Lethal Love

3 ; A Pine Forest

It all happens in slow motion, even though my heart is pounding a thousand beats per minute. 

I let out a deranged scream as the body touches mine and we descend down to the ground. 

My jaw aches painfully as it hits the pavement, basically breaking both our falls along with my palms.

The body on top of mine roughly gets up, and as I turn my head to the side, I can see four feet. One pair slightly bigger than the other. 

Then I hear voices.

"You can't escape now," one says. I can tell it's a man by his rough voice, sounding as if he's been smoking since he was in the womb. 

The other guy remains silent.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" the man sneers.

I'm still on the ground, too petrified to even move an inch. My mind is going in overdrive and my breaths are shallow.

"You don't deserve to be at the top. You don't deserve anything. You're nothing but a low-life bitch who lick other peoples asses," the man continues.

I don't see their faces, but I can tell the other guy is getting pissed because even if the only light provided is the orange one from right over my head, I can tell his fists are white. 

I keep laying still on the ground, but when one of the white fists make contact with a jaw and I hear cracking, I spring up to my feet. I contemplate if I should run or stay. But even if I did wan't to run, my feet won't even lift from the ground.

I can see the back of a big guy, probably the one with the smoking addiction. But the other guy is shielded from my line of sight.

 The big guy pulls something out of his pocket and in one swift motion, lunges for the other guy. He misses however, and the knife falls to the ground, squinting in the light.

Before I can even think of doing anything, saying anything, the smaller guy reaches for the knife and stabs it at the other guy.

I don't even register what's happening as the body falls limp to the ground. A high-pitched scream escapes my throat while I lifting my hands to my mouth. Tears pierce my eyes and I want to turn around and run far away.

As if not noticing me before now, the guy, the one still standing, stiffens. He's staring at me, but I can't see his face properly. The lamppost is behind him to his right, and I know he can see my face clearly. I'm sure he can see my chest rising with each heartbeat as well, because I sure as hell can feel it. 

It's too late to run.

The knife is still in his right hand, blood dripping down forming a small puddle. I eye it cautiously. 

I want to run. I want to scream. I want to plead for mercy. 

But I don't. I'm not doing anything at all. I physically can't. I'm paralyzed from fear. 

My mind is exploding but empty at the same time.

He takes a step towards me and this makes me flinch backwards instantly. He notices this and before I can pull away he grips my right wrist with his left hand. I pull in a sharp breath at the pain cursing through my wrist. 

I'm thinking he's about to slice me open or something. 

But he doesn't. 

What he does is far worse. 

He opens my fist and closes it around the handle of the knife, clamping a hold around my hand which is now clamping a hold around the knife. 

He releases my hand and the knife falls to the ground, making droplets of blood spray my legs.

"Wh-What j-just h-ha-happened?" I ask, my voice shaky.

The guy chuckles and I look up. I can see his face now. 

His eyes are green. But not the faded green that most green eyes are. They're strikingly sharp, the color of a pine forest. His curly hair is slightly damp and is sticking to his forehead and falling in his eyes. I can't tell if his hair is dark brown or black, but whatever color it is, it looks soft. 

His jaw is sharp and I can tell he's mad because of the way it clenches and unclenches. He's almost a foot taller than me, automatically putting me in an inferior position as he looks down on me. His arms are crossed over his broad chest. 

The only words I see in him are strong and cold. 

I wonder what he sees in me. 

I wonder if my fear is as visible as it feels.

"You just killed a guy," he says. His voice is deep and rough, unfeeling.

"No, no I didn't. You did," I say, my voice wavering a bit.

"Try telling that to the cops. Your fingerprints are all over the knife."

My breath is deepening as I'm beginning to panic even more, if thats even possible. 

He continues to just stand there. Neither of us move for a few moments, wondering what happens next. I try to think of an escape plan to all of this, but all I see is dead ends. 

The guy slowly reaches his hand towards my face, and my whole body stiffens. I don't move until he touches my jaw. 

I flinch back, an immense pain throbbing in my jaw. I don't even try to touch it, knowing it'll only hurt.

"You're lucky, you could've bitten your tongue off or broken your teeth," he says.

I snort. "Lucky!? Lucky my ass..."

"You might need stitches. I don't know, it's too bloody for me to see in this light," he says.

"No shit Sherlock," I say, deciding I'm done showing my fear. 

I'm still scared as hell, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Watch your mouth, oh wait," he taunts. I glare at him. 

"Pick up the knife and come with me."

I stare at him. "No, why the hell would I do that?"

He takes a step towards me as I take a step back. 

"Your jaw needs to get looked at. I doubt you'll want your parents knowing any of this so they can't do it. If you go to a hospital they'll ask questions and you don't want that either. And you need to pick up the knife because it's your DNA all over it and if you leave it you'll get charged with murder."

He turns and starts to walk away into the dark. I stand there, not knowing what to do. 

I could try explaining the truth to the police, but I doubt that'll end well as I don't have any proof other than my words. They'll have cold hard evidence on me.

So I pick up the knife carefully and jog to catch up with him, letting him lead me further into the darkness.

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A/N: 

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