Page 19
Story: Sweet Touch of Venom
The elevator doors expand, stopping on a floor with dirty green carpet and terrible lighting. Damp air, mildew, and the stench of urine combined set in my nose. Bile rises in my throat from the terrible blend. I swallow it down, covering my nose with my hoodie sleeve, finding the number to the apartment. Forgetting about the altercation and my paranoia, I walk past several doors until I’m at the spot. He’s probably not here since the building was evacuated. If so, I can stay until he gets back. From the sight of it, there is not a soul in the apartment.
Expecting the door to be locked, I still twist it, only to find it open and ready for me to go in. I wait a second, frowning deeper as I glance over my shoulder and down the hall.
Why would it be open? More than accessible for me to stroll in a slice off his face. Speaking of slicing, I reach for my hip, noticing the weight is lighter than usual. My hand touches an empty holster.
“Shit,” I grit through my teeth. I look down, sure I’m touching the wrong spot.
Empty.
My legs stiffen, taking in notice that my dagger is, in fact, gone. Son of a bitch. It was just on me. Where did it go?
I peered back down the hall, hoping to see a gold and black blade. My eyes spread wide, not catching anything.Dammit. I let out a frustrated groan. I’ll have to check downstairs before some kid gets to it and dies from poison.
Oh God, that’s a horrible outcome.
But fuck me, what ifthatdisaster is still awaiting me downstairs like an axe murderer, hiding next to the elevator shaft, ready to snap my body in half?
I can fight.My fist can hold its own, just like my dagger.
With my decision, I lean onto the door to push off, but it opens slightly, knocking into something hard, blocking the entrance.
My eyes squint. I push it again, and I’m met with the same resistance. I skate my view around, the door ajar, and I can get a glimpse of the inside.
Blood trails as if someone dragged a body. I push my weight harder into the door with a small grunt and stick my head inside. Oh, hell. My eyes grow wider.
Tractors’s body lies flat across the foyer with his legs splayed. Blood spills out from the bullet wedged right in between the crease of his forehead. His eyes are still open, and his face is slack, like he died pleading for his life.
This is not right. My breath comes out harder as I slam the door shut. I back away, looking around. This should not have happened. My throat becomes dry as I piece in the puzzles. Was he murdered before the city called in the water repair? I scurry off, speeding to the elevator.
Who the hell killed him? I jab onto the dirty elevator button at least twelve times before it opens with a ding. It could be some enemies he's been dealing with. Who really knows what he's gotten himself into with other people. Then again…
I think harder. That was fresh blood. This just happened not too long ago. At least ten to fifteen minutes before I arrived, and the only person who comes to mind is the random man jogging down the steps. Nothing seemed out of place with him, yet apparently the city called for water leakage, so what was Tractor doing here if that was the case, and why was the mysterious crazy man here if no one should’ve been here?
I blink, catching my breathing as I play out options, reasons, and fucking ponderwhy.
I’m going to figure this shit out because if someone has it out for my victims, then that’s a huge damn problem.
The elevator door swings open, and I don’t think of the man that may be skulking, waiting for me.
Part of me hopes he is, so I can kill him just for being annoying and me not getting the actual person I came for. I fold in my lips, stalking to the front doors, praying to the sky that my dagger is still there.
I get outside, and I’m hit with a gush of chilly air and no dagger. A chill runs down my arms and legs as I scream internally.
Shit.
This is all just going to utter shit. I would say a kid got it, but a twisted and logical part of me knows thatmantook it. And if he took it, then he better hope and pray that I don’t find him.
I glance back up at the apartment building, rolling my eyes. Looks like someone’s replaced with Tractor here and is now added to my kill list.
Chapter 7
Ronan
Death finds you easily.
Ifound them.
And it’s a she.
Expecting the door to be locked, I still twist it, only to find it open and ready for me to go in. I wait a second, frowning deeper as I glance over my shoulder and down the hall.
Why would it be open? More than accessible for me to stroll in a slice off his face. Speaking of slicing, I reach for my hip, noticing the weight is lighter than usual. My hand touches an empty holster.
“Shit,” I grit through my teeth. I look down, sure I’m touching the wrong spot.
Empty.
My legs stiffen, taking in notice that my dagger is, in fact, gone. Son of a bitch. It was just on me. Where did it go?
I peered back down the hall, hoping to see a gold and black blade. My eyes spread wide, not catching anything.Dammit. I let out a frustrated groan. I’ll have to check downstairs before some kid gets to it and dies from poison.
Oh God, that’s a horrible outcome.
But fuck me, what ifthatdisaster is still awaiting me downstairs like an axe murderer, hiding next to the elevator shaft, ready to snap my body in half?
I can fight.My fist can hold its own, just like my dagger.
With my decision, I lean onto the door to push off, but it opens slightly, knocking into something hard, blocking the entrance.
My eyes squint. I push it again, and I’m met with the same resistance. I skate my view around, the door ajar, and I can get a glimpse of the inside.
Blood trails as if someone dragged a body. I push my weight harder into the door with a small grunt and stick my head inside. Oh, hell. My eyes grow wider.
Tractors’s body lies flat across the foyer with his legs splayed. Blood spills out from the bullet wedged right in between the crease of his forehead. His eyes are still open, and his face is slack, like he died pleading for his life.
This is not right. My breath comes out harder as I slam the door shut. I back away, looking around. This should not have happened. My throat becomes dry as I piece in the puzzles. Was he murdered before the city called in the water repair? I scurry off, speeding to the elevator.
Who the hell killed him? I jab onto the dirty elevator button at least twelve times before it opens with a ding. It could be some enemies he's been dealing with. Who really knows what he's gotten himself into with other people. Then again…
I think harder. That was fresh blood. This just happened not too long ago. At least ten to fifteen minutes before I arrived, and the only person who comes to mind is the random man jogging down the steps. Nothing seemed out of place with him, yet apparently the city called for water leakage, so what was Tractor doing here if that was the case, and why was the mysterious crazy man here if no one should’ve been here?
I blink, catching my breathing as I play out options, reasons, and fucking ponderwhy.
I’m going to figure this shit out because if someone has it out for my victims, then that’s a huge damn problem.
The elevator door swings open, and I don’t think of the man that may be skulking, waiting for me.
Part of me hopes he is, so I can kill him just for being annoying and me not getting the actual person I came for. I fold in my lips, stalking to the front doors, praying to the sky that my dagger is still there.
I get outside, and I’m hit with a gush of chilly air and no dagger. A chill runs down my arms and legs as I scream internally.
Shit.
This is all just going to utter shit. I would say a kid got it, but a twisted and logical part of me knows thatmantook it. And if he took it, then he better hope and pray that I don’t find him.
I glance back up at the apartment building, rolling my eyes. Looks like someone’s replaced with Tractor here and is now added to my kill list.
Chapter 7
Ronan
Death finds you easily.
Ifound them.
And it’s a she.
Table of Contents
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- Page 2
- Page 3
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- Page 6
- Page 7
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