⚠️ Warning!!⚠️
⚠️ Contains mature content such as smut, violence, language and drug use⚠️
18+ recommended
Death is real, no one is safe and the prettiest girls have the darkest secrets. While the nicest guys have the coldest hearts.
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The sound of my own blood thumping and rushing through my ears was deafening. As I shifted against the sheets my eyes shot open and I immediately sat up. As my eyes darted in every corner of my room but my heart didn't calm down. My room was empty except that now a row of elaborate gifts bags sat lined up against the wide wall underneath the mounted television. Swiftly I crawled out of bed. On my knees I pushed my hands underneath the heavy mattress and retrieved the two black steel hand knives gifted to me from Ryu. A hand gun or rifle would be too loud and my neighbors would immediately freak out and call the police. I knew better than anyone that I wasn't in the right head space to deal with the police or any kind of authority right now.
Getting rid of a body would be so much easier.
With a blade in each hand I silently headed to my bedroom door that sat open, only a crack and I listened. For something.. movement or talking. As I stood there waiting for something that probably wasn't even there.. I began to question my sanity.
I couldn't have imagined it
Could I?
" Just make it happen" a deep voice demanded and my hands tightened as I recognized it. I could never forget this voice but it couldn't be real. Pulling open the door I was careful not to make a sound as I made my way down the hallway. The faint smell of delicious homemade food lingered in the air and was surely cold by now. There appeared to be no one else here besides the man and as I followed the sounds of the voice it led me directly to the kitchen. Two plates of food sat on the island across from the other, untouched and the man stood at the patio door gazing outside as he held a phone to his ear. I couldn't help but stare, even his back was familiar. It was as if time froze and the man in front of me had never left. He was dressed in a pressed camel colored suit jacket, casual jeans and suede loafers on his feet. His dark hair was still curly, cut short. From the angle I stood I could see the face of the jaguar tattooed on the back of his hand.
" Yeah? And what did you find out?" The man spoke into the phone and I swiftly stepped forward pressing each blade against his back. One at his spine and the other exactly where his liver was.
" Who are you?" I asked as the man stiffened.
" Let me call you back"
Without a worry in the world the man hung up the phone and glanced over his shoulder.
" Good to see you up lil light, you must be feeling better"
" Do not call me that, you have no right.. no right to come into my home.. pretending to be my father in some kind of sick ploy to get me to show mercy"
" I'm not pretending and it's not a ploy or a trick"
My hands tightened on the handles as I pressed harder into his back.
