Itch by Riley Knox

Relentless itching so unbearable it lures you towards the gleaming edge of a blade, compelling you to embed it into your own flesh. Such a rapture surpasses even the ecstasy of sex, at least through Kai's fucked-up lens. And while fingers burrow into your skin with a fervor that leaves it inflamed, ambiguously damp, you find yourself questioning whether it's perspiration, blood, or some other unnameable residue clinging beneath your nails.