Death Is My BFF (Book 1 Original Series)

Chapter 46: Cruentus

Not me.

I sat up from the bed with tears in my eyes and sauntered over to the closet. I tore it open with aggression and peered inside. I needed to be comfortable. I couldn’t wear the constricting work outfit that itched against my skin.

I closed the closet and walked over to my large dresser. I pulled open the bottom drawer to reveal the hundreds of t-shirts I had let in the dark and sorted through them. After picking up dozens and remembering all the times I had wore them I finally found the one I wanted.

My batman’s wife shirt.

I tore the skin-tight blouse and slacks off and switched them with baggy sweatpants, my batman wife shirt, and then my purple fuzzy socks. I sat on the bed and faced the mirror with a small smile as I began to braid my hair into one solid fishtail, my eyes like fire, glued to the crumbled work outfit on the floor.

The heels would be fine to keep. They were stunning.

In one fluid motion, I hurried out of my bedroom, came back with scissors and cut the crap out of the blouse. I tore and ripped the slacks until my heavy breathing was the only sound in the room and the constricting work outfit was dead on the ground.

It wasn’t enough.

After searching through the drawers of the kitchen once again, I stormed back into my room, I grabbed the pieces of clothing and carried them to the window. I unlatched the window, climbed outside into the fire escape and stood there on the large metal grating, looking across at the Devin & Son. Wind blew my perfectly done black fishtail braid in the wind, which would have given anyone chills.

Not me.

I was burning with rage.

I took the lighter out of my pocket and lit the first slice of fabric, then dropped it to the seventy story drop. I did it again, again, again and again until every strip of fabric was out of my hand except for the slacks. With an ear crunching warrior cry I lit the slack pieces on fire and threw them like a football out into the street as I screamed some vulgar words involving David and his arrogance.

When I finished I leaned against the railing and readied myself to cry hysterically and run back into the apartment.

5…

4…

3…

2…

A slow, powerful clap rang from behind me. “Encore, encore.”

I whirled around ready to stab them with an invisible knife. Death was leaning against the brick wall of the apartment next to the window with a cigarette in his gloved hand and his large cloak unmoving in the storm-readied air.

“For some reason that whole tribal scene you had going on really turned me on,” his voice drawled. “Especially the part when you tore apart those slacks like a wild animal and screamed “Die pants, die!” He made a noise in his throat and shook his head. “So hot.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I was too tired to yell or scream at him to leave. It was best to just let him leave on his own, I decided.

“I’m a bird watcher,” Death said simply, yet seriously. He took a long drag of the cigarette and tilted his head up so he could blow little puffs of smoke into the air. “I just love birds. They’re just so majestically awesome, so free, and so dumb when they go off track and fly into windows…possibly die on impact, before falling hundreds of feet and smashing like a pancake onto the ground into a nice big pile of mush.” He took another drag and looked at me. I could feel his smirk. “Then there are those outstanding birds that never even glance at the window.”