The ugly ass guy prints his fingerprint on the book only seconds before I've thrown my knife directly in the centre of his forehead.
I ignore the spray of blood on my autobiography and turn to Anderson instead.
With one hand I direct his lips to mine, holding the back of his neck in what I hope is a painful grip, with the other I clench my boiling fury into my fist and hope it doesn't escape.
His lips seem almost familiar now, it'd been about two days but too much killing and kissing had happened in that time for them not to be.
He was smug about it.
And he wasn't a bad kisser either.
Both of which teased the fire brewing in my chest.
I shove him away when the lingering dead is pulled from my being. I shove him so violently his back collides with a nearby tree.
"Death wait!" Anderson calls to me after I'd stormed off a little further into the woods.
I whip around to face him again, my face not quite so blank as it usually is. I'm sure anyone else who saw it would faint.
But not Anderson. The stubborn mutt didn't bat an eyelid or succeed in hiding his smug smirk from my evil eyes.
"I'm really the only one that can get you off now?"
I glare at him.
I storm away without another glance back.
He of course isn't far behind. Following like a little puppy. Always by my heel.
At least I know the mutts somewhat trained now. Just didn't keep his mouth shut.
We spend a while walking, it had been a long trip after all. He stays by my side, occasionally laughing to himself and brushing against me.
He tries to hide his smile. He can't.
It isn't long before we bump into another pack of hybrids. They've been trying to hunt us after the death of the wizards.
Without wizards no more witches can be created.
They didn't get far with us though, they were dropping like flies.
I let out some of my frustration through the knifes that extend from my hands like limbs. They slice and plunge and paint the trees around us with red splatters.
It's over too soon and once again I'm walking towards Anderson.
But he backs away.
With that fucking smirk of his.
"Wipe that smirk off your damn face Anderson or I'll do it for you."
He laughs and backs away further.
The fury inside me feels like a volcano, so much so that I can feel Nick trying to nudge himself into my brain and calm me down.
It doesn't work. Of course it doesn't fucking work. I'm fuming.
Red washes over my senses.
Connecting my eyes with Anderson's I finally see a slither of fear sneak it's way into his expression.
I see the smirk fade seconds before he attempts to say something.
I hear his voice. I hear it's deep, smooth caress against my body like silk.
But it's only noise and nothing makes sense, not now.
Red like their blood.
Red like his.
Red like the pleasure he's denying me.
Red like his lips.
I take a step forward.
YOU ARE READING
I Am DeathFantasy
From one of Nick's vile creations to another, I suggest you get comfortable because what you're about to read might just change your perceptions of life. I am the third of seven creations, sent from the higher power to eradicate all evil from this d...