as if something holy has landed in town.
My next class is Sociology. When I walk in, no one is inside. It’s only empty chairs and a screen. I turn around, searching for any human presence.
Was it canceled?
I really need to start checking the college’s website more frequently.
“Is anyone here?” When no one replies, I head for the exit.
The door hisses shut in my face. I try the intercom, but there’s no response.
What the hell?
I grip the handle and pull. Nothing. It’s like it’s made of steel.
“Come on, open—”
The lights go out. The entire room gets swallowed in punishing darkness.
My heartbeat picks up as I lose an essential sense—sight.
“Hello?” I hate how my voice trembles on the word. “This isn’t funny.”
I thrust my hand into my bag, fishing for my phone.
A bang sounds on the wall.
I flinch and my phone drops to the ground. The unmistakable crack of the screen echoes in the air.
“Shit.” I crouch, my hands feeling around blindly.
Light bursts into the projector like an old movie. It shines onto the opposite wall.
I gasp, freezing in my crouched position.
Black words in a bloody font flash on the white walls. They pass so fast as if planning to give me epilepsy. I’m about to close my eyes when the words start registering.
I. Am. Coming. For. You. I. Know. What. You. Did. Blood. On. Your. Hands. Murderer. Murderer. MURDERER.
I cover my mouth with both of my hands as the words repeat on a loop.
No.
This is some sort of a sick joke.
I stumble backward, my heel catching on the ground. I nearly fall, but I pull myself together and slam my palms on the door.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Someone help!”
I hit the door harder and faster until my palms sting and tears well in my eyes.
A ping sounds from near the projector.
I jerk, my hands turning sweaty. Perspiration slides down my temples and my neck and all the way underneath my clothes.
The lights continue flashing and flashing and fucking flashing.
I place both hands on my ears and slide to the floor.
“No, Mommy, no…don’t go…” A sob tears from my throat. “Mom…Rei…”
Darkness grips me by the throat before they can come for me.
There’s nothing more beautiful than seeing her fall.
You know that moment when human beings lose all hope? When doors slam in their face and they just…drop?
That’s what Reina does. Even her fall is graceful. She fought, I give her that. She screamed and wailed. She cried and kicked.
But no amount of tears will get her out of my mind.
She’s already trapped. She’s already done for.
I stand above her unmoving body. She fainted on the ground, eyes screwed shut and some of her mascara smearing over her pale cheeks. Both her hands still cover her ears as if she can stop the voices from barging in.
I crouch beside her and stroke a blonde strand behind her ear. Her lower lip twitches and I give in to the urge to touch those lips, to run my thumb along them.
They’re soft, full, and begging for my dick between them.
As if reading my mind, they slightly part. I groan deep in my throat.
Sex appeal.
Something Reina has in spades and uses to her advantage every chance she gets. I thought I was immune, but I’m not.
Because right now, I want to strip her bare and fuck her raw.
She’s getting under my skin again. She can’t get under my fucking skin.
I place a hand over her closed eyes and the other over her nose and mouth, cutting off her breathing.
Her lifeline.
The only things keeping her in this world.
This could end now.
Everything will be over. I’ll get what I want and she’ll get what she deserves.
Her slender body bucks off the floor due to the lack of oxygen. Her nails claw at my arms and her legs kick with the ferocity of life.
As much as she sometimes hates this life, she sure as fuck fights for it.
She’s a fighter, Reina. A survivor—but that won’t last for long.
Kill her.
Now.
I close my eyes and slowly remove my hand from over her mouth. Her gasp for air is choked and unrestrained, as if she’s been dying and is now coming up for air.
She doesn’t deserve such an easy death.
Not yet.
Her body slumps back down and her arms fall on either side of her.
A commotion comes from the other side of the door.
I stand up and memorize her broken form, committing it to memory.
“It’ll all be over soon,” I say. “It’ll all be over.”
It’ll all be over