Perilous

Chapter 7

Marshall was walking in front of me, not too far but not too close. I looked at the hall way we were in. It wasn't a wide hallway, some of the ceiling lights were flickering. I looked at the walls, it looked old and dirty. Some spots had posters of photos I couldn't tell what, and other spots had hand prints spread across the wall. As if they were struggling to get away from the room I was just in. The room I was saved from.

I took my focus off the walls, and looked at Marshall. Not looked, I studied him. I could tell he was mad because of his heavy breathing. His shoulders going up and down very heavily like. I looked at his hands, they were in fists, the color pink was forming around his knuckles and I was sure his palms were bleeding.

I couldn't fully see his condition, but it couldn't have been perfect. The men were fighting back, just as he was.

I was about to take my next step when I felt a sharp pain run through my side, I let out a scream as I fell to the floor. My hand holding on to my left side. It felt as if daggers were sticking out of my ribs, my breathing uneven again. I saw Marshall turn around as he heard my scream, it only took him two long strides to get me, he kneeled down beside me.

"Amira! Amira, hey, what's wrong? C'mon talk to me."

I couldn't speak, I just looked down at my hands. Marshall looked at my hands, pulling up my shirt just to the point where we both see 3 stab wounds, bleeding unconditionally.

"Amira! When did this happen! Did they do this?! Oh my god, Amira. Danny! Danny get the hell out here now!"

I heard his footsteps coming our way with another Perilous member holding on to two of the three men that almost killed me. They in horrible condition, almost as horrible as I was. One man destroyed the two of them, insane he is.

Marshall's eyes locked with one of the men, the one who hit me and was being held by Danny. I saw Marshall's eyes go a dark sea blue, his hands back in fists, and his shoulders going up and down heavily once again. "You, you fucking bastard." Marshall charged at the man holding onto his neck, he could kill him if he just squeezed a little tighter. The other man was turning blue, struggling to get out of Marshall's grasp, it couldn't work. Marshall was much too stronger than he was.

Something in Marshal clicked, making him let go of the man. The man was struggling for his breath, breathing heavily as the other two looked Marshall and him gazed at what is happening. "Oh, my apologies, I must have took this joke a bit to far, yeah?" Marshall said smiling at the man. What was he doing? Was he seriously letting this go?

"Yes! You almost killed me for that dumb whore!" The man yelled rubbing his neck in disgust.

"Did you do this to her? The shot on her arm and the stabs on her sides?" Marshall asked the man with a smile on his face. The man just looked at him not sure what to say. So Marshall continued, "it's aight if you did, I'd even give you props." Damn, that hurt.

"Oh, then yes, I did! You should have seen her face, I stabbed her when she was unconscious, but she could still feel it, you should have seen her face, it was to die for!" The man said.

Marshall's eyes were still dark as he talked to the man. "Now, look, you inform me on what you're doing from now on and who you're doing it to. I'm the boss, not you. And if you ever, and I mean ever, put a hand on me one more time, I will slit your throat in a heartbeat." The man was looking at Marshall and let out a laugh as he started walking behind him. "Oh, yes s-sir!" Marshall stood there behind the man, smiling. He knelt down to his ear, "good boy, but it's too bad you won't ever get to do any of those things, isn't it?"

The man looked at him gazed at what he said, we all did. And right then, Marshall took a knife from his back pocket and stuck right in the mans throat. The mans face was something I couldn't easily forget. How his eyes were rolling back and he was spazzing out holding onto his neck. Marshall then took the knife from the mans throat and cleaned the blood off on the mans shirt, kicking him onto the ground.