Now, all heads have bowed down. Every single person, every single client who sat was now on their feet, with their heads bowed down.
I have never felt this way before. Never. Right now, a number of emotions parade inside of me.
Rage, fear, pain, courage, hate… All these hateful feelings curled and twisted inside of me.
But beneath all these, beneath this strong vehemence, I feel something else. Something I have not quite felt before. Something I am not quite sure what it's called.
And that thing, makes me quiver.
"Go on. Gut me." His voice once again is calm, and damn him! It is so pleasant to the ears. So, so pleasant.
His eyes do not waver, not even for a second. There is no form of fear in his eyes. There's nothing there at all. But just staring alone is enough to subdue even the strongest of men. And now I wonder if I'm being foolish for fighting.
But I cannot back down now… Not when he is the reason for my misery. He is the one who has separated me from my family.
And as much as I'll love to have hope and believe that they are all fine and safe, I had seen what happened in my world. I remember how people died.
The same fate could have befallen my family. I might be the only one of us remaing…
My hate is rising, as well as my breathing. I desperately want to end this man. I want to…
"Allow me," he says. And with a swift movement, too quick for me to even notice, it wasn't even in a blink of an eye because I can't remember blinking. His hand is on mine, and his head is bent low to my level.
He has led my hand to his neck, pressing the rusted steel-pen into his flesh. His palm is almost three times my own. His hold is tight and firm, and his eyes… These terrifying eyes are staring right into mine.
I can hear the cries and gasps of the people around me. I can hear the circus master, Genna, the clients, Skye… But I can also hear myself gasp, as I start.
Can he maybe read my mind? Can he search and find my soul? Is he going to suck it out like the circus master has said? All these questions are going round and round in my head. For the look in his eyes don't give away anything about his thoughts.
It just seems like I'm staring directly at hell.
"Y_you destroyed my world!!"
"That I did." He agrees.
"Ahhh!" I'm mad. I know it. I'm crazy, stupid. Foolish, even. But I want to hurt him. For what he has done, I want to destroy him! For the evil he is, I want to end him!!
So without thinking, his hand still holding mine, I thrust the steel-pen deep into his neck. Fiercely, with hatred, with pain… With my eyes staring deep into his.
A sharp cry tears throughout the arena… But it's not his. It is Genna, followed by every other person in the arena.
I don't need to look to know that Skye is scared out of her mind now.
I keep a straight face—I think. But at least I'm trying to keep my face straight and firm and not show how shocked I am that I just stabbed a man. But my hands are betraying me, my hands are trembling beyond control.
But he, the one I just stabbed… beneath his mask, I can almost see a smile curl up his lips. He's_ He's a masochist.
"Seize her!! Now!! She just stabbed the King! Hold her, that imbecile!" The circus master calls, but then, he suddenly falls silent.
The man before me, the one I just stabbed had turned his head toward the screaming circus master, that's why he fell silent, and the other men remain where they are.
Now, while I'm still looking at him, battling the tears that will soon fall, all the while still trembling, he straightens up. Releasing my hand, the steel-pen stuck inside his neck. Blood oozing out, dripping over his simple white shirt.
"I've changed my mind," with a stressless yank, he pulls the pen out of his neck, as he speaks.
"I don't want her." He says simply, and I didn't hear him at first. But the words are starting to sink in my ears, and a wave of relief is pouring over me.
But then, as I look at the place at his neck where he pulled the pen from, my breath is quickening again. My eyes, dilates, and my lips parts wide open.
But, I do not think I'm breathing. How can I? When something that seems like sparkling blue scales just flashed on his neck, and the wound there is closing up right before my eyes.
For some reason, he takes out a white handkerchief from his pocket, wraps the steel-pen in it and dips it into his pocket. Then he takes a step closer to me. I won't shift back, I won't cower backwards_ but that is exactly what I am doing… I'm taking shaky steps backwards.
Once again, he bends to my level, his eyes staring at me as he says… "I'll have you instead."