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“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Gwen bit her lip at her falsetto. Her normal voice was bell-like enough already. “But I think the mail guy might have dropped my package to the wrong door, and I just wanted to check to see if you’ve seen it?”
The man eyed Gwen as if she hadn’t cussed him out yesterday. No, he was eyeing her the way that Gwen fucking hated. Like she existed just for him to ogle her. The awkwardness was dragging, and her patience for his straying eyes was evaporating. He was starting to piss her off.
“I was expecting a doll,” Gwen went on, pivoting in the hopes he would finally respond. “I have a niece and her birthday is coming up.”
“Yeah, um, haven’t seen it,” her neighbor said.
You fucking liar,Gwen thought.You goddamn liar.
“Oh, really?” Gwen asked while fluttering her lashes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I would have remembered.”
Oh, this bitch.
What could she do now? Gwen could feel her temper growing but she could also feel something else. It was … odd. While she didn’t like it, Gwen had always been a highly emotional person. She was familiar with her feelings—more so than she was with people—and she tended to bury those. But the feeling that bubbled to the surface wasn’t one that made sense to her at all.
Threatened. That’s what it was, Gwen was feeling threatened.
But why? I’m not scared of this asshole.
Gwen didn’t have time to think on it further as the man stepped back and began to shut the door. Immediately, Gwen shoved her sneaker into the doorway, preventing him from closing it. Instead of demanding what Gwen wanted, like she thought he would, Sticky Fingers shoved the door harder. The abrupt motion put pressure on her foot, causing Gwen to gasp in pain.
“You asshole!” she exclaimed, dropping the falsetto.
“You’re crazy! Get away from the door or I’m calling the cops!”
Crazy?!
The accusation made Gwen livid. With a burst of energy, Gwen snaked her arm between the door and frame. It startled him as Gwen made contact just below his shoulder. He shouted, but Gwen ignored him as her nails dug in and dragged down his arm. She could feel something gathering under her nails, felt something wet as her neighbor flinched.
When the door gave way, Gwen crossed the threshold. Her neighbor had stumbled back into an apartment that looked a lot like her own. Gwen kicked the door shut behind her, surveying the apartment for the box. Luck was in her favor as she spotted the discarded box on top of the trash can, sporting the label with Gwen’s name on it.
“You stupid bitch—”
Embarrassment.
Gwen could feel embarrassment, but that feeling didn’t belong to her, she realized. As she drew closer to him, Gwen could feel it more strongly. No, not embarrassment exactly, but humiliation. It was heavy, like the smell of fresh bread from a bakery Gwen had frequented when she had been twenty. Even as the man stumbled into the kitchen, Gwen could practically taste the flavor of that bread on her tongue.
Her stomach ached as she watched him grab for a kitchen knife. It looked sharp, dangerous, but by the time he had thought to use it, Gwen was already on him. She had launched herself across the room like an animal, and he went down so quickly, landing hard on his back. The knife clattered to the floor nearby as Gwen straddled him. Even in his winded state, he still tried to push Gwen aside. A survivor’s instinct, one Gwen was more than familiar with.
“You really shouldn’t be stealing from your neighbors,” Gwen hissed. “It’s notnice.”
When Gwen pressed her fingers to his temples, her vision went blurry, but she felt it more strongly. The lingering taste of bread as it went down her throat, fresh espresso with a hint of cream, and the buttery flavor of a croissant. It was unlike anything Gwen had ever experienced before. All the euphoria of the very first bite of a freshly made meal after a long day’s work.
Gwen couldn’t get enough.
A sound in her ear was growing louder and louder. Gwen wasn’t sure what it was at first, until she realized it was him. He was screaming, and Gwen wasn’t sure why. Or maybe she just didn’t care. She didn’t stop until her body told her to.
Gwen slowly removed her fingers, and her vision began to solidify. The first thing she saw were her hands, but more importantly, the veins beneath. They were bright, like a neon sign. Teal and glowing beneath the pale tan of her skin, running from fingertips all the way up to her elbows. Gwen blinked at them curiously.
The second thing she noticed was her neighbor. He looked worn, as if stress had aged him from a moment before. His face was frozen in a moment of pure terror. Pale and gaunt, and most important of all…
Dead.
“Oh,well done,my bittersweet.”
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