[#] You can join my discord server:discord.gg/52MmzuEQhR
[#] As always, Ko-fi subscribers have access to 5 chapters ahead, plans start at 1 dollar.
COMMENTS:
Dunadario[wattpad]:
Quem é a terceira vítima?
Avip:
No spoilers…
-----Chapter Cover--------
[Carlie]
The night rolls on in a blur of laughter, clinking glasses, and playful toasts. The table is crowded with dishes, grilled meats, roasted veggies, baskets of warm bread. Edith, the center of our celebration, sits at the head with a smile that won't fade, her face lit up with pride and happiness. Marcus keeps everyone entertained with his stories, and Drika, our hyena waitress, makes sure no glass stays empty for long.
As the hours slip away, Edith begins to wilt, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She leans over to me, her voice soft.
"Carlie, I need to go. I have to work early tomorrow."
I nod, understanding. The celebration loses its luster without the guest of honor. I expect Marcus to suggest we all leave. But he's deep in conversation with Drika, a fresh tankard of beer foaming in his hand.
"Marcus is still in party mode." Edith chuckles. "Can you stay and keep an eye on him? Make sure he doesn't do anything too crazy?"
I hesitate, but then I nod.
"Of course, Edith. I'll keep him in line."
Edith smiles, grateful, before saying her goodbyes and slipping out the door. I turn my attention back to Marcus, watching as he downs another tankard. His tolerance for alcohol is astonishing, but even he has his limits.
Marcus's laughter echoes through the room, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and intoxication. He's been downing tankards like water, and I've been keeping count.
When he was nine tankards in, he started to slur his words, his gestures becoming more exaggerated. By the twelfth, he's laughing at everything, his joy infectious but tinged with the unmistakable signs of drunkenness.
"Marcus, maybe you should slow down," I suggest, but he waves me off, a grin splitting his face.
"Nonsense, Carlie! I'm just getting started."
By the seventeenth tankard, he's completely gone, his words a jumbled mess, his movements clumsy. He knocks over an empty tankard, laughing at the sound it makes as it rolls across the table.
Marcus leans heavily on the table, his breath ragged. The sudden shift in his demeanor catches me off guard. One moment he's laughing, and the next he looks like he's about to fall asleep.
"Marcus, are you okay?" I ask, concern lacing my voice.
Instead of answering, he looks up at me, his eyes glassy but serious.
"Carlie…" he starts, his tone strangely serious. "Do you understand that I almost killed your mother?"
My eyes widen, shock rooting me to the spot with the sudden change of topic.
"Y-You were just trying to scare her," I stammer. "To make her accept me back. You wouldn't have-."
Marcus cuts me off, his voice eerily sober for someone so deep in his cups.
"I would have, Carlie. I could've ended her life right then and there, and I wouldn't feel an ounce of remorse afterwards."
"But you didn't," I whisper. "You showed her mercy. You were just fired up from the fight.."
"She lives because of you, If you hadn't stepped in," he says, cold and certain, "I would've caved in your mother's skull without a second thought."
Marcus pushes himself up from the table, swaying slightly before steadying himself with a heavy sigh. He looks at me, his eyes filled with a kind of hurt I've never seen in him before.
"You need to understand, Carlie…" Marcus starts in a somber tone. "I would have killed her. Not out of rage from the fight, , not even for your sake..."
I blink, confusion furrowing my brow.
"Why, then?"
His gaze drops to the table, his finger slowly tracing the grain of the wood.
"Envy."
"Envy?" I echo, the words strange and heavy on my tongue.
He nods, his voice a low rumble, thick with remorse.
"I had a family, Carlie. Friends too. I lost them all… not just once, but twice."
A lump rises in my throat. This is a side of Marcus I've never seen before, so vulnerable, and raw.
"That ungrateful fucking bitch, Shì Hún!" he explodes, slamming the table with his fist. "She has you, an amazing daughter, alive, strong, everything a parent could ever want and more, and that miserable old hag tossed you aside like garbage! Over some pathetic, bullshit excuse!"
