I rushed at Mark. Flicking my wrist, I threw the knife clutched in my hands at him. In the darkness, I couldn't follow it, but I knew it him when Mark screamed. But, how could it not hit him? It was a straight shot, and he couldn't see it coming. Another wave of pride swept over me when I heard the thump of a body, his body, hitting the floor.
"You bitch!" he snarls from the dark, his voice strained. Good. He deserves to be in pain.
My eyes squint in the dark as I struggle to locate his body, but it's too damn dark. Groaning, I walk backwards and slide my hand along the cold concrete wall until my fingers find the cold switch, and I push against it, turning on the light. I close my eyes for a few seconds as the bright white LED light bulbs illuminate the car garage. A slight buzzing sounds as the lights power up, and I open my eyes, searching for my target.
Mark lays there sprawled on the floor to my right, close to the wall. My knife is lodged deep into his upper thigh, blood pooling around his body, staining his clothes.
Great shot.
With a smile, I start walking over to him to retrieve my knife, and to kill him if he isn't already, when a weight lands on my back, forcing me to the ground. I gasp as my knee scrapes the concrete, landing flat on my stomach. I can hear someone, a male, on top of me, struggling to pin me down as I try to wriggle away.
"Hold still damn it." A gruff voice above me commands, and I immediately know who it is. Robert, Mark's brother. One of his hands hold both of my wrists behind my back, trapping them in his iron grip. A scream tears at my throat, coming out as a strangled cry like a dead animal,but as soon as it's out, Robert's hand flies across my mouth, shoving the sound back down my throat. "Shut the fuck up, you little cry baby." He sneers, and I can feel my anger slowly growing. No one talks to me like that. But I stop screaming. I stop resisting. Because I know that Robert can kill me, and that's his main goal at the moment. If I want to escape alive, I have to ensure I behave.
This won't be the first time Robert and I have tried to kill each other. We've had it out for one another for a good four years. A lot of times, we've almost succeeded at offing the other, but we never have. But, he's never caught me this off guard. And this night... This will either be the end of one, or both of us. As I lay there, lost in my thoughts, I almost miss the slight cling of Robert's knife leaving its sheath, and my blood runs cold. Suddenly, I'm a little skeptical about who's going to make it out alive.
"Now, I'm going to take my time on you Carly. Why? Because you deserve a slow, painful, drawn out death. You deserve to suffer, like the worthless piece of shit you are."
Oh I'm the worthless piece of shit? Ha! Look in the fucking mirror.
"I'm just that kind of a bitch, Carly. Now, just stay quiet, and take it like you should." He hisses, piercing the skin just below the sleeve of my shirt.
"FUCK YOU!" I scream through his hand as he slides the knife down quickly, cutting a long, probably deep wound in my arm. Immediately, the cold spot where the knife slashed my skin is warmed by the sickly heat of my blood that now drips down my arm, sliding onto the ground. The blood feels weird on my skin, so much running down, and I get slightly lightheaded at the smell. I've always been able to deal with other peoples' blood. But my own? No way in hell.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Robert asks, almost innocently, and I hold back a spit of anger. But I don't hold back the strangled cry of pain as his knife punctures my right arm this time, slashing from my elbow, across the underneath, and curling to the top of my wrist. And this one hurts like a mother fucker.
Bite him. Something inside of me commands, and I don't give it a second thought.
My teeth clamp down hard on the flesh of his fingers, and Robert howls in anguish as my teeth penetrate his skin until I taste the warm tang of blood, and that's when Robert's free hand slaps me across the face so hard I see stars. My vision blurs and I release his finger's. For a split second, Robert's weight in unbalanced as he nurses his injured finger's, and I take full advantage of that moment. Lunging to the side, I roll over and kick out, freeing my wrists and knocking Robert away. Pain spikes in both arms as I stand, but I just wince and ignore it, ignoring my slightly blurred vision. I take it like I should.
