Second chance | Kurt Kunkle ✅

Chapter fourteen: saviors

The entire world became a huge mess once again.

Not like when I found Kurt though. No, it was the cruelly spinning mixture of the room, caused by the loss of blood and the sugar slowly, but certainly sucking my life away.

I tried to calm myself down. I didn't have enough energy to get myself out of the hand- and legcuffs, but nothing was lost. I still had my last plan to shout loudly, at least to let the neighbours know what was going on.

Even if I didn't make it, at least Portman would receive his rightful punishment.

I collected as much air as I could to my lungs, focusing on not throwing up, even though the floor in front of me was covered in my blood. Once I couldn't collect more oxygen, I let out a scream, filled with all the feelings I had inside me: sorrow, fear and hope mixed in it. Their mixture called for help, called for my little trio to find me even just for a last goodbye.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, placing all my energy in it. As expected, Portman had to react to make me shut up – by stuffing some sort of clothes into my mouth.

I felt sick as the smell hit my nose. I didn't know what sort of clothing was that, but it made my stomach go up and down multiple times.

"No use crying like a helpless baby" he hissed right into my face. His expression tried to tell me how determined and unflappable he was.

Well, since I was a psychiatrist, I saw the broken, desperate, avengeful man behind the mask. He wasn't acting on his own will – grief made him do what he did.

I wriggled as he pulled the knife by its sharp side along my already bleeding side, my raw flesh pulsating the crimson liquid. Since it was so on whether I scream or not, thanks to the disgusting socks in my mouth, I let out another cry of agony as pain stabbed me.

Why did I deserve this? – I asked myself through my blurry vision. My sugar was rushing limitlessly into the sky, my side was releasing all the blood I had. Maybe the neighbours didn't even hear me – maybe he didn't even have any neighbours at all.

I was good as dead, I told myself. At least I'll die in a good cause, so God will accept me by his side – after all, I helped an ill child of his. I healed his wounds and turned him into a trustable person, giving him a second chance. At the same time, I also found love in him, not to mention the greatest friend I could ever get in Sergej's figure.

Even more tears came out of my eyes. My heart ached at the thought that I'll never see them again: I can never enjoy a movie night with Hazel. I can never enjoy Kurt's protective self or Sergej's one-handed hug.

Everything was lost.

Maybe this thought was the sinner. Maybe it was the amount of blood that I had lost. Maybe none of these but my sugar level – who knows. I only knew that I was tired, tired of wriggling and fighting against a fully grown, powerful and avenge-hungry man.

"Forgive me, please" I sent my last, mental message to my friends and let the darkness pull me closer and closer until my view fully went black.

~•~

Third person view

Sergej didn't like the idea of Marcy simply roaming around alone, without his or Kurt's presence from the very beginning. He didn't like the other male of the little group, yet him being with the older Hargrove girl was better than Marcy herself alone.

Soon 15 minutes passed, but Marcy was nowhere to be seen. It was as if the girl just disappeared, growing anxiety more and more in the Russian. He was going circles in front of his car, kicking the dry branches all over the place.