4 - Lost

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"And.. there she is." An unfamiliar, deep voice started. "I'm surprised we really had to beat your friend up to let you come here."

My eyes twitched everywhere, but I couldn't find the person talking. "Who are you?"

"That is the question." He sighed. "A Crank, a leader, a killer... it's what you prefer, Jane."

Especially the word killer made me frightened as hell. "How do you know my name?" I asked before moving my hand toward my waistband, ready to grab the knife.

In a split second, a figure appeared in front of me and grabbed my arm. "Don't even think about it." He stopped me from getting a weapon.

"How do you know who I am?" I repeated, stammering.

"Oh, everybody knows your name, Dear." His dark eyes met mine, but that was the only thing I saw. He wore a black ski mask and black clothes, which were the only things I saw.

"And what you look like.."
I felt something sharp go on my neck, making my breathing hitch and panic in my chest worse.
"Your age.." He continued slowly. "Who your friends are.."

"How?" I swallowed before the man got the chance to continue.

He laughed evilly. "Oh, oh, oh... you don't know yet?"

My face paled. "Know what?"

He leaned in and started whispering. "They're after you, Jane. WICKED's after you."

"Are you one of them?" I asked, almost breathless.

The man laughed once again and I felt the sharp, cold thing, which I assumed was a knife, trail down to my collarbone.

I could feel every hair on my skin move up, a shiver going down my spine. I didn't even know if I would make it out alive.

"We're not one of them." He admitted. "We're ones that wants you."

"Wants me?" I breathed, hoping it was not what I thought it would be.

He sighed. "Jane, Jane, Jane.. you don't understand a thing, do you?" He paused when I didn't reply. "How do you think it's possible we know what you look like?"

I shook my head in fear. "I don't know."

"How do you think we found you?"

The tears started to form in my eyes by the time. "I don't know," I whispered, moving my chin up and away from the knife.

"How do you.." He raised his voice now. "How do you think everyone knows what you look like?"

"I don't know." I cried out for the third time.

He let out a grunt and pushed the knife deeper into my skin, almost cutting through. "Why do you think they're after you, Jane?"

I closed my eyes, ready for him to stab me or whatever. "I don't-."

"Because you're bad!" He interrupted loudly. "And do you know what you're worth?"

"What?" I looked at him again, frightened.

"Oh, you're worth a lot." He smiled annoyingly. "Thousands of money.. and one single bottle of the most wanted thing right now.."

"A cure to the Flare." I realized in a whisper.

But there is no cure.

"Exactly!" He clapped his hands, making me flinch as the knife dropped to the ground. "And now... I'm thinking about the flyer I saw... trying to memorize it."

I took a short breath, my whole body shaking from the pure fright.

"I'm not sure if they said alive.. or dead.." He muttered. "But I'm sure it won't matter that much. As long as we get our price for bringing you, it's good, am I right?"

"No." I shook my head lightly.

"No?" He raised his eyebrows and walked around me threateningly. "Wouldn't you rather get over with it easily instead of the hard way? I'd rather not kill so many innocent people like your friends just for you to be convinced."

"Don't hurt them," I ordered quietly before moving my muscles a bit, ready to die. "Just get it over with."

He laughed so loud it annoyed me. "Oh, god, Jane." He never stopped snickering, like he found it all so funny while I just stood there, shaking. "After what you did... I don't think you deserve much of a peaceful, quick death... stab, shot.. whatever."

"After what I did?"

He stared at the knife on the ground for a few seconds, but didn't grab it. "You ruined it! You ruined the trials! You ruined everything for them to get a cure!" He screamed.

I flinched and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a spark of guilt deep down inside.

"All those people are suffering, yet you only care that you and your friends are safe!" He bent down and grabbed the knife. "So if you don't cooperate, things will be harder, Jane.."

He moved my shirt up a bit and put the sharp point on my side, slowly pushing it into my skin. I screamed out in pain when he trailed it up, making a deep cut.

It hurt so badly. I could feel the knife go in me like it was cutting through bones. The trail the knife left stung and I felt the thick blood run down my leg, painting my pants red. The smell of it filled my nose, making things even worse.

Almost my legs gave up, but he yelled for me to stay still and obey while I cried and screamed even more, hoping someone would hear it.

Once he pulled the knife out with a flashing sound, he cupped my face with one hand and wiped some tears off my cheek with his thumb.

"How does that feel, Jane?" He whispered, grinning. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy t-."

With all the energy I had, I interrupted him by hitting him on the nose and then pulling my knife out as fast as possible.

A bit taken aback, he looked up and didn't even get the chance to do something before I threw the knife, which landed right into his chest.

I gasped loudly, mouth falling open when the man's eyes turned lifeless.
The realization soon hit me. I had killed someone. He was trying to kill me, but still. I killed someone.

His blank eyes stared at me before he fell backward, onto the ground. I didn't bother to pull the ski mask off, but just wanted to get away from his pool of blood fast, so pressed my hands on the hurtful, deep slice on my side and started walking back, wincing and crying sometime. It was hard to walk, but I could do it.

𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫 ✭ DTC love triangleWhere stories live. Discover now