A World Reborn

Chapter 7

It's not my knife, I've never seen that before. I continue to stare at the knife until a dry hand grabs me and throws me left, behind the couch. A second later, another loud THUD makes impact with the wall. I stare up at the wall and see two large knifes stuck to the wood. One drips slowly with fresh blood, while the other is stainless. I reach my hand towards the lowest knife, and remain careful to not leave my cover of the couch. I grasp the handle with my right hand and pull.

Nothing. It's wedged deep within the darkwood. I begin to wiggle the knife from side to side and pull the handle with both hands at the same time. This time the knife is no longer lodged in and I hold it in my hands.

Another loud noise comes from near the kitchen, and I carefully peer over the cushion. Two men of almost equal stature are wrestling with each other, one with a knife in hand. The stranger with a knife is covered by a navy blue long-sleeve shirt and wears a smug grin on his face. His eyes are covered by brown-tinted sunglasses and a small patch of dirt-brown hair protrudes off his forehead. The man across from him is wearing a far too familiar blood stained shirt. They grapple with each other, each one trying to gain the upper hand. They seem equal in strength, until the stranger ducks under a punch, and uppercuts my new friend in the jaw. I duck back down under the couch.

He hasn't seen me. Yet. This stranger knows how to fight. His posture, his stance, his hand placement, and his strikes show the amount of training he's been through.

"Amber!" a voice yells interrupting my thought. I shake myself out of my daze and clutch the knife tighter. I gaze over the couch once more and see my new friend laying on the ground. His head is turned left and he stares directly into my eyes. He doesn't have to say anything for me to figure out that he's screwed. The stranger peers over him with a blank expression and holds the knife, high in his right hand. My friend looks towards me helplessly and gulps heavily. His eyes widen as he continues to stare at me.

He sees the knife I'm holding.

A methodical smile begins to grow across the stranger's face as he twirls the blade skillfully through his fingers. The stranger opens his mouth and asks "So, where's your little friend gone?" For 20 seconds the room is eerily quiet as my friend lies on the floor. His voice quivers and he begins "She's behind the couch," while pointing towards my direction. The stranger lets out a small laugh, stares at him and says "Good, maybe I'll kill you last."

  Anger and rage boils inside of me. What the hell? I knew I shouldn't have trusted him.   The first opportunity he gets, he turns on me.

  The footsteps start to grow louder and louder. What do I do? I begin to size-up the odds against me and wonder if I should attack. No he's a far better fighter then I am. Is this how I'm going to die? Cowering behind my own couch, without Dad and Jonas? If I'm going out this way, this stranger is going out with me.

  I close my eyes and take a slow, deep breath. I wait silently until the steps approach the back of the large couch. My grasp on the dagger tightens to the point that my knuckles begin to turn white. "Come out little girl, I won't hurt you," a voice says from behind me soothingly. Now, a voice in my head advises me. I leap up from behind the couch with an unfamiliar grace and lunge at the man. The knife is about to plunge through his upper body and his face is struck with a look of horror. Time seems to slow down as the knife slices through thin air, getting closer and closer to his chest. I study his horror-stricken face, until I realize that something else has caused this. My eyes dart to his neck and see a knife lodged deeply within it. Blood pours out and flows onto his skin like a river. I notice something that makes my stomach turn, the knife that has punctured through the stranger's neck has the words L.W engraved on it.