Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Unease.
Lust.
Fear.
Hope.
He opens his mouth, to say what, I have no clue. He snaps it closed just as quick when I pull the switchblade out of my back pocket.
Pressing the tiny silver button, the blade ejects with a soft snick, and Vince’s eyes bug out of his head. “Nyssa… what the hell?”
I put the knife tip to his pudgy throat and glare at him. “What the hell? That’s all you have to say to me?”
“What should I say?” he retorts and tries to buck me off. It causes the blade to nick him, and I grin as a rivulet of blood runs down his pale skin. “I’d be careful, Vince. Wouldn’t want me to slip now, would you?”
He eyes me warily, body going still. I consider my options carefully. Never in a million years did I think our paths would cross again. Lifting the blade from his neck, I hold it up before me and run my finger along the edge. It slices my skin, attesting to its sharpness.
“What do you want from me?” Vince rasps.
My eyes travel slowly from the blade to his face, and I open up to let my emotions swell. I’ve been holding them back all night, and rage and fury now sweep through me. It burns like acid.
“I want you to die, Vince,” I say quietly.
He opens his mouth in protest, but his words are cut off as I lash out with the blade. It slices through his skin as if it were as frail as cotton candy, and I only know I hit the carotid by the spray of blood that hits me in the face.
I gasp and sputter as I spit it out of my mouth. I can feel it dripping down my forehead and cheeks as I watch Vince’s eyes bulge from their sockets. He gurgles and then chokes on his blood and I watch, transfixed, for what seems like hours.
It’s such a good show, I don’t want it to end.
When the light goes out of his eyes and his head lolls, I release a long sigh of relief. I roll off his body and stagger into the small bathroom. My reflection is hideous, my face covered in blood and my platinum hair stained pink. I smile and find even my teeth are covered with it. Makes sense since I had my mouth open when I made my strike.
I’m a monster, and I start to laugh.
Dropping the knife in the sink, I walk out of the bathroom. Well, walk isn’t quite the right word. I shuffle as if drunk or high, and maybe I am.
Euphoria coursing through me, I lurch out of my apartment and practically fall down the stairs. I push through the crowded bar, and a few people scream when they see me.
One man reaches out a tentative hand. “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I ask, then peals of laughter start again. The man jerks his hand back.
I push people out of my way as I head for the front door. When I reach it, Sam’s there, staring at me in horror. “Oh my god, Nyssa. What happened? Do you need an ambulance?”
I find that funny too. “No, Sam. Thank you. An ambulance is definitely not needed.”
Pushing through the door into Toledo’s summer heat, I’m vaguely aware of Sam and a few patrons following me out. I have no clue where I’m going, but I look left, then right. The streets are crowded with bar hoppers, people making wide arcs to clear a path as they take in my appearance. Across the street sits a waiting cab, and I’ve got some cash in my pocket.
A hand touches my arm, and I turn to see Sam. “Let me help you,” he says kindly.
I laugh again, then make myself stop to give him some respect. “No one can help me, Sam. I’m beyond help.”
“You’re not,” he insists.
I pull my arm free and start backing toward the curb. I keep my eyes pinned on Sam, trying to accept the sympathy in his gaze.
It bounces right off me.
“Fuck this,” I snarl, finally realizing I’m in deep shit. I just murdered a man. Spinning, I make to dart across the street for the cab. I need to put distance between me and the dead body upstairs. I ease off the curb and take no more than two steps before a horn draws my attention.
Twisting my head left, I gape at the city bus bearing down on me. I hear the shriek of brakes, people scream from the sidewalk, and then the bus slams into me. For the briefest of moments, I feel pain in every molecule of my body, and then it all goes black.
* * *
Unbearable heat is the first thing I register as consciousness returns. I open my eyes, clearly remembering the bus hitting me. I brace for what I know will be excruciating pain, but all I feel is stifling heat making my skin prickle.