Page 2 of Her Darkest Possession

The train jolts suddenly, wheels screeching against metal as we begin to move. Away from the city. Away from Anatoly. Away from everything.

Grisha's smile widens, his teeth gleaming like a wolf's. "Now we can really get acquainted," he says, his hand creeping up my thigh.

Grisha's hand inches higher on my thigh, and suddenly my stomach lurches violently. Not from fear but the actual nausea of the morning sickness I've been battling for days.

I feel the acid rising in my throat as his fingers continue their unwelcome journey upward. The combination of his touch, the train's motion, and my pregnancy hits me all at once. I can't hold it back.

A small amount of vomit pushes up my throat and onto my lips. I don't try to stop it this time. Instead, I let a few drops spill over, making a small gagging sound.

Grisha jerks back immediately, his face contorting in disgust. "What the fuck?"

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, genuine tears springing to my eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry," I whisper, lowering my gaze. "I don't feel well. Please... can I just wash up first?"

His eyes narrow suspiciously, traveling from my pale face to the small flecks of vomit on my lips. He hesitates, clearly disgusted but also suspicious of my intentions.

"Please," I add in my smallest voice. "I just need to rinse my mouth. I'll be quick."

After a moment, Grisha stands, his expression hardening with annoyance. "I'm coming with you."

He grabs my arm again, pulling me up roughly from the seat. Several passengers glance our way, but quickly look away when they catch Grisha's threatening glare.

"Don't try anything stupid," he mutters in my ear as we make our way forward towards the narrow aisle toward the bathroom at the end of the car. "Remember your sister."

I nod weakly, feeling another wave of nausea that isn't entirely fake this time. The swaying of the train car makes my stomach churn as Grisha propels me forward, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh.

As we near the bathroom at the head of the train car, my mind races. The gun in his pocket.

The train suddenly lurches around a curve, making me stumble. I don't fight the motion as I let it throw me off balance, stopping abruptly. Grisha, not expecting this, slams into my back.

In that split second of contact, I gather every ounce of strength I have and throw my head backward as hard as I can.

My skull connects with his nose with a sickening crunch. Pain explodes across the back of my head, but Grisha's howl tells me I've done worse damage to him. His grip on my arm loosens as he staggers backward.

"You fucking bitch!" he roars, clutching his face.

I don't waste the moment. I lunge for the door connecting to the next car, and yank it open with trembling hands. Cool air rushes past me as I stumble through the passage between cars.

My legs feel like rubber beneath me, but I force them to move. I crash through the door into the next car, nearly falling intoa startled passenger. The conductor is halfway down the aisle, checking tickets.

"Help!" I gasp, moving toward him. "Please, he has a?—"

Behind me, the door flies open. Grisha stands there in the space between the cars, blood streaming from his nose, his eyes wild with rage. His hand is in his pocket.

"DIE!" he shouts.

People around me shrink into their seats. The conductor looks up, confusion written across his face.

Then I see Grisha pulling the gun from his pocket.

The sound of the gunshot is deafening in the enclosed space. Then another. And another. Someone screams. I feel the bullet's heat as it whizzes past my ear.

Grisha keeps firing wildly, his face twisting in rage. People scream and duck as bullets tear through the train car. A woman across the aisle jerks backward, crimson blooming across her blouse. An elderly man slumps forward, his newspaper fluttering to the floor.

"No!" I scream, diving between seats.

The conductor who moments ago was my only hope staggers. There’s a confused expression on his face before he crumples to the ground, dead eyes staring at nothing.

My stomach heaves. Those people... they're dying because of me. Because I ran.