Sadist vs. Masochist

Chapter 4

*Isaiah's POV*

The knife ceasing from his sock has dark blood stains all over its long jagged blade. Think fast Isaiah, what will his next move be? Stomach, they always go for the stomach. Forcefully pushing my hands down against his rigid skin, the knife sliced through my skin into my left thigh. Everything began to become hazy, the last thing I remember is feeling the chill air brush up against my open skin.

*Pipper's POV*

He sees my eyes peeking through the slightly tinted car window. In the distance, I could see the red and blue lights coming faster than my eyes could blink. The tall man turns his neck sharply behind him also seeing the lights. In a matter of two seconds his feet race to the driver's side. Locking the doors, I kept a hand on the car door just incase. The glass is shattered as a large fist is punched through the driver's window. I jump out of the car and run over to Isaiah. The car starts and the man backs out and drives away, leaving skid marks all over the driveway.

"Isaiah, Isaiah please wake up. I'm here, I'm sorry this all happened," I manage to speak through the tears.

Looking over my shoulder, the police make a sudden stop. They begin running out of the car, "Please help, he won't stop bleeding."

"Step back immediately, turn against the wall with your palms placed above your head against the wall," the average height police officer ordered me.

As he looks down he speaks into his portable walkie talkie strapped to his vest, "Dispatch we have an approximately early 20's man, wound on his left thigh. Send an EMT immediately."

The other police officer who had dark hair and a bloated stomach walked over to where I stood.

"Miss, what happened here? Are you part of his injuries?"

Barely being able to speak clearly I manage to speak, "No, the- the man, he came in. He took our car, he- he stabbed Isiah."

"What did this man look like," the officer asked with his small notebook and pen in his hand.

"He- he was wearing a dark grey sweater and baggy sweatpants," I respond.

"Do you recall any facial features?"

His face, he looked at me. We made eye contact. "A scar, on his cheek."

"Is this man, Isiah you said, is he your boyfriend," the officer questions.

"Husband, he's my husband," I look him in the eyes and state. He looks down at my hands, specifically my left one. My ring is beautiful. Isiah surprised me with his proposal 2 years ago. We've been married for a year now.

"Is there anything else we should know," he looks at me with a stern face.

"Our stuff, inside. Is there anything missing?"

Looking at me still he responds, "Ma'am that'll be for you to look and decide upon."

Just as the words fall out from his mouth, the ambulance arrives in a sudden manner. Two men wearing blue run out from the back of the large vehicle.

"His pulse is weak, about 28 beats a minute," the one shouts to the other man to the right of him.

Laying the stretcher out and positioning him in the center of it, they count to 3 and lift him. I look at the officer and run towards Isiah. They begin fast walking to the back of the ambulance car.

"Who are you?" The one holding him in the front asks me.

"His wife," I look the man in the eyes and respond. After telling him that, he informs me that I can come with them to the hospital.

The smell in the back of the car was blank. Everything went blank. Isiah's face becoming pale along with my mind, the driver rushes into the street with the lights and siren blaring in every direction you looked or turned.

10 minutes pass of silence, the only thing making sound is his heart monitor. My finger is tapping at the pace of it. A minute later my finger is still on my thigh. It's not tapping anymore, he's flat lining.