Killing the Dead

Eris has always felt weird, out of place, and lost in her life. She is alone, apart from her brother Ciel, because of her eyes (left eye purple, right blue) and her unfriendlyness. But she is deadly smart, cunning, clever and curious. One day her curiosity goes too far...and she is sent into the world where the humans kill the dead...otherwise known as the Dead Hunters!


9. Who?

If only the bathroom fog wasn't there, then maybe I could see a face. How high does he put the heat, I wonder? To make that much steam to the point where you can't see? Is he crazy? Then I recall the knife above my chin, and all thoughts wash away. I get scared, but I'm quiet. There's a big chance that the boy can't see me either. He speaks and I flinch, because it's a voice rougher and thicker than I remember.

     "You think you can play around, huh, kiddo?" The knife in his hands weave around my face, choosing where to cut first. "Don't play with the living, kid, or else. Or else you might get hurt." The blade's side rests on my cheek, sending chills through me. I breathe deeply. "You think you're funny. You think you can outsmart me, a Dead Hunter. C'mon, you know you'll never get away with it." He seemed to be enjoying this. I didn't want him to. So I think of the best comeback.

  " know what you think?" I say between breaths. The boy seemed amused by this little turn. "What, kiddo? What do I think?"
  I say, "You, Mr, think you're smart." Sweat trickles down my face. "But!" At this I lean over and bite his arm as hard as I can. While he flinches in pain and surprise, I log roll over to the parallel wall, away from him, and I stand, ready to reach for the door. But out of the fog, long, pale arms hug me-- or attack me-- from behind. I try to shrug him off, but he's too strong. His grasp is tight and painful. He's wet head rests on my shoulder, and I can register a small scar on his chin. This reminds me of something, but the placing of a knife on my forearm brings me to.

  The boy says, "I like you, kid. Maybe if you were alive, we could be friends. But you're not alive, and that makes you the enemy." His squeeze tightens around my struggling body. And the worst thing possible happens. He digs his blade into my elbow, pulling down. I scream. "Let go!" I shout. "LET GO!" I see the thick red substance leak out of the deep slash he made, onto the floor. "Sorry, deady. It was nice knowing you." He lifts me up and throws me on the floor, making the blood from the injury he gave me spread out across the bathroom floor. I scream, flailing around, calling for help. I expect the boy to leave the room, and leave me there, calling or help. But I hear no slamming of doors. Instead I see a figure looking at my thrashing body, or not my body, exactly, but my blood. He whispers, "She's bleeding...Oh my God..." Then he opens the door, letting some of the steam out. I register in the back of my mind that he's basically naked except for the boxers he's wearing. But at the moment it didn't really matter.

     The fog in the room had disappeared. I was losing too much blood, as the pool of the red liquid poured out of the gash. Now I can see the boy, his auburn hair, his amber eyes wide at the sight of my identity being revealed. No doubt he remembers me. I see the scar on his chin, and I take a closer look at his ear. Yep. Under it I can make out the small squares. I'm 100% sure. This boy is Axel Maddox.

   I have stopped flailing. I breathe deep and hard. Then I say, " bastard." He looks at me. "You...BASTARD!" I look at him with pure hatred. "Help me. Help me...goddammit. Please. Please. Do something." My sight gets blurry, then everything goes black.

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