World Eater

61

ALZAR’S EYES SNAPPED OPEN, HIS BREATH CREATING A CLOUD ON THE GLASS. His face was pressed against a car window, his body tucked in a tight ball in the backseat.

Outside, trees sped by the window in dark blurs, the moonlight offering only minimal visibility. He squirmed, but his wrists were restrained, skin bound tight by a strip of white fabric.

Alzar’s breathing shifted harshly, the air catching in his throat as he struggled to breathe.

“What-Who-” he croaked, his vocal cords and brain unable to harmonize a sentence.

“Stay calm, Alzar,” a soft voice assured him.

Alzar caught sight of Fancy’s face in the rearview mirror, her mouth twisted into a gentle smile.

“You tied me up,” he whispered, more shocked than accusing.

“It was merely a precaution.”

Alzar twitched and fidgeted, the scabs on his back crawling and begging to be touched. “For what?” he asked, mouth dry.

“The demon, of course.”

“Demon?”

“I will explain in due time. Relax yourself, Alzar.”

The seat was hard against the back of his head as Alzar gnawed his lip, metallic blood flooding onto his tongue. There was a gap in his memories, a black spot between entering the gymnasium and waking up in a car. His clothes were filthy, covered in a sticky film.

Alzar rubbed his chest, trying to relieve the ache in his lungs. He froze, his wrists falling against an object peeking from his coat. He couldn't see it, but something came to light in his mind.

His gun.  

Alzar gasped for breath as everything rushed back to him at once: prom, the ridicule, the bodies, the blood…

He was a killer.

His stomach seemed to have been dunked in ice water as Alzar let out a cry, bashing his arms against the side of the car. He heaved, clashing his hands over his mouth.

“Miss Fancy, I need to- I think I'm gonna-”