Joel Miller x Reader

Forty

For a moment, Abby remained sitting in the corner. Dazed by the blow to her face, mixed with the pain spreading through her bleeding nose, her head tilted to the side.

A deep, exhausted breath escaped her. As she coughed, thin threads of blood dripping from her chipped lips.

You grabbed a handful of her hair, reached out, and wanted to hit her again. The feeling of her bones breaking below your fingers made you feel a strange kind of joy.

But a sharp pain suddenly tore your flesh apart and made you cry out. Overwhelmed, you let go of her braid and stumbled back, one hand pressed to your side. Thick, red blood poured from between your fingers.

When you lifted your eyes you saw a grin on Abby's lips. Breathing heavily and with a smug expression on her face, she held the knife in her bloodied hand.

Your blood and hers mixed on the shimmering blade.

"I'm going to kill you just like I killed your parents.", she laughed, pulling herself up against the wall.

Her hand left bloody marks on the dirty white, painting a picture of hate and betrayal.

Inhaling sharply, you stretched your back and stood up to your full height.

You didn't want to give her the hope that she could wipe you out with a single stab. The wound burned like fire and blood was already dripping down your hip, but it was not a fatal injury.

It would be a hindrance in battle, but you hadn't come this far just to give up because of a minor inconvenience.

When Abby raised the knife, one hand still pressed against the wall for support, it was clear that the wounds had already brought her out of concept.

She was trembling, whether from pain or fear it was impossible to tell exactly.

Blood ran down her arms like rivers of red, over her fingertips and dripped onto the floor. Her body was already numb from the pain. She would not be able to fight properly, not even armed.

You, on the other hand, could feel the adrenaline racing through your veins. Your heart was beating like crazy.

The world around you was little more than a bubble wrapped around your head. All you could focus on was Abby.

The smell of iron and raw meat filled the air.

Groaning in pain, Abby swallowed hard, her eyes jumping through the room.

As her legs twitched you readied yourself to be attacked. But instead of leaping toward you, she fled to the side, over to the other end of the table.

You frowned in confusion and followed her.

She stumbled.

You caught her and threw yourself full force against the wall, Abby trapped in your arms.

A gasp escaped her as your weight pinned her between you and the wall, squeezing all the air from her lungs.
You thought you heard a crack.

Maybe it was her ribs.

Overwhelmed by the pain, she dropped the knife.

It fell to the floor with a clang.

You took a swing and hit her again. But this time she was faster, threw up her arms and returned the blow.

Gasping, you stumbled back as her fist hit your jaw. You bit your tongue so hard that the taste of blood filled your mouth. Your hands clawed at the table card as you collided with the desk and nearly lost your balance.

Abby threw herself to the ground, her hands searching for something in a panic as her eyes watched you spit and scream angrily.

Gripped by your rage, you wanted to jump at her again.
But Abby was more nimble than expected, pulling her head in and escaping your attack by a hair's breadth.

With a dull thud you fell to the ground. Your hand still reached for her verse, but she kicked back and caught your face.

Briefly, the world blurred before your eyes.

Nausea pinched your nose.

Abby fled back toward the door.

Amused, you had to laugh.

"Silly Abby.", you snickered and went to get up, but paused when your eyes fell on the knife still lying on the floor.

She hadn't grabbed the weapon when you attacked her. She had grabbed the key.

When you raised your eyes, you could see her desperately rattling the door. The key was already in the lock, but her fingers were shaking too much to use it.

Panic-stricken, she glanced over her shoulder.

Your eyes locked with hers.

"Abby!", you screamed and jumped up.

Your fingers wrapped around the knife. Two big steps and you buried your fingers in her hair. Gritting your teeth, you jerked her head back, the knife already raised to ram it into her eyes.

Screaming, she defended herself. Tears shimmered in the corners of her eyes.

For a short moment you hesitated.

Suddenly there was that feeling again, that sense of guilt that you didn't have to hate her. She had only been a stupid child who had obeyed her father.

Her fingers turned the key.

And in that very moment of hesitation, Abby managed to open the lock. She pushed open the door, jumped to her feet, and tore herself away.

Surprised by the force, you lost your grip in her hair, pulling out a few thick stands of the dirty blonde of hers.

Hastily, she rushed into the hallway, hit the wall opposite, and scrambled back up to run away. Her hand left a dark red mark on the wall.

For a moment you stared at it, this symbol of fear and pain.

Suddenly, compassion awoke in you.

The knife slipped from your hand, you could just hold it with your fingertips. But in the next moment the feeling had already disappeared again.

Dazed, you shook your aching head. The feeling of blood sticking to your skin brought you back to the present.

With a dark expression in your eyes, you lowered your head and followed the bloody trail that Abby had left behind on her escape.

"Fine then, you stupid bitch. Play your game, Abby...", you growled, letting your fingers dance through the lines of blood. "It will be your last."