CAPITULO I Men loves forced pleasure and that one woman has... no difference

Canon, Pauladine POV

You will die the most painful death.

A beautiful promise that was never kept.

I thought as I recalled her words through a whisper in my head. It was accompanied by a cold breeze that lightly touched my skin.

It was late at night and dark, but that did not matter. I carefully rubbed the knife with a white cloth to remove the red liquid that surrounded it.

When I was satisfied, I lifted the knife and let it sparkle in the moonlight.

I smiled.

I couldn't blame you, Mother. Shiny things are really pretty.

I smiled.

A smile that I can not tell if it's plain pretty or pretty scary. I can not see myself.

But back to the knife.

What a beautiful sight to behold. Later you will be messy again. I could imagine that it is covered with blood again.

"Silly." I chuckled and moved it slowly.

I wonder why.

Why do people create something beautiful yet deadly?

"What a stupid creativity." I whispered as I stared at it feeling amazed.

*thud*

A dull, calculated sound next to me startled me, but I did not bother to look at it. Judging by the smell, there was nothing scary about her.

Shes just a subordinate.

I angled my left leg and placed my left hand with the knife over it. I leaned my back down a little, with my left hand supporting my body, and played with the knife in my hand while I waited for the message.

I heard her panting at my side. The wind was cool here under the roof. It was so satisfying to look out among the people on the below and make up lies to attract the willing prey.

"A message from the mistress: from the district of Levithan. The place of pleasure. A noble duke has gone there, not for willing pleasure, but for forced. You must be there as soon as possible, or else his victims will increase."

Like a soap bubble that just appeared out of nowhere, it disappeared without a trace.

With my sudden anger, I immediately stood on top of the roof. The message suddenly awakened my desire to kill. My hand itched and I could not leave it like that. I must do something about it.

A slight shiver ran down my spine from the determination.

It was not the first time I'd felt the urge to kill a man. Since my sister's death, I have always hated men and their forced pleasure. Hearing plenty of whimpers, moans, and sounds of meeting bodies turning to grief, begging to be saved. When they pleaded for their lives, it was the most beautiful music I could hear. My eyes widened as they glowed with delight under the moon's red light.

I imagined how bloody it would get. An evil smile formed on my lips.

Oh God, that would be satisfying.