I think I should be frightened that looking at my ex tied to the wooden crucifix post, her white shirt now a sea of blood, doesn't invoke disgust me or make me question what the fuck is happening.

But I'm not. Twirling the small knife in my hand, I watch the shadows from the circle of candles dance across her pale face like tiny monsters, illuminating the sweat sliding down her chin.

This is who I am now. It's already too late to turn back.

"Are you ready, Quinn?" Floral asks, her voice deep, firm, gripping onto my brain like a vice.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Q-Quinn?" A barely audible, weak voice ensues from Julia as she starts to stir. Ah about time.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty," I sing in the same way as she did when she was chasing me.

"Quinn?" Julia's voice raises a higher pitch as she starts to struggle within her bonds. "Quinn, what the fuck? Let me go!" Her terrified eyes land on me and then dart around at the hooded figures standing beside me. "Quinn, babydoll, come on–"

"Oh shut the fuck up. You were going to kill me so you don't even have the right to open your mouth."

"I was trying to save you–"

"Oh fucking bullshit!" With a snarl, I throw the knife at her. She screams, jerking her head to the side as the blade lodges in the post several inches from her head. "What do I look like, huh? Fucking stupid?"

"Please, baby, you have to understand, this industry, look at what it's doing to you!" She implores, tears streaming down her face as she tries to adjust herself, blood dripping from where I stabbed her.

"What it's doing to me? What about you? Huh?" I walk up to her and yank out the knife from the post. "I mean, for real, a young girl? Fucking hell, Julia."

Her chest rises up and down as she takes labored breathes, her body trembling as I trace the tip of the blade along her jaw. "Remember what you told me earlier? That I'm selfish, validation-seeking, blah blah blah? Well, news flash, you're just the same as me. We both crave the validation we get, so much that we will sacrifice parts of ourselves just to experience that brief dopamine." A low, deep chuckle escapes me. "And fuck me if that's not worth it. Because I–" I lean closer until our lips barely touch and exhale, "fucking love it."

Removing the blade from her jaw, I lean back and tilt my head to the side to observe her weak struggles. Fuck, the power I feel surging over me, to be the one in control instead of her, it sends a thrill through me so intense I could fucking moan from the sensation alone.

This is better than even sex itself.

Then malevolent laughter erupts from Julia, low at first, then increasing in volume as the flames from the candles bend inward despite us being indoors and no wind.

"You fucking psycho cunt," she spits out, traces of blood splattering on my face. "You don't know what you're getting into. For now you may be enough, but once you get one wrinkle on your face and your skin starts to sag, you'll be discarded like garbage and replaced with the next pretty young thing."

I tut. "Well, thanks to you, I might have found my cure." I grip her hair, tight, and, yanking her head back, run the tip of my tongue along the salty, tangy trail of sweat and blood up her bobbing throat until I reach her bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw fresh blood.

"You still have a choice, Quinn. It's not too late–"

"I already made my choice. And I'm willing to pay the price."

She opens her mouth to say something when I slam my lips on hers, my tongue thrusting in deep as I tighten my grip on the knife.

And slice her throat.

She gurgles, small red bubbles joining the stream of crimson blood flowing out of her severed esophagus. I close my eyes, inhaling the scent, deep, slow, before latching my mouth into the seam, the coppery sweet taste of a superstar flooding every cell in my body.

"Very well done, Quinn," Jensen Hickley says behind me, with affirmations following from the other superstars around me who have joined to witness my initiation. "Welcome to the family."

There's no going back. Not if I even wanted to. 

With a content sigh, I sit back and, closing my eyes, bathe my face in Julia's blood. I was told that this is how respect to the sacrificed is gifted, because that's exactly what she is. A sacrificial cunt.

I finally broke free from Julia's shadow that has kept me in the dark for so long, groveling blindly behind the scenes with no sign of permanent light. 

I might have gotten myself chained to the devil instead, but none of us are free. Not on this planet. We're all chained to something. All that matters is what, who, and where we choose. If it feels right.

And this... fuck me, this feels amazing.