Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 26: Hooha Warheads

It's got a little party hat. *<):D 

Still another part left from the chapter I broke up!

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        "What did you do to my mom?!" I shook my mother for the billionth time and pressed the back of my hand against her cold, stark-white cheek.  "What did you do to her? Wake her up! Wake her up right this second!"

            "She'll wake up on her own in a few hours, cupcake. And let's not forget dad, in his office. He'll wake up around the same time." The floors creaked under Death's heavy steps, his combat boots stopping a mere inch from my kneeling body. "I needed them out of the way."

            I exploded off of the floor onto my feet. "She looks dead!"

             "Trust me, I know what dead looks like. She's not dead. But she could be, if you don't stop whining." There was an iciness to the Grim Reaper's voice. "Your dad is sleeping like the dead all by himself in the other room. Less work for me. Earlier, I broke that pesky unseen wall that makes me have to ask your permission to enter your house. Now I can just steal your panties whenever I want. Isn't that just great?"

            I looked up at the towering monster and gave him the filthiest look I could possibly give a person. "Get out of my house."

            He leaned in real close and my mouth parted, betraying me. "As if you want me to leave," he whispered roughly. Chuckling, he circled around me slowly. "I like your hair better down." He stood behind me and I felt his gloved fingers softly comb through my pony tail and fought a sensation that was similar to a shiver but more instinctual.

            My body knew I was in the room with a killer.

            "But then again," he continued, still whispering huskily in my ear, sliding the tips of his fingers slowly up and down the back of my arms, "if you wear a ponytail, I'll have something to yank on while we do the nasty on that wonderfully polished mahogany table in your dining room. That could be fun." I wanted to move away from him, but I couldn't. Or maybe I didn't want either of us to move. My feet felt nailed to the ground and I could no longer fight the strange sensation his presence always brought me. It was like his hands were a liquid fire and his body was a weapon, aimed at my throat. And I loved that feeling. Deep, deep down, some sadistic part of me loved that he was a weapon.

               But I could never admit that out loud because then I would be admitting I...

            "You might want to ask Tiara before you do any of that." I tuned over my shoulder, and his shadowy face was awaiting me. "She might suffocate you with her plastic boobs."

             "Suffocation by a woman's breasts?" The cloaked monster leaned in from behind me, curling his arms around me and resting his head on my shoulder. A frown knit my eyebrows together. Was he....hugging me?" I could feel his stubble, prickly and rough through my t-shirt. From behind, it might have looked like we were a couple, and he was holding me. I felt confined in his arms, like I was wearing a straight jacket, but at the same time, I felt safer than I had ever felt in my entire life. Those feelings combined terrified me. "How creative. You should suffocate me that way. I'm quite the masochist, you know.." His hand, at some point, had slipped under my shirt, and a pure white pain grew over the scar over my stomach. "But you already know that," he purred in my ear.

            I tore myself from his grasp, putting a coffee table between us. I felt free. He had used his powers on me. "What the hell did you just do to me?" I panted, clutching my stomach.