I Gave Him Fentanyl - 🔞A Dark Romance Thriller

18. Unfinished Job

THE METAL DOOR CREAKS open as I trudge inside the basement. Everything is still the same when I left it: clean and tidy - except that one corner where my rabbit is chained up, bleeding. The butter knife is still stuck on his abdomen, still there when I last left it hours ago. I could've made his chains longer so he could remove it himself; but I know his expertise with knives. There's no way in hell I would let him get his hands with a potential weapon. I would rather leave him bleeding until I come back.

"How's your party?"

I look at him, slightly surprised that he would begin our conversation.

"Chaotic."

"Explains why you look like shit."

I chuckle loudly and sarcastically. "Says the one who's drenched in dry blood and dirt."

"Your fault. You stabbed me."

I walk closer to Mr. Rabbit and then crouch down to level him, curiosity is gleaming through my eyes. As I come to face-to-face with him, I notice his breathing turning erratic, but still trying hard to control it. He's in pain. I can see it. But instead to struggle with it, he's being wise about it. This is not his first rodeo. That - is obvious.

"How do you rate my stabbing?" I ask.

"Hmm..." Mr. Rabbit hums, really thinking about it. "I rate it 9/11."

"Do you want to get stabbed again, but in the face?"

"Okay." He leans his head back on the wall, attempting not to laugh. "It's more... 4 over 10."

I flinch, my face turning sour. "That's a shit rating. May I ask why?"

"I just hate you. And because..." His gray eyes peering through the holes in his mask, flip into mine. He holds his dark gaze at me intently. I suddenly feel like I couldn't breathe. "You failed to hit my vital organs. You aimed the wrong way."

"It's just an, an impulse. I didn't really mean for you to die. N-not yet."

"And when are you going to decide that? I'm turning impatient."

I frown, but amused to hear that. "Impatient of your death?"

"Answer my question." He commands quickly, his tone turning rough.

I hate it when he does that, how in one second he could control the whole conversation and make it an interrogation where I'm at the receiving end. I clear my throat, trying to recuperate from his strong influence. "Until I figure out why you're killing these people."

"If you want to know so bad, call the police." He taunts, and I could just tell he's smiling behind his ugly mask. "Let them handle it from here."

"And take all my credit? No thank you. Especially I accidentally unalived Solerii. There's no way in hell they'll let that slide...not when half of the police is owned by Todd Ferguson."

"Todd Ferguson?" His ears perk up at the name. "How'd you know him?" Suddenly, he sounds genuinely interested.

"I met him at the party earlier. Such an asshole by the way, forced a finger inside me."

Chains rattle around his wrists as he attempts to lean forward. "What??"

"Anyway, I have to shower. After that, I'll finally pull out that knife from you and stitch your wound. Toddles!"

I then stand up and head back to the door.

🎀

I let the water wash away the dirt and sweat from my skin, clinging onto me like thick paint. They flow down in the sink, swirling and then disappearing.