Parasite: To Kill A Supreme God Of War

Chapter 8

“And who the hell are you..”

Krazy moved in one fluid motion — a twist of the wrist, a sharp turn, and the man was on his knees, gasping for air, his arm locked behind him.

The entire bar went quiet.

Krazy’s tone never changed. “Walk away!”

"AHH!" The man cried out. Without a second thought, he scrambled to his feet, clutching his wrist and muttering curses, disappearing into the dark corner of the bar.

“You should go home.” He tells the lady.

“I will. My car is parked outside after all…” The lady staggered as she rose to her feet and Krazy could smell her drunken state from where he stood, “Thank you.” She said with a grateful smile.

He just nodded slightly, his eyes scanning her — not in the way men in bars usually did, but as if he was assessing her safety in her state.

The lady took two steps forward, but the room tilted in slow motion and before she could take another step, she lost balance but a strong arm caught her around the waist.

Craig steadied her effortlessly, pulling her upright, “Easy,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. She's badly drunk.

The air between them thickened, warm and still, her lashes fluttering as she tried to focus on him.

For a second, their eyes locked in— and it was as if the noise of the bar, the hum of conversations, even the world outside, fell away.

Something charged moved between them.

He looked away first, trying to step back, to break whatever pull was threading them together. He should leave but he felt rooted to the spot.

Her breath hitched as she stood close enough to feel his warmth. He just saved her twice.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes scanning him.

He gave a faint nod.

Her gaze flicked from his eyes… to his lips… She didn’t think.. Then her body went limp, the alcohol finally winning.

And before he could speak, she closed the space between them, her lips finding his in a deep, desperate kiss.

For a heartbeat, the world is still again.

Craig's eyes widened as he pulled back, his palm braced against her shoulder.

His voice was barely a whisper, raw with restraint. “Dude! I’m married.” He wiped his lips and was about to push her off when she suddenly jerked forward, throwing up and causing the warm liquid to splatter the floor between them.

She coughed twice — then she went utterly still and her eyes closed.

“Hey—” he started, but her weight collapsed on him. Did her body just give out on her? "Hey, wake up.."

The Next Morning...

Penny woke with a groan, her head pounding. Sunlight spilled through tall glass windows — not her apartment.

The bed beneath her was soft, the room spotless and minimal, smelling faintly of sandalwood. She sat up slowly, realizing she was wearing an oversized white shirt — clean, freshly laundered.

“What the…” she muttered, scanning the luxurious condo unit.

She narrowed her eyes when she saw a white note.

{Don't worry, I got a female staff member to change your dress because it was a mess.}

Just then, her eyes caught sight of a photo frame by the bedside table — the man from last night, dressed in a suit, standing beside a stunning woman. Wait.. is that a wedding gown?

Her breath hitched. “He’s married?”

Then memories from last night came flooding her head. The kiss! Shit! Shit! Shit!

She sank onto the edge of the bed, covering her face. “Oh my God, Penny, you idiot…”

The embarrassment burned through the fog of her hangover. She glanced around — no sign of him. He must’ve left her here.

She let out a shaky laugh. “It’s fine. South Rivers is big. I’ll probably never see him again.”

Meanwhile, Krazy had woken up quite early since it was his first day at work.

From the kitchen came the sharp rhythm of a knife striking wood.

He rose, shirt half-buttoned, and froze at the doorway. Adele stood there — hair tied back, a silk robe hugging her frame, face lit by the pale morning light. Her hand gripped the knife with surgical precision, each slice against the cutting board echoing with quiet violence.

Her eyes flicked up when she sensed him. For one long, unnerving second, her gaze held his — cold and dark.

For about a minute, her cold gaze didn't leave him. She didn't say a word, but the more she glared at him, the more her grip on the knife became tighter and never for once did she stop slicing.

Krazy stares at her and she stared back, but the silence while she was still cutting those peppers could give anyone the creeps.

“Adele?” Krazy broke the terrifying and dark silence between them as it seems his wife might have woken up in a bad mood. He couldn't explain it but it was almost unusual for her to wear that look.