Syn Carnahan thought that the only true darkness around her was in her own head, but after witnessing the horrific murder of her friend, she is pulled into a world that she wished she didn't belong in. A world where every dirty little secret is rev...
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The knife dragged easily over his skin. His muffled screams echoing through the concrete room, as it just bounced off of the walls in endless cycles.
Aleksei stood in the corner, watching the sick brigade with interest.
One last swipe of the blade across the man's throat, sent blood rushing out and all over my hands and the floor and the chair. It reeked of death.
He drown in his blood.
"This is the last?" I hissed, looking at the body, bloody, broken, unidentifiable. Just like all the others.
"Yes. All others were killed at their base." He told me, with quick words and a nod. His eyes scanning over the blood.
I nodded, as I wiped the bloody knife on my sleeve.
They thought they could take her. That they could just simply steal away what didn't belong to them, and for it to not have consequences.
Syn was mine. They touched her. And so I broke every bone in their bodies, and burnt them away. It was the least I could have done, I could have done worse.
But this, I made sure to Make it a reminder to all others who might dare, that my property isn't for the hands of greedy men.
Aleksei got a text, his phone lighting in his pocket as I stared at the blood. Red, hot, vile.
It just stained my body, a mix of the six mens blood spilt today. All, collecting on the same floor, making it thick, and the room stuffy with iron red.
The smell, lit me up. The colour of it on my hands, made my skin ache for more. The knife, still seeming to beg for more from me.
Aleksei sighed, his own bloody hands reaching forth into his pocket, and not a second later did he chuckle lowly and turn his gaze upwards again. "She broke into your booze fridge." He told me lowly, trying to hide the small amusement on his face.
I hated that he didn't hate her.
I shot my head to him, my eyes narrowing. "What?" I said. Being certain she had been fast asleep in her usual 6 hour mid day nap when I had left. "How." I said through gritted teeth.
"Doesn't say. But apparently she—" he began, stopping briefly in pause and swallowed. "She is drunk, and is stripping." He finished.
And I rolled my shoulders at that, before taking the knife and stabbing it into the chest of the dead man once more.
"Have this all dealt with." I told him, pushing past him and into the hallway.
"Shouldn't you shower first?" He suggested, and in fact I should, the bloody mess that stained me and began to dry. The blood of the men who touched her, and took her away, and made her hate the dark and the silence.
