Mikhail
I stand in the dark bedroom, watching Maria asleep in her bed. The moonlight creeps through a gap in the voluminous net curtains that descend from the ceiling. The weak light casts a pale glow on her face, emphasizing her serene expression.
All while the rage builds inside of me.
The only sound is her breathing—soft, gentle, and vulnerable. A wave of temptation seizes me.
I imagine her eyes snapping open in a panic, searching mine for forgiveness as she struggles, unable to break my grip. I imagine her pleading for her life but refusing to show her mercy. I recall the feeling of my fingers on her throat earlier as I f****d her mouth. And I once again imagine the life draining from her body until nothing is left but an empty shell.
I struggle with the hostile emotions that clas
