Chapter 27
Manipulationis a weapon you carry with you at all times.
People like to wield it to get what they want.
You can spin the story in a way that would make someone believe they did something, even if they played no part in it.
And they’d never know of the invisible weapon aimed right at their head. The weapon that made them confess.
I pretended to drink, watching Roosevelt closely to make sure he drank the whole glass.
“Come here.”
He dropped his glass and pushed me to lie on the bed.
My glass spilled wine on my dress, falling on the beige carpet.
His bloated body got on top of me. The towel he wore came undone.
I wasn’t trembling anymore. It’s like my fear just faded away.
I was lying there like a dead fish, watching things unravel.
He was licking my left cheek and my lips, moving down to my neck. His foul tongue was drooling on me as I stayed still like a toy.
I should have run when he was in the shower.
I should have run while he was sitting on the bed.
He began groping my shoulders, breasts and stomach. He ground on me like a horny dog.
He grabbed the collar of my dress and tried to rip it open. The thin fabric gave way and the sound of cloth tearing filled the room.
“What the fuck?”
The necklace .
I tried getting out from underneath him, but it was impossible.
“You, bitch!”
A sharp slap to the cheek shocked me. I wanted to scream the pain out, but my vision went blurry.
“Tried to rob me, you, skank?”
He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the floor.
I screamed, gripping my hair with both hands. I felt like I was being scalped.
He grabbed my arm and threw me to the floor full-force.
The bed was tall and I broke the fall by landing on my arm. I tried to get up, but he came up and kicked me in the stomach.
He kicked me in the ribs twice after that.
He was beating me furiously, mercilessly.
I tried to cover myself with my hands as I lay there. One of his kicks hit my fingers. Sobbing escaped my lips.
“Whore!”
He sat on top of me and grabbed my neck with both hands.
He squeezed for all he was worth.
I tried to claw at his face, and he pulled one of his hands away to land a hard blow in my eye. Whatever air I still had in my lungs got pushed out violently.
His other hand began to fumble about the layers of my dress.
I was kicking and trying to move away from his hand when he raised it to punch me in the nose.
Agony made me see black spots and the taste of blood in my mouth screamed for me to keep fighting.
He hiked up the skirt of my dress and tried ripping my panties off when his face began to flush red and his eyes got a glazed-over look.
His hand flew back to my throat and he resumed strangling me savagely.
Tears began streaming from my eyes like midwood brooks .
I stared into the furious eyes of death itself. Death reeked of alcohol and shower gel. That’s when I realized I wasn’t going to make it.
I was going to die.
Black spots filled my vision and I felt like I was about to pass out.
He was looking more and more flushed, like he was strangling himself instead of me.
His grip was getting weaker, but not weak enough for me to take a big gulp of air.
I raised my arm and slapped him in the face. Gasping for air, he moved his hand to his throat, hitting me on the chin.
The blow wasn’t hard, but I could taste fresh blood in my mouth.
I’d bit my cheek.
He got off of me, and I coughed violently, gasping for the air I still couldn’t get enough of.
He staggered to get to the table, tumbling down right next to it. His hand was fumbling for the inhaler on the table.
It brought me great pleasure to watch it slip out of his hands.
When he finally got it, he took two hits but it did nothing. He was still suffocating.
His face turned red like a ripe tomato ready to burst. His eyes went wide, saliva began dripping from his mouth.
I watched him from the floor all this time, trying not to pass out.
“Call for help,” he croaked.
“No,” I whispered.
Now was my turn to see terror in his eyes. He realized he lost.
His body went limp. He fell on the side, staring at me.
I watched him take a couple more breaths right before life left his body for good.
His glassy, lifeless eyes stared back at me .
I tried to get back up, but my whole body was now a huge open wound. I leaned on my elbow, but my arm was too weak and I fell on the side, moaning in pain.
I tried to get up again and this time turned out better.
Leaning against the wall, I stood there, watching his dead body.
I had to run.
A wave of adrenaline hit me.
I ran out of the room, holding the collar of my dress with my left hand to hide the necklace, my shoes dangling from my right hand.