His hands clench into fists, knuckles whitening.
"It stirred up so much hate in my jealousy. All that rage, and I aimed at her."
"It twisted inside me… this jealousy, this hate. All that rage, all that fury, it didn't stay contained, it spilled over, and I aimed it at her. I wanted to hurt her, to punish her for having what I'd lost and could never get back, for treating something as precious as family like it meant nothing."
I reach out, covering his fist with my hand. His skin is warm, his pulse throbbing beneath my touch.
"Marcus..." I start, but words fail me.
He looks up, his eyes meeting mine. There's a depth of pain there that makes my chest ache.
"I wanted to do something Carlie. I wanted her to feel the same pain that was eating me alive."
His voice cracks, and he looks down in shame.
I want so badly to say something, anything that might reach Marcus, but the words just won't come. My mind scrambles for meaning, for some kind of comfort, but all I find is silence. I take a shaky breath, ready to try again, when the VIP room door creaks open, slicing through the moment and dragging me out of it.
Drika enters, arms laden with more beer and platters of steaming steaks. Marcus greets her with a loud, boisterous declaration.
"Drika, I love you!"
Drika stops in her tracks, her eyes widening in surprise. A flush creeps up her cheeks, and she looks away, embarrassed.
"Oh… you're such a drunken asshole, Marcus," she mutters, setting the food and drinks down on the table.
"Took a lot, but he finally made it," I say, a small smile playing on my lips. "Seventeen tankards."
"For real?" the hyena asks as I nod to confirm. "Damn… each one of these is 500 ml(16.9 fl oz) so in total is like…"
"Eight and a half liters(287.4 fl oz)." I say shyly.
"I know how to count," Drika snaps, embarrassed for taking so long on something so simple.
Drika sighs, running a hand through her hair.
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but your tab's getting pretty high."
Marcus, in his drunken stupor, grins and pulls out a wad of cash. He peels off a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and tosses them onto the table.
"Here, this should cover it, the change is your tip."
Drika whistles, impressed.
"Damn, Marcus. I didn't know you were loaded."
Marcus grins, slow and lazy.
"I'm fucking awesome, Drika. Absolutely fucking awesome."
He turns to me, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"You know how Drika and I met, Carlie?"
Drika freezes, her body going rigid. She leans in, her voice a desperate plea.
"Marcus, don't-."
I cut her off, putting the pieces together.
"You tried to mug Edith, didn't you? And Marcus stopped you."
Marcus's grin widens, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Oh, Carlie, you don't know the half of it. I slapped the bitch out of her after the mug attempt."
Drika's hands fly up, her voice a panicked shout.
"Marcus, shut up!"
He ignores her, plowing on.
"And then, she tried to hit on me at the Femboy Hooters like a sex offender-."
Drika's face contorts with fury.
"Shut the fuck up!" The hyena shouts. "Worthless male!"
Her voice echoes through the room, sharp and angry. But her fury turns to ice as a shadow falls over her. Clarabella stands in the doorway, her expression dark.
"Oh no…" Drika whimpers, realizing she heard every word.
Drika's eyes widen, fear replacing the anger. She steps back, her hands dropping to her sides. Clarabella towers over Drika, her eyes flashing with fury.
"Drianna Escobar, how dare you raise your voice to a master." The cow goth maid keeps her expression professional, but I can see that she is tense, containing the fury inside her. "Let alone my dear Marcus-sama?"
Marcus, oblivious to the tension, lets out a loud, drunken belch. Drika's eyes well up, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Clarabella. I didn't mean to… I won't do it again, I swear."
Clarabella's expression doesn't soften.
"It's nothing personal, Drika. But I can't have staff members mistreating customers. You're fired."
Drika's face crumples, her body shaking with sobs. But before Clarabella can say anything else, something launches over the table, landing on Drika's back.
I leap to my feet, eyes wide as who perches on Drika's shoulders.
