Homecoming: The Devil's Society by Kinsley Kincaid

Author:Kinsley Kincaid [Kincaid, Kinsley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Author Kinsley Kincaid
Published: 2024-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

With dry, bloodied hands, I reach into the back seat and reach for the masks. They are made of a hard black material. Not at all flimsy like the ones I had gotten in Blackwood. Taking in my little bat, I place one in her lap. “Are you ready to play, little bat?”

Her hazel eyes shine at the question before looking down at what I had just given her.

The lights catch the dark cracks lining her face, my beautiful broken doll. She balances out my crazy and at times, matches it. Rubbing my hand down my own marked face, I let out a deep sigh still taking her in. All fucking mine.

Rain’s small hands lift it up as black ribbons hang from either side. Holding it to her face, she grips both thick pieces of fabric, bringing them around the back of her head and entwining them with her long dark hair, and ties it into a bow that matches the one already in her hair.

Mine is slightly different. Slipping it on, the leather strap, for which I pre-set the sizing, fits like a glove over my head.

Once both our masks are on, we look at each other once more. “I’m ready,” she answers my unspoken question. Her tone is hushed, my little bat is nervous. She should be. Not even I have been to one of these fucking things before. I’ve only heard stories while eavesdropping on my father and his friends before leaving here.

Getting out of the car, Rain follows suit. I reach back in for my bat before closing the car door behind me. Walking around to the trunk, I lift my boot-clad foot up and kick it a couple of times while shouting, “Wake the fuck up, Francesca!”

Only silence greets me.

Kicking it once more, I give her a chance to stop playing stupid with me. I wait a moment. Still nothing.

Dumb bitch.

Looking at the taillights, I swing my bat and smash both of them in quick succession. Come on, bitch, take the bait.

Pieces of broken colored plastic break off my car and go flying to the cobblestone driveway. Francesca still stays quiet. If she is hoping I will give up and walk away, she has another thing coming. I was built for the long fucking game. I revel in the hunt.

Next, I take my bat, swing it over my head while holding it with both hands and begin to beat the top of my aluminum trunk. With each swing, loud bangs echo around us as dents begin to decorate my car. But I couldn’t give a shit about the car. What’s inside it is my prize.

“Francesca.” Smash. “Wake up.” Smash. “Nap time is fucking over!” Smash.

A high-pitched but muffled scream erupts from within.

Smirking, I can feel her fear rippling along my skin. I taste it on my tongue as my taste buds take it all in. My favorite meal outside of Rain is this.

Torture and murder after playing with my prey.

Reaching in my pocket, I press the button on my key fob and the trunk pops open.

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