Never Close Your Eyes

DTM 🐊 : C. 23

|| Chapter Twenty-Three ||

"How do you feel?" Dale's right-hand man questioned the aftermath of such historical event, looking at his pale mate with concern and interest digging into his eyebrows.

For a moment, I truly thought Dale was about to call shit on our fib and start blasting bullet holes into our flesh as a consequence for such trickery.

Instead, the brightest smile I've ever witnessed on a man I've just conned slapped onto his features from the 'realization' that Skeezy was Murphy.

"I'm cured!" He cheered to his pals, thinking it was that easy to protect himself from a global pandemic that caused such a ruckus to Mount Rushmore's face.

I still can't believe graffiti painted over the faces of such idols.

One hour later • 3rd P.O.V

"We sure do appreciate this." Dale's grin was so wide his audience could make out a missing tooth on his front row.

He and Sketchy shook hands to seal their business deal, after every single one of these dumbasses was bit by The Murphy.

'How we pulled this shit off is beyond me. If they had been smarter, it wouldn't be so easy.' (Y/N)reminded herself they got lucky this time.

She faked a smile to the new 'allies', even though her innocence was threatened by the same men.

"Fair is fair." Sketchy assured everything was balanced and fair, mirroring the grins.

He felt the tension on his shoulders relieve once he knew no one was going to die; they were going to live to die another day.

Fair and fair was all of these strangers having bite marks as trophies while the opposing side received a bandwagon of needed things.

Plus, (Y/N) was safe for another day. No blood had to be shed unless you were referring to the volunteering, un-kinky marks.

Skeezy felt the full effects of the whole ordeal, and he's had laced up weed that felt better than the sensation he felt at the moment.

Nausea took over his senses after every single bite, and even though he threw up most of the bodily fluid, he still tasted the metallic liquid.

Whenever he coughed, it felt like blood had slipped pass the throw up had somehow snuck to the back of his throat. Queezy was an understatement and fed up was under exaggerated.

"Now, like I said, you're gonna wanna rest up for at least 12-hours. You need to metabolize that venom."

In this eyes of the content 18-year-old, she watched as everyone, but them, held either a arm or a shoulder in straight pain from being bit by an actual human without pain controlling medicine.

Plus, it would suck to be 'immune' but die from blood loss. (Y/N) and 10K, who was still glaring at the men, stood behind Sketchy and 'The Murphy' with the whole wagon in their grasps.

They patiently waited for the next move to be made by the two strategy-making men.

"Uh, now can we clean the wound?" Zac, the second-in-command wondered out loud, but it had been the smartest thing any of them had said through this whole process.

10K thought the same thing, glad he had some kind of common sense to medical aid.

"Not unless you want to reverse the whole process, Zac." Sketchy made sure his voice was stressing the easy ways to undo every ounce of pain.

He wanted to ensure they had enough distance from these hillbillies before they found out the truth. Last thing they needed was guns back to their heads and (Y/N)'s body on the line.