Marcus lands on Drika's back, his arms draped around her neck like a drunken monkey. He nuzzles his cheek against hers, his words slurred but genuine.
"Clarabella… don' fire Drika," he whispers over the hyena's shoulder. "She's a good girl… she jus'… jus' had a bad moment."
Clarabella's expression softens, but her voice remains firm.
"Marcus-sama, I appreciate your kindness, but Drika's behavior was unacceptable. I can't risk having someone so volatile on my staff."
Marcus's grip tightens, his voice taking on a tone of a whiny kid.
"C'mon…," he pleads, but Clarabella doesn't budge. "If you don' fire her, I'll… I'll go on a date w'you."
"Deal!" Clarabella says quickly, a sly smile playing on her lips.
Drika's eyes widen, shock and gratitude warring in them. She turns to Marcus, her voice a choked whisper.
"Marcus, you don't have to do this. I can find another job."
Marcus shakes his head, his grip on her tightening.
"No, Drika… you're stayin' here. And I'm… I'm goin' on a date with… mommy goth cowgirl," he slurs, his grin wicked and eyes glinting with mischief.
Clarabella claps her hands, delighted.
"Wonderful! I'll make the arrangements. And Drika, consider this your second chance and last chance." Her tone changes to ice cold as she stares at the Hyena. "Don't you waste it."
Drika nods, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"I won't, I promise."
Clarabella then turns on her heel, sauntering out of the room. Marcus slides off Drika's back, almost falling when he lands on the floor. He grins up at her, his eyes glassy but triumphant.
Drika looks down at him, her expression soft.
"Marcus, thank you. I... I don't know what to say."
Marcus waves a hand, dismissive.
I watch the exchange, a warmth spreading through me. Marcus, despite his drunken state, his golden heart never fails to shine. It's kind of... endearing.
Marcus struggles to his feet, swaying slightly. He looks around the room, his brow furrowing.
"Where's Edith?"
"By the goddess Marcus," the hyena sighs tiredly.
I step forward, placing a hand on his arm.
"She went home, Marcus. She has work tomorrow."
"Oooh, right." He responds, becoming slightly sad.
With the bill settled and my concern for Marcus beeing to drunk, I place a hand on his shoulder. His muscles tense beneath my touch, but he doesn't pull away.
"It's time to go home." I say to him.
He nods, fatigue etched into every line of his face. His usual vibrancy is muted, his movements sluggish as he slides out of the booth. I wrap an arm around his waist, steadying him as we make our way to the exit.
Drika watches us, her expression a mix of gratitude and worry.
"You gonna be okay with him, Carlie?"
"Yeah, I've got him." I nod, offering her a small smile."You good here?"
Drika glances down to the payment and chuckles.
"Yeah, I'll be fine." The hyena replies, laughing proudly."And Marcus... thank you."
Marcus grunts, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"S'what friends do, Drika… don' mention it," he slurs, voice wobbling slightly.
We step out into the cool night air, the bustling city streets surprisingly quiet. Marcus leans heavily on me, his breaths deep and even.
"Do you have Edith's address?" I ask the drunken human leaning against me. "Should I call a taxi or just use a ride app?"
Marcus responds with a shrug, unsure of the answer.
"Stop messing around, Marcus," I say, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. "If you don't know her address, how do you always get home?"
"Magic."
"Then you can-."
"Too drunk for magic."
"Damn."
"And I already tried calling Edith," he says, showing me his phone. "It's off."
"Oh no..."
"'Ve you noticed… how I get a lotta things just by offerin' dates?" Marcus slurs, swaying slightly. "Is this… is this how hot girls feel all the time back in my… my original world? Kinda… cool, and kinda scary…"
"Please, Marcus," I groan, annoyed. "I need to focus on what to do now."
"I… I wonder what the, uh… equivalent in this world… of those hot girls who… who go on old guys' boats is…"
"Marcus, we need to get home."
"Imagine if I… I'd offered my… my dick-."
"MARCUS!"
