chapter thirty seven

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With a roar similar to that of an enraged animal, you lunged at John with outstretched arms. The Baptist stumbled backwards in complete shock when your hands wrapped around his neck, a gasp leaving him as he fell on to the damp sand of the river bank.

All of your weight collided into the man's torso, stealing the air from his lungs. Panic squeezed at his heart when he felt his face begin to radiate with heat from the lack of oxygen rushing to his brain. Your grip around his throat was surprisingly tight, but then again he had never witnessed your strength until now.

John gazed up at you in complete horror, but he doesn't have the time nor the energy to try and understand why you were attempting to kill him. Black spots began to invade his vision as he felt his pulse thumping against his tightening windpipe. If he didn't get oxygen soon, he would surely pass out.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the Baptist sends multiple jabs with his fists into each of your exposed sides. A yelp of pain escapes you as your ribs ache from the abrupt punches, and John takes the distraction as an opportunity to buck you off of his torso.

You get sent flying over his head and on to the ground with a mouthful of sand, a groan leaving you. The blue-eyed man managed to stand up, coughing violently and rubbing the red imprints of your fingertips left on his skin.

He approaches you slowly, seeing you struggle to get to your hands and knees. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and from what he could hear it sounded as if you were trying to breath through corroded lungs.

You waited until he was a foot away from you to swing your arm around and release the mixture of sand and rocks that you had gathered in your palm into John's eyesight. Grunting, the man stumbles as he furiously wipes at his crystal blue eyes with the tips of his fingers.

Your clouded and delirious mind pulled you to your feet in an instant, your arms extended and launching at John's face. Your nails dug into the skin of his cheeks, gouging out slices of flesh as you tore into him with a ferocity of a rabid beast.

The Baptist struggles to catch your moving hands, but he finally managed to wrap his fingers around your wrists. He could feel your pulse thumping dangerously high as he rammed his knee into your stomach to distract you from clawing out his eyes.

Once you double over, John twists your loosened arms around your back and shoves you face first into the ground. You wheeze once you feel his weight settle on to your lower back, his form now straddling you and pinning your hands there.

You immediately start to squirm underneath him, fighting to get your arms free from the major disadvantage. A frustrated roar erupts from your bared teeth. When John realizes you were never going to exhaust yourself, he has no other choice than to release your hands and slip his arm around your neck.

With your throat settled between the space of his bicep and forearm, the man locked his hands together and began to slowly tighten his grip. You were immediately sent into a panic with the threat of losing oxygen, your arms and legs thrashing violently.

John squeezed his eyes shut, praying that this was all a sick nightmare. Just another one of those night terrors that jolted him awake and left him in a sheen of sweat. But as your body began to relax in his chokehold, he knew it wasn't a dream at all.

Your vision blurred drastically, a film of black surrounding the edges of your eyesight. Over the sounds of your own gurgling chokes and gasps, your heartbeat pounded against your eardrum and seemed to echo out into space.

As the world began to slip away, something unexpected came into focus. It was as if the radio had been cranked all the way up, but you knew that wasn't true because of the man holding you tightly to the ground.

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