t o x i c

p r o l o g u e

I have been truly excited to release this book!
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Amiera Harrington's POV

It was premeditated murder.

Just one shot was all I needed. It was perfect. The situation was blissful, staring straight at me enticing me in. It induced me with an ever so calming effect. The bloodlust enveloped me and wrapped around me like a fine blanket.

I cocked my gun, looking for a clear opportunity. My head was crystal clear-no thoughts veiled my mind as I found my opening.

I aimed.

I paused.

I shot.

I watched my victim's reaction-something I had become accustomed to. Her body jolted as the silver bullet pierced through her ivory skin with little resistance. The heavy emerald necklace that adorned her neck shook as her arms flailed around her. I watched the whites of her eyes become more prominent as they glazed over. I smiled innocently and hid the steel gun in my thigh holster. The cool silver metal rubbed against my thigh as I gleamed.

I stood brushing my white lace dress whilst I grinned proudly. I watched the chaos unfold right before me, people ran from left, right, front and centre as they screamed. Mother's grabbed their children as father's escorted them elsewhere. Suited men rushed around in a frenzy as paramedics arrived at the murder scene. All the whilst I glowed with happiness. "Amiera Harrington?"

Mistake one: lingering for far too long

I didn't dare to turn around, fear spiked within me and it was an absurd and uncommon feeling for a situation like this. I would never feel this emotion when faced with situations like this. I was not trained to feel this emotion unless it was towards my mother and father.

"It is Amiera Harrington correct?" I cringed as I analysed ways to kill exit soundly or kill the man.

"Yes, that is correct." I answered as swiftly as I turned to take a look at my opponent. The brooding man stood at about 6'5, his inky black hair was perfectly jelled, not a hair out of place. His soft eyes looked down at my 4'8 height as I tucked a strand of hair behind my car and smiled graciously. I raised a perfect brow, "And to whom do I owe this pleasure to?"

His facial expression changed and he looked shocked. The large man coughed, "Miss Harrington, I am from an agency-" as he blabbed on I analysed escape routes and ways to kill him with minimal attention. "I have come to save you."

I snapped out of my trance like state and glared at him when I heard him utter those words. I wasn't a damsel in distress. I whipped out my knife as the man edged towards me, "I am Amiera Harrington, not a bloody damsel in distress." I spat as I slashed his face. He cried out in shock and agony. I huffed silently and he grabbed me. I struggled in his hold as my ten-year-old body was outweighed by his. I slipped my knife into my hand and stabbed him in the back. As if he had rehearsed it his arms slipped from me and he fell forwards grumbling in pain. Mother was right people really didn't have a high tolerance for pain like me.

I bounded away and located a door to an alley. I held my gun before me as I stepped into the alleyway. It was almost movie like-those cliché dark alleyways in which something bad would happen.

Mistake two: going down the alleyway

I frowned deeply, resting my gun as I didn't hear or sense anybody. I let out a small breath of relief. Before I could do anything I was pinned against a wall and I could feel the steel of the handcuffs around my wrists. I pushed back on to the person and ran up the wall, flipping in the process. I wrapped my legs around his neck and squeezed ever so tightly. I knocked his head into the wall as I smashed my elbows into his head. The man wavered in his steps and stumbled profusely. He swayed and as he fell I unwrapped my legs from around his neck and crawled to stand.

I picked up his gun as he rolled over. I watched his face contort with fear as I shot him straight in the head. I shot him again and again, releasing my anger and frustration. Blood spurted all over my white lace dress and my face. The crimson coloured substance dripped down my face and adorned me much like how her emerald jewels adorned her neck.

Mistake three: taking too many shots

Suddenly, the gun was knocked out of my hand by another-where do these people keep coming from? I glared at him as he threw me over his shoulder. I manoeuvred my body and kneed him in the face and much like the other man this balding man fell with me, the impact making me groan loudly. The number of times I have fallen today is unbelievable.

I crawled away from him and before I could do anything a cloth was placed over my nose and mouth. I forced myself not to inhale but, somehow I managed to do so. "I'm sorry miss Harrington. We're trying to save you."