The Nine- A Slipknot Story

Chapter 9

"Ah, it feels good to have-"

Corey walks in and I open my eyes, his face making me smile. His eyes are wide and his mouth's handing open. He looks at my neck and stays there, just like that. I stand up and see Paul's brass knuckles beside me, so I take them and walk to Corey. I put the knuckles on and grab Corey's jaw, making him look at me.

"You deserve this," I say, letting go and reeling back my fist. 

I use most of my force and punch Corey in the jaw, knocking him out cold. I take the knuckles off and drop them in front of his face, his mouth bleeding from the force. I walk back to the two and sit down, leaning on Sid again. That felt good.

-Corey's POV-

I walk into the girl's house and wander around, finding her bedroom and seeing so many things. There's geodes, books, plushies, a lot of sweatshirts, a lot of leggings, a couple voodoo dolls with pins in them and a black trunk. It's secured with a lock, but since I'm a demon, I open it anyway. I open it and see candles, chalk, a knife and a small chest in the middle.

'Is she demonic,' I think, opening the small chest. 

What I expected was a lock of hair to possess a voodoo doll, but I was so very wrong. It's a heart preserved in a layer of rosemary extract to keep it good. Or from it not smelling like something died in the chest and trunk. I stare at it and it beats, making my heart speed up.

"Oh god," I say, closing both and teleporting to the front door. 

I hear the two teleport into the living room, giving me the chance to teach them a lesson on betraying me. I walk in and say a few words, looking at them. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open as I see her leaning on Sid's shoulder, her eyes open and looking at me. 

I couldn't do or say anything, her eyes were a paralyzer. I look down to her neck and see it's wrapped in a bandage, a slight bit of blood staining it. She stands and grabs Paul's brass knuckles, my mind trying to get me to move. But I couldn't. She walks to me and grabs my jaw, making me look at her piercing grey eyes.

"You deserve this," she says, punching me in the jaw. I get knocked out cold, falling onto my side. I guess I did deserve that, but my god, did she have to knock me out?

---time skip---

-Mia's POV-

I must've fallen asleep, because I wake up and I'm in my bed. I sit up and prop myself up with my hands behind me, seeing Sid sitting in the floor. He's leaning against the wall with his hand between his head and the wall, his knees brought up to his chest and his other arm resting across his knees. 

I look around and Joey's in an odd position in a little nook beside the door. He has his feet up on the wall, his knees bent at a 90 degree angle, his back slightly bend towards his neck and his head propped up on the bookshelf by the door. One arm's resting on his stomach, while the other's resting on the floor beside him.

I swing my feet over the bed and stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed for support. I walk over to the door and open it, silently walking down the stairs to the living room. I see Corey still on the floor, and I walk over to him. I sit on my knees in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly. He groans and opens his eyes, slowly looking up to my eyes. Black blood's dried onto his mask and mouth, but none on the floor.

"Whatever you're going to say, yes it fucking hurts to talk," he says.

"Then don't talk," I say, helping him up. His jaw's turned slightly to the left, so I put a hand up to it. He leans back and shakes his head, making me grab the metal grommet on his shirt and pull him to me.

"If you move, it'll hurt worse," I say, grabbing his jaw and adjusting it to its original place. He puts his hands to his jaw and moves it, testing it.

"Thanks. You're not so bad," he says.

"Unlike you. If you're out for blood, go hunting," I say, him raising his hand and opening his mouth.

"And no, not humans," I say, sitting on the couch in the middle. He drops his hand and closes his mouth, walking to the couch and standing beside me. I reach up and grab his shirt, pulling him down to the couch beside me.

"Why are you not trying to kill me," I ask, making him grin.

"I saw the trunk. You're not who I thought you were," he says.

"You what," I ask, turning to him and silently grabbing my knife.

"Oh fuck," he says. I jump on him and pin him to the couch, putting the knife to his throat.

"You didn't touch the heart, did you," I ask.

"I opened the box, but I didn't touch it," he says, his eyes wide and full of fear.

"Was it beating," I ask, taking the knife off but still pinning him to the couch. 

I was in an odd position; my arm over his collarbone to keep him there, my hand holding the knife at the ready, my other arm holding his arm down and my knees on his hips, basically straddling him. I was sitting on his lower thighs, right above his knees.

"Yes, it was," he says, fear slowly going away.