
she will. She has to, I told myself as we
drove down the street, taking another long guzzle of liquid
courage.

 
     
     
22
     
I should have just cut myself right there
on the pavement that night before any of this shit ever happened. I
should have just stuck to the first plan and offed myself, going
out in a blaze of glory, on my own goddamn terms. Even then, I
guess I might have still wound up in Hell.
    Fucking, Moron, of course I would have ended up here. Heaven was
never meant for me.
The angry but smiling face is back again in
the mirror, watching me decay from the inside. My skin is dripping
off with stomach churning precision, landing with disgusting splats
on my dirty shoes. I wait. I know it won't be long before my lady
killer face has melted into a pile at my feet. I actually decide to
watch this time.
My eye sockets darken as the peachy flesh
fades away. My face is always the last to change, but the hardest
to watch. The claws that used to be my hands grow impatient and
finish the job, ripping the remaining skin off in rubbery chunks.
My pearly whites crack and break, shattering into tiny specks,
leaving only jagged razors in their wake.
I stare remorsefully at the gaping bullet
wound in my forehead. The blood that crawls out of that cavern
never stops flowing. I feel tears welling in my eyes, but see
nothing of sadness in my reflection. The demon I am is the only
thing that stares back at me.
I know it's just an illusion. A rather