Stealing Your Heart: One Crime At A Time

Chapter Six

        November 15, 2021
        Khabarovsk Krai, Russia
        6:14 pm

      I walked down the barren hallway as the sound of dripping water echoed throughout my mind. The sound of my footsteps against the cracked floor startled me. How come their footsteps are so quiet?
      I was on a mission. At least I think so. I'm not too sure anymore at this point. Finding them will be too much of a hassle. Besides, I'm on the wrong side of the country.
      But he did say that they'd be here. Or maybe it was a she? I couldn't tell due to the person, or should I say thing, talking to me was just a shadowy figure. I couldn't tell where their eyes were or even HOW the shadow could talk. Slenderman anyone?

      "Oh please, Cris. It's hopeless at this point."
      I jumped back in my pathway. There are others lurking here?
     
      "Cynthia, we talked about this just five minutes ago!" shouted a male voice. "She will be fine. She just needs to rest. That's all."

      The loud sound of slap! echoed throughout the darkened hallway. I had assumed that someone was hit with another's hand.
      "You idiot!" shouted a female voice, who I presumed was the Cynthia girl. "She's been resting for at least ten years and counting. Who knows when she'll wake up! For fucks sake she could be dead already. How can you stay calm and assure me that everything will be okay?"

      Who're they talking about?

      Somebody snorted as if calling the other's bullshit.
      "Cynthia, my dear." Footsteps that were not mine cracked against the ground floor. "You are worrying way too much and thinking way too into this situation." A pause. "Please sit down and drink some liquids. Your face is all white."
     
      Heels stomped against the ground as the sound of things falling and smashing into pieces echoed. Did someone get pushed?

      I sneakily crept down the hallway as the sound of more things smashing and breaking started to get louder and louder as I approached

      "If she had not left God's hug, maybe  this would not have happened, would it, Cynthia?"

      My head lurked around the corner of a door frame as my eyes adjusted to the bright light. Two figures, a tall man and a medium sized girl, stood facing each other near the large curtain in the center of the room. There was glass everywhere, along with droplets of blood leading towards the curtain.
      "You just do not get it, Cris, " replied the woman. I followed the trail of blood with my eyes, which led me to the man's arm. The middle part of it was stitched up while the top and bottom half of the stitching was gushing blood. Did the girl cut him?

      "You are such a little brat, Cristopher!" shouted Cynthia, who clenched her hands into fists ready to swing. "You will never understand what it is like being her. Never!"
      Cris smirked a toothy smile. "And how do you know that?"

      Something about this situation is causing me to want to throw up.

      Cynthia bowed her head as if she was ashamed. "Because I used to be like her."