Her eyes fly open at the yell, surprised and so thrown off of her guard, she almost answers. But she holds her tongue, biting back a cry as his hands go to her throat. He could very easily kill her. But she’s dying all the same.
She didn’t expect him to get this violent. She didn’t expect that, in the end, she would just end up the same as anyone else. Just another v i c t i m, another addition to his list of kills, just more blood on his hands.
But no matter how monstrous that blood was, it was blood all the same.
And it made no difference to a boy, who hands were already dyed blood red. She simply stares up at him, no fear, nothing written on her features. The only thing that gave away her pain was her eyes, but she hopes it is not noticeable, howscared, she was, to d i e.
He waited for an answer, but it did not come. He then presented a smile, noticing the pain in her eyes. Then, he immediately gripped her throat tightly, anger pursing through his body from sudden realization.
“Are you——- -
afraid?”
How weak she was. Once a serial killer, cutthroat, heartless. Now she was nothing. All he saw in front of him was one of his kills, how they screamed & bled & sat there dying. Eyes closed from pain and death. Blood covered his body and floor and he never bothered to clean it. Blood of one he never cared for; who he enjoyed watching the wretched screams & tears. They were lifeless almost; a victim.
She was now just a helpless victim. His victim.
“I should already kill you. I have no reason to keep you alive, don’t I?”