Flirting with Death pt 3

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The room was dingy and mostly dark, a small battery-powered lantern barely illuminating us in the room. I swallowed hard, unsure of where I was capable of going next. A man sat before me, his wrists bound with a heavy duty zip tie behind him, ankles bound by brown leather belts to the legs of the chair.

I swallowed hard.

What the hell was I thinking? What was I going to do with the kitchen knife in my hand?

The man before me was a convicted killer, let go only because of a fluke in the court systems. I had recognized him from the news the other day when I came up with this plan. The shadow of a moth fluttered before the dim lamp, sending dark tendrils to dance across the far gray wall. My grip tightened around the handle of the knife, my knuckles going white. He had gotten away with murdering his children and raping his wife. I would be bringing vengeance for that woman and getting my shot to talk to Death. It had to be done.

...Right?

I bit my lip, drowning out the sound of the murderer’s grumbles and muffled curses, choked out by a sock stuffed in his mouth and tied in place. Whatever he was saying was clearly not nice, despite being able to decipher it.

Okay… I can do this. I got this.

I took a tentative step forward, a bead of perspiration rolling down my temple. I can do this, I can do this. I was my own cheer leader for a moment as I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to watch as I let go. My clenched fist shot forward, the tip of the knife plunging into the man’s chest. He was clearly screaming behind the sock gag now, fighting his bonds as he tried to thrash back and forth. Every flailing movement drove the blade further, back and forth, a warm red stain spreading across his greasy faded white tank top. His gray eyes were wide, full of hatred and acid as he looked at my grimacing features.

I gritted my teeth as I twisted the knife left and right in the center of his chest, just wanting this all to end, just wanting to see my angel again. One eye snuck open, praying to find a glimpse of the lady Death but only feeling a tang of disgust as I saw the man before me writhing and glaring hate into my very soul. His gray eyes were glowing red with fury at me as my eyes slowly opened to him. There was no begging in his gaze, only anger. It made me rather sick.

Forcing the knife back and forth through his chest, I prayed to find a vital organ. Which side was the heart on again? How deep did I have to go to pierce a lung? Jesus this was harder than I thought it would be. Blood soaked the man’s shirt through and through, creeping up my hands and mixing with the sweat on my palms. He was still squirming, though his breath seemed more labored, his eyes glazing over in the shadowy room.

I didn’t stop slashing and twisting the blade until a minute or so after he had stopped moving. My black ensemble was splattered with crimson though only a trained eye could tell. Slowly, I pulled the knife from his chest, my grip loosening about it before finally wrapping it quickly in my front jacket pocket. I looked around the room desperately then sighed my relief when I saw those brilliant lips.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her, and my cheeks flushed a brilliant red as I struggled to find words.

She looked puzzled for a moment, arching a finely craft brow at my direction. I gave her a nervous laugh, running a hand though my hair and instantly regretting it as I felt the blood wipe through it. I sighed, doing another dumb thing by slapping my forehead with the same hand. This woman made me an idiot. How could she not though?

Chuckling, she slashed her scythe through the now dead killer’s form and shook her head.

“You should really be more careful doing that.” It was a heavenly choir ringing in my ears as she spoke.

“Y-yea...” I stuttered back, feeling foolish and unable to come up with a witty retort.

She flashed my that breath-taking smile. “I’ll see you around, Eric...” and with another two fingered salute, she was gone in a flash and I was left, dumbstruck and covered in blood.

I stood there dazed for a moment before I shook myself back to reality. There was the squeak of rats at the floorboards and suddenly I remembered where I was.

“Oh s**t...” I muttered, eyes going wide at the dead man before more. “Oh… s**t.” Perhaps it was time I left, picking up the lantern and carefully tiptoeing around the pool of blood that now gathered on the floor. My time here was spent and I had to high-tail it out of there before I did something stupid… well… Stupid-er. My hand held tight onto the knife in my jacket pocket, making sure it wasn’t likely to travel anywhere outside of it and I made for my car.

It was roughly 3a.m. when I shuffled back into my dingy apartment, the yellowed walls greeting me as a roach or two darted to hide back behind the cupboards. I stood before the sink and ran hot water over my knife and hands, splashing my face to rid myself of the mark of stupidity I had left upon it. The water ran red for a moment, then faded to a shade of pink, then finally back to its clear state. I cleaned up lightly and ditched my jacket into a pile of dirty black clothes in the corner of my room.

She talked to me. I grinned to myself, all my anxieties lifting as I threw myself into my bed, hearing it creak beneath my weight. Death talked to me again…! I was beaming with pride, grabbing my pillow and hugging it happily to my chest. But then, a sour note hit in my head.

Surely her name wasn’t Death, was it…? Questions flooded into my mind.

Maybe Lucy, or Clara… Yea, that had to be it, just not Death. My brow furrowed as I hugged the pillow closer.

I gotta find out her name now. I thought, new-found determination filling my spirit. Yeah, that was it. I would plan something new to bring her to me and I would ask her name. Things were starting to look up in my world.

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