On the run

Chapter 4

I gulped as she took slow steps towards me. My inability to stay put has finally put me into trouble. If she’s gonna end up killing me, I wouldn’t hold it against her; after all I was the one who couldn’t mind my business.

I slowly looked at her and she looked angry, there was deathly silence in the room. I was thinking that she would calm down and let me go scot free.

That was until she slapped me in the face. Hard.

“You fucking bitch, how dare you” She snapped. Her face then softened as if she had said something that she wasn’t supposed to say. “Just…get out” She sighed. I wanted to say something, probably apologize but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.”Just fucking get out” She gritted out.

I took slow steps out of the room and softly closed the door behind me. I gently pressed my ear on the door for any movement and I heard shattering, breaking and lastly, splintering. I turned and headed to my room. I closed the door and sat down on the bed. I touched the place where she had slapped me as I looked out the window.

Just what exactly happened to her?

I’d always hated it when my curiosity got the better of me. But for some reason, I had a feeling that this situation is somehow related to me.

Nalia’s POV

I sighed as I sat on my only refugee; my bed. I massaged my temples as I tried to think straight. I looked at the book in my hands. How the hell did I think that writing in this book would help fix me.

My room was now in tatters and ruins and it makes me feel like a fucking teenager who can’t even control her emotions. My mood was not good and that girl, Stephanie or whatever she calls herself just made it worse. If not for him, I would have left her to die. She is just too curious for my liking.

But I wasn’t the one to talk; her life
was far worse than mine.

I rearranged my room to its original state with my powers; not the first time and definitely not the last.

I had quite impressive powers that saved me from trouble lots of times but what was the point of having them when it’s only used to kill innocent lives, just to buy my freedom.

That’s right, I’m a hired assassin and it’s not easy to be adapted with becoming a crazy psychopath. Believe me, I’ve tried but one can never be used to the disgusting stench of blood.
Suddenly the room lost oxygen and I was struggling to catch my breath.

“Do I seriously have to remind you of your job?” He asked. That fucker. He never fails to remind me how pathetic my life is. “I’m coming” I managed to get out.

The oxygen returned and I coughed, trying to take in as much oxygen I can. I stood up and wore my boots and black denim jacket, both tinted with red, blood obviously.

Time to go kill again.

Stephanie’s POV

Here I was, sitting in the living room; the same spot that I’ve been sitting on since Nalia left. When she left, she had a look of indifference, as if nothing had happened at all. If one thing, she was clearly good at hiding her emotions. And she really had a dark sense of fashion. She wore a black denim jacket, black leggings and black leather boots; all with streaks of red.

How weird is that?

Right now I was so bored; I wished my phone was with me. Speaking about phone, I just remembered that it was in my suitcase. I rushed to my room and started digging through my clothes that was in my suitcase by the corner. After minutes of searching, I finally found it. I tried to turn it on but to no avail.