Forlot - Books 19-21

Chapter Five

"Nooooooooo!" I proclaimed. I shoved Mary Sue aside and got on my knees. My first instinct was to pull the knife out, but what good would that do?

Meanwhile, the real worlder was leaning back in the chair and crying softly. And he should be! Whoever claims that men should not cry once in a while needs to return to school.

That is right. Schools in the real world just teach you what the sine, cosine, and tangent of 31 is or however those stupid math problems work.

Again, who decided that complex math should be taught to creative people like our writer? I want the names and their addresses.

The man's injury was severe, and if he did not receive professional help, he would die. I decided to keep him distracted from the pain and asked him a bunch of questions, like how old he was and his favorite color.

"I apologize that we had to meet like this, sir," I said. "My friend, if I can even call her that, had no right to kidnap you. She broke one of Forlot's rules, and I promise you that justice will be served."

Tears stained his cheeks, and he sniffed. "Y-you have nothing to be sorry for, Miss..."

"Call me Cassandra. Everybody does."

"That name totally fits you."

"And what should I call you, sir?" I slowly wrapped my thumbs and fingers around the knife's handle and carefully pulled it out.

"Yoooooooow!"

"Yow? That is your name?" I teased, knowing that was not it.

He did not answer my question and instead said, "That was the most painful feeling that I have ever endured. And I had bullies who...well, bullied."

I stood back up and waved the dagger in his face. Red blood, some of his blood, was on it, and his eyes bulged.

"My blood! My precious blood. Gone..."

"Calm down," I instructed him, giving him a reassuring smile. "You did not lose much. If you did, you would have been dead by now."

His body shuddered. "I feel something heavy on my leg. And wet."

We looked down at his pants - and one side of it was completely soaked with blood!

I slapped my forehead. I did not think that blood would spill out! This is why I am an agent and not a doctor.

I knew that the man would be panicking and attempting to break the ropes, so I tried to reassure him that I would help him get to some professionals and that he would not die. But no matter what, the man was positive that he was doomed.

"I should have not been a politician!" he shouted. "Then I would not be in this mess!"

"Actually, it would not make any difference," I told him the harsh truth as I tried my best to get the bleeding to stop. "You would have probably been kidnapped by Mary Sue anyway."

The real worlder began hyperventilating. "What...did I do...to your friend?"

"Nothing. Unless you are a bad politician."

"No, no. I have done much good. I donate to charities and put the American people first."

"You are an American?"

"Yes. I am actually from Switzerland and came to the United States years ago. I ran for office and won by a long shot."

"Hold that thought for a second."

I pulled my hands away from his wound and noticed that my palms were drenched in red blood. My fingers were twitching, and I was ready to pass out. Luckily, the man spoke up.

"Are you bleeding too? Why are your palms red?"

I gulped and hesitated. "This...is your blood."

His teeth chattered. "T-that is i-it. I am d-dying."

"Not on my watch." Not caring if I got blood on my clothes or things, I took out my cellphone and quickly dialed a number. I held up the phone to my ear. "Come on. Pick up."

I heard a male voice on the other end. "Hello? To whom am I speaking to?"

"My name is Cassandra, and I am at the agency."

"Okay. Is there an emergency?"

"Yes, yes, yes. There is a person who was stabbed and is now losing tons of blood. Please hurry. The blood will not stop."

"I am sending help right now. While you are waiting for backup, I would like to know if you put pressure on the wound."

"I tried using my hands, but they did not work."

"What about a towel or blanket?"

"There is neither a towel nor blanket in the area where we are, and I am afraid to leave him."

"Okay. Just monitor him until help arrives."

"I will. Do you now how long..." I spun around, and my voice trailed off. I dropped my phone, and it clattered to the floor.

"Hello? Cassandra?" I could hear the doctor. But I was unable to answer, for I was in utter shock.

The man was no longer in the chair. Or was it him? It was hard to tell because in place of him was a dirty skeleton!

Soon, help arrived, and I explained to them what I witnessed. The only thing that I purposely left out was who stabbed him. I wanted to confront Mary Sue first before turning her over to the authorities.

I surveyed the place in search of Mary Sue and did not spot her.

"Darn it!" I said. I raced up the stairs and looked for her. I cupped my hands around my mouth. "Mary Sue!"

I accidentally bumped into Kathy, and she gasped when she saw me.

"Oh my gosh. Cassandra. I was thinking that Mary Sue was holding you hostage."

"It was not me that she was holding hostage."

Kathy noticed my bloody hands and gently grabbed both of my wrists. She lowered them from my face. "Cassandra...what happened? Did Mary Sue hurt you?"

"Trust me, Kathy. You do not want to know what she did this time."