Puppet {ManxMan}

CHAPTER 31

I used to black out a lot during my missions, when the emotions overwhelmed me and my conscience just shut down to protect what was left of my sanity as I ripped away life after innocent life. Usually when I came to I was covered in thick blood that was still hot and heavy on my hands. My head would be throbbing from a massive headache that usually brought me to my knees, and my body would be riddled with scattered bullet and knife wounds.

I wouldn't remember what happened for the first few minutes until it hit me that I was an assassin who just slaughtered a dozen or so people, strictly because I was told to, and if I hadn't then I would've been punished instead.

When I started coming to this time around I didn't understand what was happening. I could feel my knee pressing into someone's back, their spine an uncomfortable ridge along my leg, and their frantic pulse beating beneath my fingers. Their neck and throat was hot, I could feel them struggling underneath me, but that just spurred me on to tighten my grip, intent on tearing out their throat.

Oddly enough I could hear a voice breaking through the angry ring in my ears, someone was yanking on my arm trying to physically force me off of my victim, but the more they tried to move me the angrier I felt, so I squeezed tighter in order to feel their Adam's apple trap underneath my firm hold.

It had a sick grin pulling the corners of my lips up, twisting up into a sadistic smile that probably would have scared anyone. Except for the person still yanking on my arm and screaming at me. I think they were screaming at least, I couldn't really hear through the sharp ringing. All I could hear were the choking gasps beneath my hands.

"Demi!" my name entered my ears and the smile wavered as I squeezed a little harder, "Stop it, Demi! Hey, stop! He's had enough! We need to bring him back with us! Demi!"

Why did they know my name? What was going on?

"He's okay, Demi! Hey!" hands grabbed my face and my head was yanked up so my gaze could meet a gold and green swirl of hazel, eyes that looked strangely familiar, "Kailas is okay!"

"Kailas...," I repeated the name, wincing at the way it caught on my tongue like I was about to cry, "Kailas..."

"He's okay, Demi," the hazel eyed boy assured, and I was struggling to place a name to his face; I could've sworn I knew him, "Let him go."

"Go...," my eyes trailed down to see brown hair at the back of someone's head, my hands wrapped firmly around their throat, "Go...."

I loosened my hold and the man gasped in desperately, swallowing lung-fulls of oxygen as I sat back on my heels, staring down at my hands. Like I expected, they were covered in blood, caked with it, staining my sleeves and the front of my shirt, as well as the knees of my jeans. These weren't my usual Con Rồng clothes, and lifting my hands up I realized I wasn't wearing the shock collar.

Nothing made sense for a long time until the boy's words clicked and I suddenly recognized the name he'd said. Kailas. Kailas Patel. My Kailas. Phoniks Vidroh's Kailas. I remembered, we were looking for something, Kailas got... no...

"-ota, Dakota," I muttered, looking around frantically for him, "Where? Kailas?"

"Here," Dakota grabbed my hand and tugged me closer, then heaved me to my feet and lead me over to where Kailas was lying, letting me collapse to my knees beside him before going back to the man I'd been trying to strangle.

My hands shook badly as they hovered over his chest, looking for blood, but all I saw were four tears in his shirt, so I grabbed the fabric and ripped at it, completely shocked to see a bullet proof vest protecting his chest with four bullets crushed against it.