The prey

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I was not afraid of death, but the man breathing over my head.

Ready to take my soul.

Demolish me. And then devour me.

As if he hadn't done it already.

I didn't know how I was still breathing, or why was I even alive. He should plung this knife into my chest and kill me too. Cause I couldn't watch it. How could I when a man was squirming on the floor in his own blood.

Everything around me was shrinking, suffocating me in the violence.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked disbelievingly Judas—calm, collected, eerily unbothered by the pool of blood now seeping across the floor. His fingers resumed their idle robotical drumming against my waist.

And with every tap, I'd panic a little more.

Carlo's guttural groans filled the suffocating silence, but Judas paid him no mind. His hand, now clean of blood, traced slow, almost affectionate circles on my side. The warmth of his touch burned through the cold shock freezing my limbs and I couldn't move.

"Strange, isn't it?" His voice was low as he kissed the shell of my ear and I shut my eyes as tears burned. "How quickly things can change. One moment, you're laughing. The next..." He glanced at Carlo through his shades, now slumped and convulsing, his remaining eye wide with pain and terror. "You lose an eye. Life's cruel that way."

One could hear amusement. And the other men around stiffened. Eyes widened and mouths opened.

And I could see the realisation seeping into their bodies as Judas casually took off his glasses with other hand and threw them over his shoulder.

Carlo's gurgling breaths were loud now, desperate even.

"A little bird once told me," Judas sighed slowly walking forwards without letting me go as I stumbled into his chest with every step, "that if you want something done right, you must do it yourself." He slid the knife from the table again, flipping it in his hand like it was an extension of his will. And maybe it was. Cause the blade looked deadlier in his hands than on the table. "Too bad Carlo didn't get the memo."

A lazy smile spread slowly across his face, the kind that never reached his eyes. "An eye for an eye? Pity. I always preferred a fucking head for a thoughtless tongue."

He let go of me and I caught the edge of the table pressing my palm against my mouth as bile rose up.

"You... you can... see?"

One of the men muttered. Terrified. Scared and even frightened to the point of having an anxiety attack.

My insides coiled and I took a trembling breath as Judas's hand snaked to the back of Carlo's head, gripping his hair.

There was a sickening sound as the blade slid cleanly across his throat. Blood sprayed out in an arc, coating the chair, the table, and the once pristine floor. Carlo's body spasmed violently, choking on the blood flooding his throat.

Eye wide.

The red splatter hit my skin, warm and sticky. My chest heaved, bile rising in my throat again, but Judas was already standing up.

The front of his suit and his once clean face covered with blood, grinning as he wiped the blood off his check with his thumb before grabbing my wrist and pulling me to him.

"No!" I gasped and tried to fight him as he quickly turned me around pressing my back against his chest and grabbed my throat, seizing my breath and trapping me.

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