Page 58
Story: Outcasts (Badlands 3)
As we closed in, I realized it wasn’t pain I was hearin.
Blue made a sound of disbelief, shaking her head. Two people were fuckin in the midst of all this. I reckoned they didn’t know what was goin on for that same reason.
I debated for a millisecond if I should let the chick live, but nah. Fuck all of that; I was takin no prisoners.
They didn’t see me, until it was too late.
By the time the man realized I’d entered the small cell and gotten the full view of his freckled ass, there was nothin he could do.
I went in full force.
I was on his back with my blade slicin into his throat, making him bottom bitch. He tried to fight back for half a second, the blade sliced deeper, right through arteries, tissue, and muscle. His cock was still nestled between the woman’s legs he’d been screwin, and as his body jerked I wondered if this would be considered necrophilia on her end.
Seein as they were on a dingy old cot, we didn’t all fit nice and comfortably together.
The man was making weird noises as he bled out. I shoved his head full of brown hair out of my way, and covered the woman’s mouth, mufflin her scream as blood sprayed us but, mostly all over her pretty blonde hair––shame.
“Someone’s coming,” Blue whispered, surprising the hell out of me by doing a similar move Katya had done.
She took over mufflin the blonde’s screams by yanking the dirty pillow out from beneath her head and slamming it over her face.
Jumping up, I rolled the man onto the floor as fast, and quietly as I could, then straddled the blonde. She fought like hell to free her face, Blue was stronger than she was though and my bloody knife goin through the bottom of her jaw solved our problem real quick.
The air she expelled was forced right into the crimson pillow. Blue jumped right over her, grabbed me, and pulled me behind the old rusty door just as another Venom entered.
Hawke.
I reacted instinctively.
He spun around to yell and saw me. There was only brief look of surprise that reflected on his face as my boot landed squarely in the center of his stomach.
He went backward, trippin over the body, and goin down. When he attempted to bounce back up he slipped in the blood of his friend.
It covered his shirt, arms, and jeans. I clenched my white-turned-re
d dagger between my teeth, knowing I would need both hands, and charged.
“Wait,” was all he got out.
I managed to hit him hard enough that his head smacked against the stone floor when he fell back again. I straddled him, but because I was just as slippery as he was, I couldn’t get the grip or angle I needed on the dagger due to his struggling.
I wrapped both my hands around his damn throat and squeezed. I squeezed with everything in me, digging my nails into his skin and feeling my muscles burn.
I blocked the veins responsible for the oxygen flowing to his brain, knowing it would start to swell as he suffocated.
I watched the color drain from his face and the calipers burst beneath, the skin, making it look like he was bleeding from the inside out.
I waited as his blood pressure plummeted, his heart struggled to beat, and his lungs seared with the burnin sensation I knew all too well when they were deprived of air.
I watched the life leave his body, and mine felt elated. He dropped down with a quiet thump. I simply stared at him. After a second I spat in his face and stood up with Blue’s assistance.
“He got off easy,” she mumbled, clearly picking up on my body language. I briefly wondered if that was from personal experience, but we didn’t have time for conversation.
“Come on,” I said, removing the bloody knife from between my teeth. I rolled my lips together to rid them of the taste.
We left the room behind, heading down the remainder of the hall. The prison seemed oddly quiet, all a sudden.
I knew he was behind me without havin to turn around.
Table of Contents
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- Page 58 (Reading here)
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