Chapter eight - Shark

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•𝔉𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔶•

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•𝔉𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔞 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔶•

"Fuck!" i yell in frustration, finally getting my wrist free. The bastard used my favorite blanket.

I'm going to kill him.

I lean down, my favorite shirt pressing against my thighs that are covered with blood and it ruins pretty much half of it. Now i'm even more pissed.

I free my ankles and i stand up, sharp pain hitting me in my legs, i hiss; grabbing the chunks of cotton from my now cut down blanket and covering the cuts to stop the bleeding.

He's already gone, so there's no use of trying to chase after him.

I'll find him, sooner or later. And god when i do? He's going to regret doing this to me.

I walk slowly to the guest bathroom, the more i walk the more unbearable the pain gets. But i make it and retrieve my aid kit. I close the toilet seat top and sit, removing the fabric slowly. I open the kit, getting a cotton pad and alcohol to clean the wound.

"Fuck," i hiss, gritting my teeth. I get the needle and the thread, sanitizing them before i put on gloves. The cuts aren't too deep, but they definitely need to be stitched up.

I'm doing this without numbing the area, so that every time i look at him i remember the pain he caused me, and then i'd hate him more than i already do.

A motive..To end his life.

I nearly scream when the needle gets through my skin, my hands start shaking but i wait until i calm down.

After two hours, both cuts are stitched up and my entire body is covered with sweat. I cover the wounds with big bandages and fall back against the toilet seat, my eyes getting sleepy. I take few deep breaths and stand up slowly, leaving the bloody mess behind. I don't bother going up stairs, i don't bother locking the door again; i just throw myself on the couch and fall asleep.

"I'm going to kill you, Damon." i mumble, closing my eyes.

In that moment, i vowed to myself that i would loathe him until the end of my life.

***

My brother trained me to be a ruthless assassin in the last year but it's just impossible for someone to turn into a cold-hearted killer from being raised to be an altruistic human being.

My mother always told me that the greatest people out there are the ones who learn how to be kind to others, and earning people's respect is the best gift a person could ask for. I lived up to that then and I still live up to it now.

I never wanted the life my brother forced me into, never believed in it. I found myself in the middle of it with no choice.

I would never admit that to anybody but if I'm being honest with myself I don't think I had the gut to kill Damon that first night. Yes, I wanted to hurt him, but I didn't want to end his life. I still don't, because that's not who I truly am. But if killing him means living then I'll do it, and it's the only motivation I have to pursue him and end his life. Also, there's this loathe that I have towards him that turns me into a violent person and I fucking hate it.

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