No Pills

Here Is Your Taste

*Charlie's P.O.V*

Igor shakes his head. "I can kill your sister too, you know." Then he swings his head back, humming to who knows what. My eyes flutter with every inkling to strangle him.

"It's your choice." His gaze shifts to mine nonchalantly.

Life passes. I can't cry, though my heart is bleeding.

I tie my hair not too tight. He smirks. Leaning in, I reminisce about myself, my name, who gave birth to me, and why she would undress and make someone quiver under her - it's her job. It's called acting. Mine has always been to protect my sister. I have to act.

Igor pushes me back and finds handcuffs. As he jerks my wrists, I wince. In a blink, he's squashing me on the couch. His total weight collapses on me once he's taken off my shirt. I can't breathe. I grip anything and everything because my head can't even move underneath his large palm. When he unbuckles his belt, I try gasping for air, but his gun's barrel invades my mouth.

"Suck it," he snarls.

I shut my eyes. But he doesn't shoot.

"I said suck it."

A metallic taste spikes my tongue.

He jeers, "Don't make your teeth scrape the barrel cuz if you do that with me, I'll blow your brains out. And it's your mom's blood, so stop making that face."

I stop making a face. Igor withdraws the barrel and reaches for my neck, but I bite his hand too hard.

"AAR-" He is cut off by my lips attacking his face so fast that we topple. The gun winds up right above our heads, though it's a struggle getting it while cuffed. It almost slips, but he doesn't see; my hair is all over him. Securing my lower body on top of his waist, I bite his ear lobe hard.

"You - AAAGH-"

I turn off the gun's safety, only for him to try wrenching it from me.

It fires straight for his arm. He grits his teeth.

I back away, struggling to retain my grip on the gun. My ears are deafened, and my head is buzzing. When he reaches forth with the words, "I'M GONNA KILL Y-" another bullet flies.

Now, his thigh is also punctured. He screams for guards, and then the door opens, and I don't care - I'm still pointing the gun at him while the guard - wait, why am I not dead yet?

"What are you waiting for?! Shoot him!"

"Sorry, sir." The guard instead says, then he lifts his walkie-talkie to his lips. "Yes, he shot someone, but I'll clean up. Don't bother. Return to your units."

"43," I exhale.

Igor rolls his eyes, causing 43 to rush to my side. He points his pistol at Igor just as I almost fall.

"You ok?"

"I'll be," I heave, leaning on the couch. When my ears and my head feel a little better, I spot Igor's phone.

"Call those who have my sister. Tell them to let her go."

Igor laughs. He laughs like this is a dumb joke, so I shove the barrel in his mouth.

43 gets the phone. Igor's eyes don't leave mine.

When he is done with the call, I tear up my shirt to stop his bleeding.

"Hey, don't do that," 43 contends. I ignore him. Shaking his head, 43 reveals a handkerchief and a bottle. After pouring its contents on the cloth, he presses it onto Igor's nose.