Chapter 144: A Little Death Pact
Hellen peeled off her bloody gloves slow with wet snaps, tossing them into a rusted basin before grabbing a spray bottle of harsh disinfectant.
The hissing chemical fog thick over the room in wide arcs, stinging fumes mixing with rot and copper to choke the air white as she wiped down every surface methodically—bed frame dripping red, tool tray gleaming fresh, floor slick with gore.
She hefted a bone saw from the tray next—whirring electric bite through Viktor’s cooling corpse deliberate section by section—limbs hacked free at joints with gristly cracks, torso split midriff, head lopped final with a wet thud.
Bagging chunks heavy in thick black plastic, double-tied airtight before dumping the load into a massive 55-gallon industrial drum already brimming caustic sulfuric acid mix, thick bubbles foaming violent as flesh hit, dissolving started instant with acrid steam rising.
She sealed the lid clamp-tight, wheeled it rumbling to a shadowed corner, and strode out casual—door clanging shut behind.
Hellen shoved the heavy door open full force with a metallic groan, nearly colliding chest-first with Reyes planted solid in the dim hallway.
Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, cedar-steel scent rolling thick and tense under the buzzing fluorescents overhead, her eyes locked sharp and unblinking on the fresh crimson splatters streaking Hellen’s-stained plastic apron.
"Are you some kind of serial killer now—stacking bodies high like sick trophies in your private gallery?" Reyes asked flat and cold, her jaw clenched hard enough to tick muscle under skin, voice edged raw accusation.
"Serial killers slaughter random strangers for kicks—no motive, just mindless itch to fill. Me? I kill precise every time, always pure reason driving the blade," Hellen replied smooth as silk, wiping a stray blood fleck from her cheek casual with the back of her gloved hand, leaving a faint red smear.
"I’ve heard everything through these thin walls—every twisted word, every scream you carved out. Was this whole slaughter for revenge burning hot, or straight for Emily’s sake?" Reyes pressed harder, stepping half-forward invasive.
"It was for Emily—end of story. I had abandoned all those old revenge thoughts clean long ago, the day her soft emerald eyes first hit mine. It died right there, buried deep within me," Hellen said firm, honey-citrus scent blooming faint satisfaction.
"But you still got your sweet vengeance too—nice little side win plated up," Reyes pushed wary, gold flicker dancing dangerous in her irises.
"Main course served perfect and steaming for her justice, revenge just the bonus side dish to savour slow," Hellen shrugged light and loose, lips quirking up in a satisfied half-smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
"You’re awfully damn happy about all this carnage—practically glowing with it, like you just won the lottery."
"I am—justice tastes so goddamn sweet after stewing bitter for years on end."
Reyes snarled low and feral, lips peeling back slow over teeth. "Tch! Proves you’re unfit for Emily—monster carved straight through to the bone."
"Same shit applies double to you. Bet you’ve stacked your own hidden graves deep. Forgot the real dirt on your court-martial already? That bloody ’incident’ you buried under medals and lies?"
Reyes stiffened like struck, eyes narrowing to lethal blades, cedar-steel spiking sharp offense. "You sure know how to stab straight for the weak spot—twist the knife deep too."
"You play that exact same game flawless, don’t pretend otherwise," Hellen shot back even and cool, unflinching stare.
"Fuck it all straight—what about Elena then? She next up on your bloody list?"
"Ivory’s handling her smooth as silk right now—Captain’s got the golden touch for prying squeaky clean confessions without breaking a sweat."
"You are complimenting her."
"Well, she gave me Viktor, didn’t she?"
Reyes nodded once sharp, her glance sliding slow to the sealed industrial drum in the corner—faint acidic bubbles popping audible inside, corrosive fumes seeping thin. "And the body itself? Any kind of evidence trail left dangling?"
"He—and whatever sludgy scraps survive the acid feast churning in there—vanish total by dawn. Gone clean like smoke in wind, no trace, no questions, no ghosts haunting later."
"What do you honestly think’s gonna happen to Emily after this whole therapy cocktail hits full?" Reyes asked low and real, leaning back against the grimy hallway wall with her arms crossed loose now, cedar-steel scent easing curious under the steady buzz of distant noise.
"Well, simple—she blooms into an even more stunning omega, all curves soft and lush, scent pulling like gravity. I’ll claim her proper as my wife, build our life solid. And yeah, she’ll give birth to at least 11 kids—healthy, our legacy running wild," Hellen answered matter-of-fact calm, shrugging one shoulder as she peeled the crusted apron off slow, balling it neat in her fist.
"11 kids? Are you straight-up mad or just dreaming too big?" Reyes shot back half-laughing incredulous, eyes popping wide as she pushed off the wall straight.
"Hey, what about your grand plan then—spill your number," Hellen pressed even, tossing the apron into a nearby biohazard bin with a thud, arms folding mirror to Reyes.
"Seven pups max—solid litter, enough to fill a house with noise and strength, no more no less," Reyes replied quick firm, chin lifting a touch defensive pride.
"You’re equally nuts off your rocker, you know that right?" Hellen chuckled low and easy, shaking her head amused. "But you forgot one thing."
"What?"
"She will choose me."
"Tch! End of story—she ends up my wife, ring and all. We fit perfect," Reyes snarled light playful-growl, stepping one pace closer like staking ground.
"Again, with that tired line? Nah—Emily chooses me hands down, always has from day one," Hellen countered smooth confident, honey-citrus scent blooming with challenge.
Reyes snorted sharp, rolling her eyes but smirking corner. "Dream on—she’s got that soft spot for my steady type, the protector who doesn’t flinch. You’ll scare her off with your edge."
"Scare? Please—that’s what hooks her deep, my fire matching hers. You’re an idiot, Reyes—boring vanilla for a dominant omega like her post-therapy," Hellen fired easy grin, leaning casual hip to wall.
"Boring? I am the best for her— that’s not vanilla, that’s real. She needs my calm to balance your chaos storm," Reyes pushed back steady, cedar-steel sharpening just a hair.
"Balance? She craves the storm, the obsession that owns her full—you’re side support at best. Watch her nest call my name first," Hellen teased light, but eyes glinted serious under it.
"Fine—let her wake up groggy and pick clear. Loser backs off clean, no drama?" Reyes proposed half-serious, one eyebrow cocked high as she leaned in closer, cedar-steel scent sharpening playful edge. "You know what I mean right—no stalking, no schemes, full hands-off?"
"Deal sealed tight. But you’ll choke on those cocky words when she bolts straight to me first, arms open," Hellen agreed quick and firm, lips curving into a winner’s smirk sharp, honey-citrus blooming confident spark. "And at the end? I’ll kill you slow if it comes to that—no hard feelings."
Reyes barked a short laugh, gold eyes flashing amused but wary. "What about Ivory then—where’s she fit in this little death pact?"
"She’s an idiot too, same as us—chasing dreams too big," Hellen shrugged easy, wiping her hands clean on her jeans casual.
"So the winner offs her too? No mercy for third place?" Reyes pressed, crossing arms tighter with a smirk tugging corner.
"Of course—clean sweep. Emily picks one, the rest vanish quiet. Keeps it simple for her," Hellen replied smooth dark, eyes glinting unblinking promise under the hall lights.
