Violently Beautiful [5] Markless

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Thank god, I think limping into my bedroom. Luckily, using my mad ninja skills I got past dad without being seen and straight into heaven. I can just see it, hot water, clean skin, soap washing away all those demon germs. Au revior, down the drain they go. Grinning like an idiot at the mental picture, I stumble into the en suite and begin peeling the damp sweaty clothes from my body. Sighing, I drop what's left of my favourite jeans to the tiled floor and wrap a white towel around myself. Waiting for the water to heat up, I walk to my dresser in search for a pair of warm woollen pyjamas and do a little victory jig when I find my mickeys. I gut me-self a pair o' matchin' pj's ma, demon my ass. Chuckling, I place my mickeys beside the basin, the mirror reflecting my left arms actions.

Halfway towards the shower I stop dead and do a second take on what I just saw. No way. Scrambling back towards the mirror, I slip on the watery tiles but make it back to the basin un-scathed. Wiping the steam from the mirror, I glare disbelievingly at my left arms reflection. No fucking way. I quickly lean forward to get a better look, but smack my head on the reflective surface. "Ow." I mumble, rubbing my forehead. Got me self some brain damage too ma, I think while snapping my head down to look at my left arm again. I can't believe it, yep, brain damage. Shaking my head, I close my eyes and re-open them only to see the same thing.

Nothing. My arm was bare of any red marks, free of blisters and no obvious signs of swelling.

"Well, shit." I mutter, rubbing my forehead. Maybe I just imagined that a demon chick knocked me around and murdered a taxi driver. Nah, it felt too damn real to be my imagination. Fuck, I should just go ahead and say she tickled me to death with a fricken feather. At least then I wouldn't be stuck with all these damn problems and a miraculous healing arm.

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