You're Mine

Chapter Seven- The Knife

            Chase knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew.

            It came to him as he sat in class.

            His knife.

            How stupid he was to not have realized Devon’s intentions. He didn’t steal it to simply bother him. Devon always had greater motives.

            He stood up and marched out of the classroom, ignoring his teacher’s protests as he made his way to the school parking lot. He jumped on his bike and sped the whole way to Ashlynn’s house, hoping with all he had in him that Abby would be there.

            He ran into her house, looking around frantically.

            “Abby!” He yelled, using all the volume his lungs aloud.

            He tried to turn on his hunter’s instincts but he was far too panicked.

            “Abby!” He tried again.

            He heard a cry. A soft, faint cry coming from the kitchen.

            Chase almost collapsed with relief. He rushed into the kitchen then stopped dead in the doorway.

            Abby was leaning against the fridge, his knife in her hand, sobbing.

            “Don’t,” he said, taking a step towards her.

            “Stay away from me!” She screeched, clutching the knife to her chest.

            “Abby, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to let him control you-.”

            “I do,” she sobbed. I took another careful step towards her. Frantically, she turned the knife in her hands, holding the blade a millimeter in front of her chest.

            “Don’t come over here!”

            “Stop it. I’m not the enemy. I can help you.”

            She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t want to die.”

            “I know,” he whispered. “I know. I’m going to help you, okay?”

            She stared at me, something coming over her.

            “Sorry,” she whispered, then shoved the blade into her chest.

            I rushed towards her a second before her body hit the floor. She grasped onto me with shaking hands, her breath was shallow, her crying soundless.

            I almost reached down to grab the knife from her chest, but I knew it was pointless.

            That knife was designed to kill. It would not release its grip on a person until he or she was dead.

            “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to hold in my pain. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you.”

            She looked up at me with eyes that were far too comprehending. She nodded slowly. She forgave me.

            Then her muscles slacked, and all her weight fell into my arms.

            My knife fell from her chest and clattered to the floor.

            I slowly placed Abby down, cradling the back of her head in my hand before it hit the floor. Almost like I thought it would hurt her.

            Tears still spilled down from her cheeks. Her skin was still warm.

            “It didn’t have to be this way.”

            It was him. He dared to show himself.

            “I’m going to kill you,” Chase whispered.

            “You can’t,” he said almost humorously.

            Chase rushed at him in blind, stupid rage. He stopped him easily. With a flick of his hand, Devon sent him sprawling to the floor.

            “You’re weak when your angry, Caulfield. Emotional attachment to humans does that to you.”

            “You killed her sister!” Chase shouted. “You call me weak? You’re so weak that you resort to killing people to win over the affection of someone who will never-.”

            “Shut up!”

            “We weren’t supposed to murder, Devon. We were never supposed to murder!”

            He shook his head almost regretfully. “I had no choice. You got in my way.”

            “So you killed her sister.”

            “If I could kill you, I would have,” he said, smirking a little.

            So he framed me instead, Chase thought dryly.

            Devon smirked at Chase, almost as if he heard his thoughts.

            Sirens sounded in the background, causing Chase to grimace.

            “Looks like someone called the cops,” he said, motioning to the cell phone in his pocket.

            Chase clenched his jaw, wanting to rip him apart. Sensing his motives, Devon kicked him to the floor again.

            With that, he turned away from him and began walking away.

            “Your DNA is all over the crime scene,” Devon informed him. “There’s not even really a point in taking back your knife.”

..Sorry, guys. I really had to for the sake of the plot…. Please don’t kill me :D