[Edith]
I stretch out in bed, limbs sliding against cool sheets. A yawn splits my face, teeth bared, eyes squeezed shut. My body's languid, muscles loose, and there's none of the usual tension knotting my shoulders. I blink away sleep, staring up at the ceiling. It's strange, this absence of urgency. No immediate problems to solve, no worries gnawing at the edges of my mind.
Just... peace.
A quick glance at my watch shows I still have forty minutes until my alarm goes off.
Rolling onto my side, I hug my pillow close, a grin tugging at my lips. I feel good, really, truly good. I feel like I could take on the world, or at least my little corner of it. My mind is clear, thoughts free from the constant hum of anxiety.
"It's amazing what a decent night's sleep can do for the mind." I mutter relaxed to myself.
When the alarm blares, its shrill beeping barely dents my bubble of early-morning calm. I reach out and silence it with a lazy slap, then roll out of bed. My feet touch the cool floor as I stand and stretch toward the ceiling. A series of pops runs down my spine, and I groan, eyes fluttering shut.
"Damn, that feels good."
Padding to the bathroom, I brush my teeth, the minty freshness zinging through my mouth. I splash water on my face, blinking away droplets as I stare at my reflection. The usual dark circles under my eyes have faded, the gray pallor of my fur replaced with a healthy silver.
I look... alive.
Bounding down the stairs, I flick on the coffee maker, humming under my breath as it gurgles to life. The scent of fresh brew fills the kitchen, and I inhale deeply, sighing contentedly. Even the morning air feels different, lighter somehow. Like the very atmosphere is attuned to my newfound zen.
Leaning against the counter, I sip my coffee, eyes closed in appreciation. It's hot and strong, just the way I like it. The caffeine jolts through my system, but instead of setting my nerves on edge, it amplifies my good mood.
I snag my phone from the counter, thumb tapping the power button. Nothing happens. The screen remains black, no reassuring glow of pixels sparking to life.
I frown, and try again, but still nothing.
"What the...?"
Then it hit me. I'd forgotten to charge it again.
A laugh bubbles up, sharp and sudden.
"I'm an engineer, for crying out loud. I deal with complex mechanical systems daily, yet I can't remember to plug in my damn phone." I say to myself shaking my head.
I connect it to the charger, grinning at my own forgetfulness.
Coffee mug in hand, I lean against the counter, sipping the hot brew while waiting for my phone to resurrect. It's strange, this quiet moment. No rush, no panic. Just me and my thoughts, the hum of the fridge a gentle accompaniment.
By the time my mug is empty, the phone's down to 17%. I hit the power button, and the screen flickers to life, its glow soft in the dim light. A ping sounds, announcing a new message.
"Marcus?"
I squint at the bright screen, reading Marcus's message aloud.
"Funy storry, me n carlie dnt kno ur adress an im 2 drunk 4 teleportashun majic sooo we're stayin at a hotell 2nite. see u tomorow... problyyy."
I set the phone down, brow furrowed.
"Marcus and Carlie stayed at a hotel last night? Together?" I mutter as my heart sinks, a leaden weight in my chest.
Images flash through my mind, unwanted and vivid. Marcus's strong hands on Carlie's curves, her lithe body pressed against his. Her lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded with desire.
"Stop it, Edith," I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. "You're being ridiculous."
But the worm of uncertainty has burrowed deep, gnawing at my insides. I hug my arms around myself, nails digging into flesh. The pain anchors me, keeps me from spiraling further into the dark abyss of my imagination.
"They probably just got separate rooms," I reason aloud, voice echoing in the empty kitchen. "Marcus was drunk, and Carlie... Carlie wouldn't... wouldn't her?"
-------------------------
E ai gurizada…
[#] I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you are interested, my Ko-Fi[avipbr] subscriber has access up to 5 chapters ahead:
Chapter 24 - First!
Chapter 25 - I'm a gentleman
Chapter 26 - We broke the bed
Chapter 27 - Challenge Accepted
Chapter 28 - The Yandere Strikes Back
[#] You can reach me on X/twitter, @AvipBr