Chapter 25

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As I storm out of the cafe, I notice that it's been about 20 minutes since the first warning pain should've gone off. Maybe Anti forgot? I can't imagine how that'd happen. He loves tormenting me. Then again, he hasn't really done anything super violent in a while.

I head home, completely forgetting about how I'd left Bernice Baker with a fork in her hand and a napkin in her mouth.


On the way home, I pick up an iced tea. While passing a thrift store, a large round object catches my eye. I purchase it and continue home, knocking first to see if Anti'll let me in so I don't have to set my stuff down.

To my surprise, he opens the door, letting me in. I quickly make my way to the table and set down my cup and the plastic bag. I reveal the large board, with a diameter as tall as my torso. I heft it over to him, displaying a ringed circle with various numbers listed on it.

Anti raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. His eyes glide from the board to me.

"It's a dartboard," I explain. "It was pretty cheap because it came without darts, but it's still in great condition. You're always tossing knives around. Try throwing them at this instead of stabbing yourself in the leg or ruining my furniture."

Tucking the thing under my armpit, I move over to one of the drawers in the kitchen, retrieving a push pin. Then, I stab the pin into the wall at Anti's eye-level and hang the dartboard from it. He stares at me while I set it up for him, then continues to stare when I finish and turn to him. I cross my own arms.

"If you don't want it, I can take it back. It's one of those 7-days-and-it's-yours-forever deals," I roll my eyes. "Just say so."

Another long pause extends between us. "...Why'd you get that?" he asks, with odd quietness.

"I just thought you might like it," I shrug. "That's something people do – get things for other people. Plus, you didn't give me a warning pain today while I was outside. Thought I'd give positive reinforcement about it so you'd do that more often."

"You noticed."

"Yeah. Thanks, I guess."

"Mhm..." is all he says, dismissing my gratitude and digging a small knife out of his pocket.

Holding it by the blade, he chucks it at the dartboard. It becomes buried in the felt and wood frame, sinking into the dead center. The dartboard swings back and forth, nearly getting knocked off of the pin in the wall.

"You don't have to take it back," he says.

I pause, watching him create five more knives out of thin air. Then: "How do you do that?"

Anti turns to me. I clarify, "What I mean is, how do you throw knives? I've seen people do it, but I've never understood how it works."

I expect him to patronize me, or give a vague answer and dismiss my question. Instead, he gestures for me to come closer. I oblige, standing by him. With a wave of his hand, the original knives disappear, replaced by a series of thinner knives. These are double-edged and have metal handles instead of the rubber or leather grips that Anti's weapons usually have.

He picks one up by the handle and hands it to me. I gingerly take it from him with my dominant hand, careful not to cut my hand open with the tip. Anti adjusts my grip on the weapon, then turns me to face the dartboard.

"Bend your arm back so that your forearm makes a little less than a right angle with your bicep."

I bend my arm so that my forearm is perpendicular to the ground, then pull it back a bit more.

"Throw it straight forward and release it when your arm is pointed straight at the board."

After a deep breath, I take a step forward with my opposite foot, throwing the knife like he'd described. My dagger wedges itself in the side of the board, several inches from Anti's. A smile makes its way onto my lips as I marvel at the simplicity of the activity. We repeat the process a couple of times, and I learn quickly. After a couple throws, I finally manage to wedge a blade close to the center, while he informs me about how to throw different knives.

Anti walks in front of me, gazing at the dartboard. Then, he turns back to me, arm slipping around my waist. "Not bad."

He plants his lips on mine, other arm reaching around to hold me in place. This time, I'm not too surprised to react, pushing away from him enough to break the kiss, but not enough to escape his arms.

"What the hell? Could you not do that?" My face is burning, and he probably knows it.

"I just like seeing you flustered," Anti simpers. "The normal fear stuff doesn't work on you, anymore, so I found something that does."

I groan, turning away from him. He laughs at my frustration.

"I wonder," he begins, turning my head so I face him again. He leans forward, not quite letting our lips touch but almost making it so. "What else gets to you?"

My cheeks heat up again, but Anti's cold breath doesn't cool them. I press my lips into a thin line, trying to gently leave his grasp. He abruptly lets go and I stumble back, falling into a chair. Before I can stand, he's already cornered me again, one hand on either side of me resting on the back of the seat.

"I'll ask again: Could you not?"

Anti leans forward to whisper into my ear. He's so close I can smell him and the faint scent of blood on his clothes. It's a relatively familiar scent.

"Does this mess with your head?" he breathes, sending goosebumps down my arms.

I fight the urge to shiver, not giving him the satisfaction of a physical response (besides the goosebumps). Instead of speaking, I think at him because I don't trust my mouth to not stutter.

Could. You. Not??

Anti giggles and places a kiss on my forehead, thankfully standing so I can escape the chair. I stand and take a couple steps back into an open area so he can't corner me easily.

"I'll leave you alone, for now," he sighs, smiling at me. "Don't worry, though. I'll have something new for you tomorrow."

I tense, taking another step away from him. With a final shrill laugh, he disappears. Letting out a breath I'd been holding for what felt like forever, I feel my muscles finally relax. My face still burns, though.

Well, I think, he figured out how to get to me.



I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Plaything" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue

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