The cold of the freezer was oppressive, almost suffocating, but Vincent hardly felt it. He was too consumed by what lay before him, too lost in the twisted logic that had led him to this point. The knife in his hand gleamed under the harsh fluorescent light, stained with the blood of the woman he had just killed-the woman Rody loved.
Manon’s lifeless body was splayed out on the stainless steel table, her limbs neatly separated, her once-vibrant eyes now glassy and dull. Vincent’s hands were shaking, but not from fear-no, this was something else entirely. He had killed her to prove something, to show Rody that he was the one who truly understood love, that his devotion was unmatched.
But as the reality of what he had done began to settle in, Vincent’s mind reeled with the gravity of it. He had crossed a line, one he could never return from, and the only thing that scared him more than that was Rody’s inevitable reaction. Rody, who had been his obsession, his desire, the one thing in this world that made him feel alive.
The sound of the freezer door opening was like a gunshot in the silence, and Vincent froze, his breath catching in his throat. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. He could feel Rody’s presence, the familiar warmth of him, but it was now tinged with an icy dread.
Slowly, Vincent turned to face him, his heart pounding in his chest. Rody stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as they took in the scene before him. He looked at Vincent first, then at the table where Manon’s body lay in pieces, her blood still fresh, still warm.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the low hum of the freezer, the cold air swirling around them. Vincent felt like he was suffocating, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a vise. This was it-Rody would hate him now, despise him, and that would be worse than any physical pain.
But Rody didn’t react the way Vincent had expected. There was no scream of horror, no rush of anger. Instead, Rody’s eyes darkened, and something shifted in his expression, something that sent a chill down Vincent’s spine.
With slow, deliberate steps, Rody walked towards him. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, but Vincent couldn’t move. He could only watch as Rody came closer, his eyes never leaving Vincent’s face.
When Rody stopped in front of him, Vincent flinched, expecting the worst-a punch, a scream, anything. But instead, Rody reached out and cupped Vincent’s face in his hand, his touch surprisingly gentle, despite the roughness of his skin. The blood smeared across Vincent’s cheek, mixing with the cold sweat that had broken out there.
“You did this for me, didn’t you?” Rody’s voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made Vincent’s heart skip a beat. It was a tone he had never heard from Rody before, dark and twisted, filled with something that could only be described as hunger.
Vincent’s breath hitched in his throat. “Rody, I-“
But Rody didn’t let him finish. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Vincent’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “You thought this would make me love you,” Rody murmured, his voice smooth and almost hypnotic. “That by taking away the one thing I cared about, you’d have me all to yourself.”
Vincent’s heart pounded in his chest, the realization of what he had done crashing down on him like a tidal wave. “I… I just… I didn’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice cracking with desperation. “I thought if I made her part of something… something beautiful, you’d see how much you mean to me.”
Rody’s smile twisted into something darker, something almost inhuman. He released Vincent’s face and stepped past him, moving towards the table where Manon’s body lay. For a moment, he just stared down at her, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out and picked up one of her severed arms, holding it with an almost reverent touch.
“You know,” Rody said, his voice conversational, as if they were discussing something mundane. “I’ve always wondered what she’d taste like.” He looked over at Vincent, his eyes glinting with something predatory, something that made Vincent’s blood run cold.
Vincent stared at him, horrified and transfixed. “What are you…?”
Rody didn’t answer. Instead, he brought the severed arm to his lips and took a slow, deliberate bite, tearing into the flesh with a sickening crunch. Blood dripped down his chin as he chewed, his eyes never leaving Vincent’s.
Vincent felt the bile rise in his throat, but he couldn’t look away. He watched in horror as Rody swallowed, licking his lips as if savoring the taste.
“Rody, stop,” Vincent choked out, his voice trembling. This wasn’t what he had wanted. This wasn’t what he had planned. But Rody-Rody was… enjoying this.
Rody looked at him, his eyes dark and wild, and smiled-a smile that was more a baring of teeth, a predator sizing up his prey. “Why should I stop, Vincent?” he asked, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of pleasure. “You’ve given me the perfect gift. You’ve shown me how much you care. So why not enjoy it?”
Vincent felt like he was going to be sick. He had killed Manon to prove his love to Rody, but now… now it was as if Rody had turned that love into something monstrous, something far beyond what Vincent had ever intended.
Rody took another bite, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he savored the taste. “She’s delicious, you know,” he said, his voice almost dreamy. “You’ve outdone yourself, Vincent.”
Vincent staggered back, his mind reeling. This wasn’t what he had wanted. He had wanted Rody to understand, to see his love for what it was. But now, standing here in this blood-soaked freezer, watching the man he loved devour the woman he had killed, Vincent realized just how wrong he had been.
He had unleashed something dark, something he couldn’t control. And as Rody continued to eat, his eyes glowing with a sick, twisted delight, Vincent knew that he had crossed a line he could never come back from.
Rody looked at him, his lips stained with blood, his smile wide and manic. “You did this for me,” he repeated, and there was something almost tender in his voice, something that made Vincent’s stomach churn with a twisted mix of horror and fascination. “And I’ll never forget it.”
Vincent’s hands trembled as he took a step back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He had thought he could control this, that he could prove his love through this act. But Rody… Rody had taken that love and twisted it into something dark, something terrifying.
And the worst part? Vincent couldn’t help but be drawn to it, drawn to the darkness that now consumed them both.
As Rody continued to feast on Manon’s body, Vincent felt a cold, sickening realization settle over him: he had created a monster. And that monster was the man he loved.
And now, there was no going back.
Vincent watched in horrified silence as Rody continued his grisly feast, the cold air of the freezer swirling around them. Rody’s movements were slow and deliberate, as if savoring every bite. The blood on his lips glistened under the harsh lights, and his eyes, once so familiar, now seemed to burn with a hunger that Vincent couldn’t comprehend.
