The Outsider

Chapter Four - Self Worth

A part of me was begging not to leave as my gun sat on the ground. It was telling me the moment I went through those doors and talked to the librarian, it'd lead my mind into a spiral, yet I still swiped my gun off the floor and holstered it as I took the first step. Even my body was protesting, legs numbing to the point I had to use the wall as support, leaving a thin trail of blood on the glass. Coming face to face (Or, more appropriately, eye to eye) with the neighbors just made me want to leave faster.

Their eyes told me they saw this as entertainment. Nothing more than a Saturday night special with live commentary. It disgusted me to think about it, but the line between them and me has been thinning each time we meet. Luckily once I flung myself into the previous cabin and shut the door, their backhanded compliments ceased.

"And, here I thought I was a monster." The librarian giggles as she stands off to the side, nonchalantly reading the book she tried to give me. "So innocent, yet so dangerous."

"Was that supposed to be an insult?" I scoff, still having difficulty getting a grip over my legs.

"Should you still be cynical, killer?" She smirks, milking out the last ounce of patience I had. "It's what you are, isn't it?"

"Look here, I only did it for...!" I cut myself short as I grew lightheaded and nearly banged my head on the support pole.

My breaths were shallow, too shallow to be my anxiety spiking up. While I wasn't bleeding profusely, the way, it worked in tandem with my growing fatigue made for a nasty surprise. How long has it been since I've gotten actual sleep? Or, better yet, when was the last time I felt hungry?

"You shouldn't have strained yourself, Grey." She chastises me as I try to staunch the blood. "Stressing over the little things will get you killed."

"Little, huh?" I huff, meeting her gaze head-on as she shuts the book. "What part was little about it? As you said, I'm dangerous, aren't I?"

"Naïve too, it seems." The librarian says, rolling her eyes in disgust. "If I didn't know better, I would have mistaken that bravado for narcism."

"Why's that?"

"When I said you were dangerous, I meant to yourself. You're like a ticking time bomb threatening to self-destruct at a moment's notice." She says as she saunters to me, holding the book tightly to her chest. "Then again, who wouldn't be unstable after willingly killing their friend without a second thought?"

"You take that fucken...!" I held back since it felt like I'd be playing into her words. "Tch, just... Just tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do."

Even if I had a decent argument, I'd just be fighting an uphill battle. It came down to whether I believed I was fucked up when I already knew the answer. I was practically using her as an anchor to vent on, and she was milking out my reactions for every ounce it was worth.

"Awww... That's no fun." She teases, wagging a finger in my face. "But, if you haven't guessed, we're coming to a stop soon."

"Define... soon." I frown as I look out the window, seeing the searing lights zip past.

"Oh, I don't know." She hums, quickly backpedaling into a cluster of tendrils that suddenly sprang from nothing and cloak her in a veil of darkness. "Give or take any moment now."

"Hey, where do you think you're going? Come-" I stammer before the screeching of metal deafens my voice, and I'm sent flying.

I could just close my eyes in horror as the walls compressed, crushing my bones. In that instant, nothing registered aside from the thought of wanting to breathe. As much as I desperately tried, being unable to tell whether I was sucking down air made it difficult. It made me envious that Paul had a cleaner death than this.