Shards of Moonlight || A Short-story Collection

Cheers To a New Year

"Arrogant, self-absorbed baboon-shitnugget."

A sudden, eerie silence filled the kitchen, disturbed only by the crackling radio.

"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock..."

His facial expression changed from harmless perplexity to seething anger, portraying all the predatory shades of his personality. "What did you just call me?", his icy voice whispered while he took multiple menacing steps toward me, his lengthy strides those of a carnivore. As if all of his movements were caught on camera in a TV show and shone off at least twenty gigantic gas panels or were reflecting in a million pieces off a fly's eyes, I noticed every little detail about HIM.

How his once handsome face with the sharp jawline and bright eyes, twisted into the grimace of a devious devil. Perfectly plucked and shaped eyebrows furrowed, the resulting creases in his forehead building an empire. His eyes simmered deeply, open wide with sparking anger that could set the whole cabin on fire.

How he bared his teeth like a tiger about to pounce on his prey. Raking a hand through his oily, slicked-back hair before the confrontation, it now fell into his eyes that seemed void of any color in the dim light. Any color but the devil's dance of bloody red and ravenous black.

How his blood-drained hands balled into fight-thirsty fists at his sides, while his chest rose and fell in an aggravated pace matching his flaring nostrils. No trace of the seductive full lips or attractive cool demeanor.

Something snapped, a volcano about to erupt.

Even if my instincts told me to step back, I decided to stand my ground, tired of his endless antics. If Mr. Tiger wanted to play cat and mouse, he would only lose his teeth trying to crack this nut. "Answer me!", he raised his voice, the sudden scream making me flinch involuntarily. My composure faltered for a moment. No one should dare to scream at me. No. One. The anger boiled in my blood.

Still, I took a deep breath and ignored the urge to cover my ears from the excruciating reverberating sound. "I do not think it necessary to answer a slave-driving asshole that already had too much to drink today", I countered coldly, plainly stating the facts.

The crustal plate shifted, causing magma and ash to explode in a fiery firework. Magnificently beautiful, yet intimidatingly deadly. Faster than my mind could process my back was pressed against the wooden kitchen cupboard. His steely grip drilling into the white, soft skin of my neck. Air.

I need air.

"Don't-EVER. Dare speak to me again that way! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? YOU GODDAMN HEAR ME LOWLIFE??!", he roared while shaking my body violently before throwing me to the floor like those disgusting, black trash bags one throws into even stinkier containers. Pain soared through my nerves as the bones of my left side made contact with the ground. Luckily, my arms shielded my head, so it only felt like being stabbed a hundred times in every part of my body but my head.

I coughed, able to breathe again while slumping out of his reach scraping my elbows on the rough, tiled floor. A trail of bloody droplets lay behind me. The adrenaline pumped through my veins and even though I just wanted to cry, I needed to escape this monster of a man.

Click.

I slowly looked up. Into the opening of a small handgun.

"I read the letters."

He pressed the steel to my temple that felt like a gate to hell. Cold like the embrace of the grim reaper as if his scythe caressed my skin and sickeningly slowly pressed down on the artery in my neck.

"I read them all!", he thundered, obsession glinting like coals in his dead eyes, "you won't get away. Ever! You belong to me! And me only! If I can't have you, neither can he."

Before another click could sound, a sizzle filled the room.

The turkey burned.