Page 23 of Things Get Dark
Ihiss as hedraws another line in my flesh, deeper than the last on my collarbone. It’ll need stitches, if I make it out of this alive. I look at the window of the door and wonder briefly if Kai will do them for me. There is no one there right now.
Slowly, cautiously, I reach my arms around, feeling for anything that can help me and curse myself for throwing it all. I stretch out as far as I can without distracting him from his fixation. When my fingers brush a cool cylindrical object, a crazy idea hits me.
“They are here you know, outside the door, waiting for the opportunity to kill you.” I whisper. The knife stills, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the crimson that now seeps into the collar of my top. Six lines of fire including the ‘papercut’ on my neck are slowly depleting me of lifeforce. More will follow, unless this works.
“You’re lying.” My smile is knowing and his gaze shifts to mine.
“It doesn’t matter to them if I die, but their business, well, they can’t have mistakes. A murderer on their staff isn’t somethingthey can overlook.” I don’t know if I believe my words or not, what matters is if he believes them. He looks unsure for the first time, and inside I’m screaming for him to take the bait.
“Why haven’t they come in yet?” His tone is somewhat smug, but his head turns, just barely to see if he can see the window from his periphery. He can’t, he would need to move, turn fully to see behind him, giving me an opportunity.
“Why not ask them?” I know he won't get up and ask, but that’s not what I need. I just need him distracted.
I want to live.
Finally he shifts his body, spinning around to face the door, the knife moving with him away from my body. I take in a breath, this is it. It’s time to fight. The paperweight is clutched tightly in my hand at the ready. I have never been more thankful than feeling the ball shaped weight that had rolled its way back to me.
With all the momentum I possess, I slam the glass weight into the back of his skull. The thwack of it connecting is a sickening sound, but I can’t think about it as I raise it again. He needs to drop that knife. I need to fight.
I don’t know how the thing had survived the impact the first time, nor the second, but on the third, when my captor turned his head with a roar, it smashed into a million pieces into his face. I close my eyes from the spray of glass, feeling some catch my skin. The crack of his nose is clear in the room, and so is the sound of the knife dropping to the floor.
Opening my eyes, I desperately search the room, spotting the glint of metal and scrambling for it. Though difficult with a hefty man astride me, the desperate need to get there before he can spurs me on. He is howling, hands over his eyes, blood streaming from his nose, but I barely even take the information in as I grip hold of the weapon. Without thought, I plunge the knife into his body still atop me, again and again. Over and over.
A distant banging thunders through the room; I don’t stop. I keep thrusting the knife, I’m not safe. I need to fight. I feel the blood coating my hands, dripping down my face and through my hair, but I can’t stop. Not until I am sure I am safe.
It’s not until arms wrap around me, and the still body that drapes over mine has been dragged off me, that I realise I have been screaming.
Chapter Thirteen
Kai
Bathed in blood shelooks even more enrapturing than when I first laid eyes on her. Her body trembles, not cold, shock most likely. Crouched down to her, I brush a strand of messy brown hair, now soaked in blood, behind her ears, caressing her face, but she barely even registers me.
I vaguely recall being the same, my first time, but she shouldn’t be here. Not while the others remove his body. Her eyes are unfocused, but even she must understand what the rustle of tarp is for as my brothers begin cleaning up.
“Little mouse,” I coo softly at her. “We need to get you cleaned up; you don’t need to see this.”
“I killed someone.” A hiccupped sob comes before the tears do. I plop to the floor and pull her onto my lap, uncaring when blood soaks into me. It doesn’t matter. My clothes can be burned along with hers. We will probably burn as much as we can from this room. She doesn’t need to know.
Sergio moves in front of us, shielding any view from the red stained chaos behind. His lips tug down in a frown as he strokesher hair. We look at one another knowing we have to move her, but not wanting to rush her as she breaks.
It hurts me to see Lexi so shattered, as her sobs vibrate through my body and tears soak into my skin, but I know she needs to let this out. Let the violence and emotion out of her body or be left to feel numb. I could not do that to her. Each stitch on my body, every scar, a reminder, a fight against the numbness I battle daily.
Stitches I will soon need to share with her.
As her sobs begin to ease, I nod to Sergio, pushing her from me slightly and passing her to him. With ease, he raises her into his arms, cradling her to his chest as she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist and settles her face in his neck. I try not to see the similarities, but they are there of a time years ago he did this with me.
One fateful Halloween.
In a daze, I follow them, memories surfacing of the cruel men who came before us. As much as I try to shake them off, they raise their heads and scream to be acknowledged. That night had blood and death too, and Sergio had carried me.
To a freedom of our own making, to our playground of dark horrors.
Sergio finally puts her on her feet outside the caravan we use as our bathroom. The shower is a small thing, and it’s barely suitable for Abel, but it’s plenty big enough for her. As the three of us enter, I begin to strip off my own blood-soaked clothes. Lexi just blinks at me, so I move over and start to help her undress.
It’s not a sexual moment, this is a necessity. As I guide her into the shower, I take the washcloth, lathering it up, guiding it over her blood-soaked skin. I see nothing but what must be done. Red swirls down the drain and I know that we will need to bleach the place later, but for now, I concentrate on her.
A fluffy towel sits outside the shower, and I silently thank Sergio for his thoughtfulness as I had forgotten to bring one when I led her in. I wrap it around her, ignoring my own dripping body as I lead her to the bedroom only used as a wardrobe to scrounge up some clothes.