Killing Death

Chapter | 4 | The Beast Within

When faced with confrontation, most people would either choose fight or flight. I was not one of them. I wouldn't run away, and I couldn't stand my ground. Not with words, not with fists. Instead I'd inhale the pain until consumed me. I would listen, and react the only way I knew how–by crying.

It wasn't like I enjoyed it. In fact, I hated it. Crying made me feel weak, pathetic.

And while I could always feel it coming, I hadn't figured out a way to stop it. Even though it always played out the same, starting with slight tremors of the body, followed by the tightening of my muscles. My heart would begin convulse by the lack of oxygen. I'd then grip onto something until my knuckles turned white. Because at this point, I'd stopped breathing and everything around me would be spinning. If there was nothing to grab, I'd dig into my flesh, which often ended up being my palms, to stop the shaking. Then I'd bite my lip and blink continuously to help my eyes swallow the tears. But my eyes would burn, beg for release. And I would give in.

I couldn't ever shut out the words attacking me. I couldn't stop my mind from welcoming them either. So the bridge of my nose would twitch before a distinct sting replaced it. It would hurt just enough to cover my eyes in a watery embrace, until the person standing before me had become nothing more than a hazy shadow of their former selves. This was when I would do everything in my power to stop the tears from falling, but it was futile. The pent up frustration always won, and the tears began to roll into an endless stream.

But this time was different. I'd cried, but I also fought back. And boy, did it feel good.

The moment my hands clasped around Davina's small neck, a surge of power ran through my body. Like a slingshot, it burst through my nerves and sprouted seedlings of strength. I was suddenly more aware of my surroundings, like everything around me had significantly slowed down. I was able to block everything out, and still be able to hyper focus on every single detail around me.

I'd never felt like this before. The ability wrapped itself around me like a shield of invincibility.

Davina was fighting back, clawing my face, punching my sides, but I couldn't feel anything. I could have protected myself against her attacks, I could see them from miles away. But there was no point. My mind wasn't registering the pain she was inflicting on my body. It was as though I'd become immune to physical damage.

Smiling, I continued pressing against her neck with ease. She wanted to see me crumble under her words. She wanted to break me down again. No. I would not let her destroy me. I would fight, not for myself but for Dean. I would not let a bitch like her get the better of me.

I channeled my rage into my hands and squeezed tighter like my life depended on it. She didn't give up, but I could see her fading. The look of resentment on her face, the horror in her eyes, was priceless. My grin only grew wider at her pain.

She didn't expect me to fight back. But that's because she didn't know that I never really had a reason to before. Now I did. I would no longer be weak, or pathetic. I was strong. I was a fighter. A survivor, and I'd be damned if someone made me believe otherwise.

"That's enough!" A stranger boomed.

The room quaked with ferocity, books flew out of their shelves, and ornaments toppled over, before I was flung back by an invisible force. My body hit the hardwood and suddenly all feeling returned.

I cried out in agony.

Choking back my tears, I blinked several times. My head felt like it'd been hit by a large rubber band. My sides ached, my body throbbed. My face stung worse than a paper cut. I lifted my hand to touch my cheeks, and immediately I was able to trace the scratches Davina had left behind.