But even in the midst of this horror, there was something unbearably tender about the way Rody looked at him. His smile was soft, his eyes filled with a twisted affection that sent chills down Vincent’s spine. It was as if Rody truly believed that this, all of this, was an expression of love.
Rody wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and stepped closer to Vincent. His hand reached out, gently brushing against Vincent’s cheek, leaving a smear of blood in its wake. “You’re trembling,” Rody murmured, his voice low and soothing, as if he were comforting a frightened child. “You don’t have to be afraid, Vincent. I know what you did, and I love you for it.”
Vincent’s breath hitched, and he found himself leaning into Rody’s touch, despite the horror gnawing at his insides. Rody’s warmth was a stark contrast to the freezing air, and Vincent was drawn to it, desperate for any sense of comfort, even as his mind screamed at him to run.
“I did this for you,” Vincent whispered, his voice trembling. “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, how far I’d go to make you happy.”
Rody’s smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against Vincent’s. “You’ve given me so much,” he murmured, his breath warm against Vincent’s skin. “No one’s ever loved me the way you do, Vincent. No one’s ever gone to such lengths for me.”
Vincent closed his eyes, letting himself be drawn into the warmth of Rody’s embrace. It felt wrong, all of it, but Rody’s touch was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the darkness that now enveloped them both.
Rody’s hands trailed down Vincent’s arms, his touch lingering, affectionate. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Rody whispered, his lips brushing against Vincent’s ear. “She’s gone. It’s just us now. Just you and me, the way it was always meant to be.”
Vincent shuddered, his emotions a twisted knot of fear, guilt, and something far darker that he couldn’t fully grasp. He had never wanted this-never wanted Rody to become this-but now, he was too far gone to stop it.
Rody pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Vincent’s face, and what Vincent saw in them sent a jolt of fear through his heart. Rody’s gaze was soft, tender even, but there was a darkness there, a hunger that went beyond mere physical desire. It was a need to consume, to possess completely, and Vincent knew that he was the next target of that hunger.
“Rody, please…” Vincent’s voice was a whisper, trembling with a fear he could no longer suppress. He wasn’t sure what he was begging for-for Rody to stop, or for him to continue. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and he couldn’t find the strength to pull away.
But Rody only smiled, a smile so filled with affection that it nearly broke Vincent’s heart. “Shh, it’s okay,” Rody murmured, pulling Vincent closer. “I won’t hurt you. I love you, Vincent. I love everything about you.”
He kissed Vincent then, his lips soft and warm despite the blood still smeared on them. Vincent felt his resistance crumbling, the horror of what was happening fading into the background as Rody’s kiss consumed him. It was gentle at first, but then it deepened, growing more fervent, more desperate, as if Rody wanted to devour him whole.
Vincent’s breath quickened, his hands clutching at Rody’s shirt as he lost himself in the kiss. The cold of the freezer seemed to vanish, replaced by the burning heat of Rody’s touch. It was overwhelming, suffocating, but Vincent couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
When Rody finally broke the kiss, his eyes were filled with that same dark hunger, and Vincent knew, in that moment, that he was lost. There was no escaping this. Rody had become something monstrous, and he had dragged Vincent down into the abyss with him.
“I love you, Vincent,” Rody whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. “And I want you to be a part of me. Forever.”
Vincent’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something-anything-but no words came. All he could do was stare into Rody’s eyes, those once-familiar eyes that now burned with an unholy light.
Rody’s hand moved to Vincent’s neck, his fingers tracing the pulse that beat there, and Vincent shivered at the touch. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Rody said, his voice soothing, as if he were comforting a frightened animal. “It’ll be quick, I promise. You won’t feel a thing.”
Vincent’s eyes widened in realization, and a surge of panic shot through him, but it was too late. Rody’s grip tightened, and before Vincent could react, he felt the sharp pain of teeth sinking into his flesh.
He gasped, the pain searing through him, but Rody held him close, whispering words of comfort even as he bit deeper. The warmth of Rody’s mouth was a grotesque parody of the affection Vincent had once craved, and as the darkness began to close in, Vincent’s thoughts became a jumbled mess of regret and terror.
He had done this. He had created this monster, and now it was devouring him, consuming him whole. The realization was a cold, brutal knife to his heart, but there was no escape, no redemption. This was his fate, the final, twisted chapter in the love story he had so desperately tried to write.
As the life drained out of him, Vincent’s last coherent thought was of Rody, of the man he had loved, the man he had tried so hard to win. And even as the darkness swallowed him, even as the pain faded into a numbing cold, there was a part of him that still wanted to believe that this-this horror-was love.
But as Rody continued to consume him, his touch now nothing more than a grotesque caress, Vincent realized with a sickening clarity that this was not love. It was something far darker, something that had taken root in the depths of their twisted bond.
And as the world faded to black, Vincent’s final breath was a choked whisper, a plea that would go unanswered.
“Rody… please…”
But Rody only smiled, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction as he devoured the last of what remained of Vincent.
In the cold, blood-soaked silence of the freezer, there was no love, no redemption-only the dark, twisted hunger that had consumed them both.
And when it was over, when there was nothing left of Vincent but the memory of his final, desperate plea, Rody stood alone in the cold, the taste of his lover still fresh on his lips, a dark smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
The world had gone quiet, but in that silence, Rody heard something-something that sounded almost like a heartbeat, steady and strong, as if the one he had consumed was still alive within him, still a part of him.
And as he licked the last traces of blood from his lips, Rody knew that he had won.
Vincent would be with him forever, just as he had promised.
And in the end, that was all that mattered.
Comment