Delicate Pulse | Violentine

Extinguish ~ Part 2

The night could no longer escape the humidity and neither could I.

I wanted to wear a dark hoodie but I was too sweaty. My sweat would just seep through the hoodie and weigh me down. I needed to be able to run. I needed the energy to fight.

This was a stupid idea. Why the hell am I here?

I scan the environment around me. There are two exits, the overgrown grass to my left and the gravel path I scarcely wandered on to get here. There are a few cavities to hide in like barrels and dumpsters but who knows what could be living in them...

"I didn't think you would show up."

I freeze as a burly built body slanders towards me. His voice is deep and bitter. He smirks, his sly beady eyes peering down his crooked nose.

It's not like I wanted to meet him but I had no other options.

"I didn't take you as the sentimental type," he teases.

One minute in and he was already trying to hit a nerve. Typical. "What do you want, Mitch?"

He frowns and mutters, drawing back to a rusty double door. A decaying chain with a lock wrapped around the handles. I knew what it was and I knew where it led to. The school's basement.

Mitch suddenly juggles a key in his hand. Without hesitation, he swiftly unlocks and heaves one of the doors open. I find him looking back at me, expectantly. "Follow me."

Hell. No.

"I know you're a dumbass but I didn't think you were this dumb," I huff.

"What?"

"I'm not going down there with you."

He takes a step back with offence. "Woooooow, okay."

I swivel my heels and trudge away from him, scornfully. Of course, this was a waste of my fucking time.

He swears under his breath, grumbling. "Look, I'm not going to do shit. I'm trying to be the good guy for once."

"Right," I scoff, picking up my pace.

"You'll regret walking away," he calls, mockingly.

"Don't care," I snarl back.

"The red paint was just the beginning."

I slam the breaks, digging into the dirt. Red paint?

I can now hear a smile in his tone. "It was phase one of the plan."

I shoot venomous daggers at him. "What fucking plan?!"

"Phase two was pouring expired beans into your girlfriend's guitar," he snorts, clearly enjoying the torment.

My hands seize into fists. "You motherfucker-"

"You can stop me but you'll have to follow me," he retorts, drifting towards the abyss.

Any brain cells I had left were screaming no but his words were crushing my common sense. Why would he tell me about the red paint? Why?

"I'm not going to kill you or anything, dumbass," he groans, growing impatient. "I promise, okay? Now move it before someone sees."

After a short silent prayer to myself, I tow myself towards him. He smirks, fading into doom. I listen to the concrete stairs respond to his heavy footsteps and I follow him.

The doors whine and slam shut behind me, sending dust flying. The dense air floods into my lungs and mists over my hammering heart. My hands scamper for the wall before continuing. If Mitch wasn't going to murder me, falling down these stairs will.