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Sunday, October 18, 2009,

Chapter 23: I'm sorry

Bang.

I can feel the wet, sticky liquid flow out of my arm.

Damn. I turn, fixed on the guard’s face. Evans? I grit my teeth. I have left a trail of bloodshed behind me, but no, I can’t kill Evans. Wiping the blood off with a finger, licking it off, I whip my dagger out.

“Don’t you know? I love red. I love blood. It’s the wonderful color of roses,” I sneer.

I charge at him, knocking the back of his head with the flat end of my blade, and he falls unconscious.

I wrap my wound and clean up the blood, leaving a trail of dead bodies behind me.

***

The next morning.

I had bandaged the wound the night before. It still hurts. Like a thousand hungry rats gnawing at your arm.

“Looks like I’ll wear this long sleeved shirt to work.”

11:24 PM



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