Ive pov
I could feel the aggression kicking in. I held her by her waist, my hand pressing into her skin, filling in the invisible gap. Her lips quivered and my gaze was drawn down. Intensely, she stared into my eyes. My heart wreaked havoc within my chest. All thoughts disappeared out of my mind, feeling how dangerously close her lips were to mine. My sinful hand cupped her neck, filthing it. And her lips finally touched mine. For seconds our lips didn't move, just stayed there. It felt...magical as I closed my eyes and savored the moment. My free hand pulled her waist as her hand traveled my arm to my neck. This woman got my first and second kiss. But was I her first? No... Suddenly she was cold. So cold.
Her palms flattened against my chest, her eyes turned cold and into slits. She pushed me away again. This can't be happening. Maybe I needed my pills. Something to take the edge off. My fingers ran through my hair, pushing my hair backward along with them to the back of my neck. Just a taste. A little taste. I pulled away, catching up my breath. A part of me wished to continue as my life depended on it. A feeling of anger and heat flashed through me. The room felt small and claustrophobic, trashy, people swaying, killing and my anxiety threatening to come to the surface. I was in the middle of chaotic cram people. The dizziness knocking my head full on.
I needed to kill someone. Her.
One moment, my fingers held on the knife tightly. The next moment, I stabbed her stomach earning a scream as the tip of the blade sank deep enough. That didn't calm my nerves. I hate it when I get like this. Blood, red hot liquid, torture were my happy thoughts. But even my most intimate and thrilling murders don't help me. My heart was loud, heavy breaths. I could hear it bumping against my chest wall. I felt stupid when I thought she could hear it as well.
I shifted my eyes to her.
Relief flooded me, a wide smile on my lips at the sight of her blood trickling down the knife, staining her pale yellow dress, a patch of crimson spread across the fabric. I ignored the bullet by an attacker which collided with my protective jacket. Marco shot him in the head, right in between his eyebrows with Calvin and Ben covering me from both sides.
'Good job boys.'
They had to be the best since I trained them.
Looking down at the knife stuck in her, her hand went curling around it, letting go of the dagger she was holding. So, she was with Gasper. She pulled out the protruding object and threw it away. 1...2...3 and she kneeled down. It already paralyzed her lower body. If she didn't die from blood loss, she would die from the poison. Her body fell on the floor on her side with a thud. Slowly, as it will reach all her blood vessels, all the internal organs will fail. Full paralysis. In the meantime, she would struggle to breathe, she would feel excruciating pain two times more than labor pain...just an example.
Maybe, similar to someone stepping on your delicate broken leg before putting a cast on. I don't know any examples anymore. I don't feel pain anymore but it's painful to people who usually do feel it. I knew it from experience. It gives me immense pleasure to watch humans suffer till they die. The way they feel that pain calmed my nerves, eased my breath. It gave me solace and peace. In exactly 10 minutes, she'll die. Shallow breaths exited her mouth. She pulled out a whine, water welling up in her eyes and falling down her face.
Shit.
What did I do? Staring down at her, I blinked and my stomach clenched. I breathed out slowly, feeling my heart beating loudly and the world around me numbing. My lips quivered as I saw her stained figure. I knew how this would end. With her death.
"No. Oh no"
My knees turned weak. Before I could catch myself, I was kneeled next to her, attempting to calm her blood with my bare hands. A heavy feeling weighing down on my chest. It was suffocating. My breathing was strained. It couldn't steady the whirlwind of emotions inside of myself. I gulped a large breath of air.
Don't die. She can't die.
"Don't die woman" I said, my panic rising.
I began to shake her and shake her again. As I watched the woman lying in my arms who will be a corpse in a matter of minutes, tears of my own build in my eyes.
"I'll fix it, I swear. Just breathe for me" I pleaded.
I felt so desperate.
"You hurt me" she whispered, barely audible but I heard her.
Those words were cutting through my flesh. They were ice. I would never hurt her. But I did. My hands were shaking as I held her wound to stop the gush of blood from spewing out. I struggled to keep my breath steady and keep the tears in my eyes to not fall. She was looking at me, her eyes so blue and still so serene however they were filled with an odd emptiness. They lacked warmth.
"I'm sorry"
It made my guilt lighter. The word came off my tongue, made me less frustrated.
