The Dark Sire Issue 1 (Fall 2019) | Page 48

My lips curled in a sneer as I watched her try to dodge the knife strokes, twisting her body to no avail. Too late now, I thought triumphantly. You avoided the pain for so many years. Now it’s time for your fair share. “If only you hadn’t been so selfish,” I said, allowing the knife to carve little grooves and notches in her skin. Blood was flowing freely now, trickling down Missie’s body in bright rivulets. I was momentarily struck by the stark contrast between the creamy white of her skin and the scarlet drops of blood. I rejoiced at the sight of those lacerations, filled with a gloating happiness now that Missie’s body was no longer perfect. “If only you hadn’t betrayed us! We could’ve put up with almost anything. But not this. You hurt Mamma real bad. She’ll never get over it.” I cut deeper, feeling a surge of righteous anger. Missie’s s writhings were so violent that I had to hold the knife in both hands and lunge at her with quick, jabbing stabs. Muffled squeals of pain and panic burst from her. My hands were shaking but a jolt of power coursed through me. For the first time in my life I felt strong, in control. I was beyond the grasping clutches of hurt and fear. “You stupid bitch!” I screamed. Fury rushed up from my gut and poured out my throat, erupting like scalding lava. With all the darkness in me finally unleashed, I plunged the knife into Missie’s chest, certain by the fountain of dark blood cascading out that I’d hit her heart. For a moment the world 46