The Contract

XV - Urgere

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The last drop of Lure's blood was on the mirror. In all its double-appearance glory, the blood seemed to almost be taunting me, in some fascinatingly twisted way; provoking me. It was almost as if an invisible string was keeping my gaze attached to the little droplet of blood that sat innocently on the glass of the mirror, right below the message, Deepest apologies, but it was fun.

And that was when an odd thought oozed its way into my mind.

I wanted to taste the blood.

I stepped back in slight disgust—why ever would I think such a thing?

I made a move to clean it off, but hesitated before doing so. I stared at the blood, tempted—this was the last of it. I glanced over my shoulder for no apparent reason, then pressed a finger to the blood. It went through.

With the cloth, I wiped the blood away, disturbed with myself.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. The heart at the end of Lure's message was dancing on my forehead. I met my eyes. I looked desperate. I was wearing the same torn, needing expression that Lure wore whenever he saw my blood.

A loud knock at the door made me jump out of my thoughts. I glanced at the door, frowning.

"Kat? Kat, I think it's about time you got up. It's already 2:00pm," my mom called from the other side of the door.

I yelled back, "I'm up!" and went to the door and opened it. My mom stood there, gazing down at me with a worried expression for some reason. I gave her a questioning look.

"Are you sick?" she asked me.

"No, I'm alright."

"Well. . . come downstairs then, okay?" she smiled at me.

I nodded as my mom left. I gave my room a last look to make sure I hadn't missed any blood. Already, I had shoved my blankets and sheets into the washer. Hopefully, my mom wouldn't decide to help me with my laundry. I'd have to get to the bundle before my mother did in case all the blood didn't get washed out.

Satisfied that my cleaning skills had succeeded, I exited my room and took the stairs by two. When I walked into the kitchen, I was highly disappointed to see grandpa sitting in a chair, sipping at some coffee. My mom was already occupied with washing dishes, while Tony sat in the chair beside Grandpa, watching him with a blank expression.

I slid into the chair that was placed as far away from my grandpa as possible. I felt his eyes on me, so I looked at him. His eyes were narrowed as he studied me as if he was interrogating me for doing something vile.

"Did you even shower yet?" he asked me, disdainfully.

More colder than I had meant to, I frosted out, "No." I looked away, hoping my mother hadn't caught my tone. My hopes were crushed when she fired a stern look in my direction.

"Have fun finding a towel," Anthony murmured mischievously, then looked back at Grandpa. Immediately, I knew Tony had done something to the towels. I assumed he had tossed them outside or had hidden them under his bed to make my life less fortunate.

My mom finished with the dishes and walked over to my chair, placing her hands on the top of it, right by my neck. She looked at me with a smile as I strained to look up at me. "We're going away for today and tomorrow. The weekend." She paused. "We haven't gone out of the house as a family for such a long time."

I tried not to show my distaste. It wasn't that I didn't like going away with my family—I just didn't feel like it at the time. I wanted to laze around all weekend.