The Darkest One

The Darkest One Ch. 21 The Trigger Part Two (Edited)

Chapter 21 The Trigger Part Two

Where to run though? The cops were everywhere. Then I had it. The balcony! Even if there was a cop out there they wouldn't be able to stop me. Not when I was that close to freedom. I zeroed in on my destination and sprinted.

I could hear yelling and shots behind me but barely paid any attention to them. There could have been an alien invasion and I wouldn’t have noticed. The door was in my grasp before I truly realized what I was doing. I was running from the cops because Grimshaw told me too?

I paused. What was I doing? Why was I running? I didn’t run from my problems. I did try to avoid them to the last possible second but I didn’t run from them. I wanted to pull the door open and run; everything in me was screaming at me to do so. I shook my head trying to shake off the confusing thoughts. Where would I go anyways once I got to the balcony? There was nowhere to run and yet I was running.

I turned around slowly, my hand still gripping the door behind me. Drew was right there yelling in my face. Something about how stupid I am and how he was worried; I tuned him out. Behind him, standing several feet away were the cops and Grimshaw. They had their guns drawn and pointed at me and behind them were the rest of my family. All of them looked worried but my gaze filed back to Grimshaw.

He was grinning. “Are you trying to run? Where would you go?”

I didn’t know. You told me to run. I wanted to scream at him.

“Although with the charges we’ve got on you, you should be running.” He laughed; the sinister and mocking tone chilled me to the core. “Run.” It was an order.

I was moving before I fully realized what I was doing. I pushed the door open and slipped out the door. Spinning on my heal I spun around to face the city. It was overcast; the only light was coming from the buildings. I was pushed forward a few steps when the door was hit. I forced my weight against it again forcing, it shut.

A burning itch started on my back. Heat coursed along my back and my front. I cursed, feeling an overwhelming urge to scratch at it and peel the skin away from my back. As disturbing as it sounded it felt like it was the only way to make it stop. The heat became unbearable the longer I stood pressing it against the door. Something was wrong. I felt it in my gut. Something terrible happened. I clutched a hand in my shirt, over my heart. I let out a sob.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and stumbled away from the door. I scratched at my back vigorously as I leaned against the rail. The heat lessened enough to hoist myself over the rail just as the door banged opened. I ignored it; I had to. I had to keep moving. And the only way was down.

Again I paused. What was I doing? Was I really going to jump? The answer was yes. Yes I was going to jump. It was pretty easy. All I had to do was step off.

And then I was falling.

Freefalling left my stomach in my throat and my voice hoarse from screaming. My ears seemed to turn back on as I perfectly heard the wind rushing past my ears and surprised shouts from above me. I toppled over myself several times and the itching in my back worsened. I stared wide eyed at the quickly approaching ground as the itching turned into pain that made my blood curl. It soon became all I could focus on, even though I was hurtling towards my very doom.

It itched and crawled all over until it settled in two spots along my back. And then it started ripping. I could feel my skin tearing apart as something forced its way through.  I screamed and scratched at my back angrily. I wanted, no needed, it to stop.

I didn’t think I could handle it if it went on any longer. And any longer sealed my death. Faintly I remembered that I was still falling and if I can’t focus long enough I’ll be dead. I’ll be squashed into the ground and probably be a hassle to clean up.