Am I guilty of stabbing her? Not really. I needed control of myself. I felt like a helpless object, frozen. I felt ashamed of myself. Disgusted by what I had just done to her. Immense hatred for myself. I felt so damn weak and small. It was all my fault for her state. I watched as the blood continued pooling out of her through my fingers. Tears pricked my eyes. I looked down at my hands. Thick globs of blood dripped from them. I felt all my senses run out of me. She looked like a doll with those blank eyes.
"Ive let's get the hell out of here!" Someone I believe Ben, struggled to shout as if he was drained of all his energy, pulling me by the arm.
His voice snapped me out of my thoughts as I felt my eyes widening, shaking my head as I staggered backward. She wasn't HER. I blinked my eyes several times. Relief flushed the arteries in my heart. I shaked my head as I felt dizzy, holding Ben as support. Nevermind. I didn't know why I was getting so worked up about just a woman dying. Even if she would have been her. Big deal!
"Do you think you really deserve to be? Was it worth it, given your filthy job?" I asked her.
I was genuinely curious. No reply. Don't even bother.
"Blame her for your death" I added.
A human is really too easy to kill. I glanced over to make sure Gasper hadn't run off. He was still there holding a bloody cloth on his scalp as he was being shielded by three of his men. The latters were struggling to protect him from my men who were attacking them as hungry predators. Bald freak. I believed I just smirked at the satisfying view.
"Out of here" I ordered Trov and Ben.
They took me out of that crazy night box. As we stepped outside, the sky had delved into a dark canva. My vision went blurry against the cold wind as it brushed against my facial skin. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open. The chill of the night sobered me to some extent as my driver, Dave raced the car to halt in front of me. I opened the door of the passenger seat. I was surprised when the sirens were heard. How could the police enter the scene this soon? I fed that bastard a chunk of notes and he still couldn't take care of the timing. He should be dealt with later nicely. Nobody should see my face. Trov stood up before me so his head would camouflage my face.
Clacking sound and I knew a policeman was aiming his weapon at us and Trov was shot dead. Trov. They're going to pay for your death buddy. I entered the car. Dave banged on the gas, throwing me against my seat.
"Gasper mustn't die. I need him alive"I said, taking deep breaths in between the words.
I buckled up my seatbelt. My body slamming into the dashboard would not be a good sight indeed.
"Let him escape. Don't let the police catch him" my voice came out strangled and as a whisper.
As I looked down at my bloodied hands as though they weren't mine, I saw saturated red liquid rolling from my left arm down to the heels of my hand. Whose blood is this? Is it mine? I must have been shot in the arm somewhere. A strange thought occupied my mind though I have been trying hard to ignore it. What if that woman was actually her? That weight fell back on my chest, making me feel so wrong. Nothing could compare to the emotions I had felt when I saw her with that piece of metal I pierced into her skin with when realization struck upon me.
"Sefaaaaa" the name came out as a faint breath.
I thought I had killed her. I had felt such remorse and shame at my action. Maybe, I was thankful that I hadn't stabbed her for real to later realize this feeling, feeling all the more agitated with myself about how I could have lost her for good. I had no idea why I was overeating and being oversensitive. Death is a natural process and I was just doing the job of a ripper. She can't live forever. The moment she set her feet into Paradise, her death was destined by my hands. I was enraged at how much she affected me, made me weak. I want to make her weak, feel the way she made me feel today. I want to hurt her as much as she did. I know, I should not think this way but my heart can't help but wonder in fear and anxiety what if all of this was to get over? What if there would come a moment when I didn't get to touch her like I did now, or didn't hold her like I did now?
Stuttered breaths seethed out of me. Air wasn't reaching my lungs. I couldn't breathe.
"Ive..."
"...Stay..."
I heard faint and distant voices in the background, maybe Calvin and Ben...with Dave stepping more on the gas pedal through the intersection, not bothering to stop at red lights. Dave abruptly steered the wheel. The car's tyres made screeching sounds which pierced through my brain. I shut my eyes tightly.
I recalled my memories with her; her rosy cheeks, her straight platinum blond hair, her mischievous smile, her cheeky smile, that someone who is so dear to me as I hung onto my last shred of consciousness grazing my thumb over my 'I' tattoo on my knuckle. What I told myself countless times! I'll find you and save you. I needed to get to her. I can't allow myself to die just yet.