Chapter 67: _The Beauty Of Death
(Warning: Disturbing scene and gore ahead!)
Marcellus POV
*****
As he waited for Cullen to come back into the house with the pack doctor’s wife, he made himself comfortable by sitting on a couch, crossing one leg on top of the other.
He tilted his head, watching as the pack doctor, now a whimpering abomination, twitched occasionally on the floor, blood oozing out from his mouth and the obvious gash on his stomach.
"Ugh. And now you’re bleeding all over my floor." Marcellus said with a roll of his eyes before he snapped his fingers.
That caused a bottle of vodka from the dining table to levitate and then float to him, as well as a glass. He poured himself a drink, ignoring the pained whimpers of the man on his floor.
"You poor thing..." Marcellus remarked, clicking his tongue before he shook his head. "I... Can’t relate to the pain you’re feeling. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t plan on giving your wife a slow death. And I’m only doing this because it adds some fun to the killing."
He decided to stand up, taking a sip from the drink in his hand before he continued. "I mean, I honestly don’t care though. I could kill you now and put you out of your misery. But I don’t know how to explain it... I’ve always felt emotions differently. Sometimes I question if I have emotions at all."
He squatted to the level of the pack doctor who groaned weakly as his blood oozed out of him like a pool.
Marcellus tilted his head, squinting his eyes before sighing. "What I do know is that I’m good at faking. Like... Really good at faking stuff. I’ve tried so many things to seek some sliver of joy or sadness or anything at all. However, the only thing I think I can feel is the thrill..."