I hurt to run, my left eye wouldn’t open, but I kept running.
I ran into the hall and came upon a middle-aged woman.
“He’s...”
Fear left me speechless. I didn’t know, what to do. I had no idea, what to say.
The woman looked at me with furrowed brows. She looked me over intently, like she was trying to decide what to do with me.
She rushed into his room, leaving me standing there with my ugly thoughts.
She would know I killed him. She’d call the police. I had to run.
She came back, and I froze.
“He’s dead.”
My mouth hung open as I blinked rapidly, waiting for her to make a decision.
“You need to leave.”
I quickly nodded.
She led me to the front door and closed it behind me without another word.
I staggered as I walked to the main gates.
The guards didn’t ask any questions. They said nothing as they let me out.
I stumbled along the fence barefoot, unable to fathom how quickly I’d managed to find myself there .
Bright headlights blinded me. A dark-blue car pulled out from around the corner and stopped.
Levi got out of the car to open the passenger door for me.
I got in, threw my shoes on the floor and pulled legs closer to my body, hugging them tightly.
I was safe.
I was okay.
I was alive.
It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.
Memories of what’d just happened flashed through my mind.
Emotions washed over me like an icy wave as tears streamed down my face. The sobs turned into wails that filled the car.
Levi didn’t try to calm me down, ask me questions, or do anything that would’ve made me cry even harder. He drove the car silently, like he wasn’t even there.
I cried, drowning in my tears and choking on sobs. I couldn’t get enough of them. I didn’t know if I could ever stop or when I’d have enough.
The car stopped and I raised my tear-stained eyes to look out the window.
We returned to my prison.
I unclenched my hands so I could sit up straight and put my shoes back on.
My face was throbbing and burning. It was hard to swallow.
I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to be in my own body. It no longer brought me any comfort.
I put my shoes on, got out of the car and headed to the reaper’s office.
When I walked in, Eric was leaning against the table, staring at the wall in silence.
He stood up straight when he saw me. His whole body tensed up like a spring. His eyes looked me over, taking in the consequences of his actions. He kept balling and relaxing his right fist.
“Does it hurt?”
His voice sounded like he couldn’t believe his own eyes and wanted to make sure what he was looking at was real.
I tried to take the necklace off, but it got tangled in the scraps of my dress.
I pulled at the dress, and it gave in with a sound of fabric tearing.
I wanted to rid myself of the dress, too.
Burn it.
Forget it ever existed.
I could still feel the filth and depravity of that night. It’s like the dress had absorbed all those disgusting events and now carried their imprint within itself.
Crazy fatigue crushed me. I wanted to wash away all my thoughts, this whole day as soon as I could, and plunge into a deep sleep, finally letting myself drift away someplace all of this filth can’t reach.
Eric came closer.
His eyes never leaving mine for even a second.
I took a step towards him once I took off the necklace and held it out in my hand.
“You didn’t worry about it when you gave me to him. Why start now?”
I could see a tinge of anger and regret in his eyes.
Regret?
No. I was just seeing things.
Psychopaths can’t feel those kinds of emotions. And even if he could, fuck his regrets and fuck him, too.
“I asked you a question.”
His voice was cold .
I let my hand fall and the necklace dropped to the floor like a cast-off trinket.
“What exactly would you like to know, Eric? Whether he raped me or not? Did he strangle me? Be more specific about the parts of the story you’re curious about. Because he called me a whore and was going to treat me accordingly. All because you told him I was one.”
“Answer the damn question, Zoe.”
He replied through gritted teeth.
I could feel all the emotions I’d left in the car come down on me like a giant wave.
“Yes. It hurts. It hurts like hell to realize a human being can do stuff like this to someone they’ve never met before.
Someone who did nothing wrong. It hurts to know that men like you and Roosevelt walk the Earth, raising hell wherever you are.
It hurts to know I’m all alone. That no one’s coming to save me.
I live in a cage, and I have no idea how long I’ve left to live.
I have no future. All I’ve left is my past, beautiful memories I burn to see any light in my life at this point.
Because my life as it is now is hell. And you are the reaper, sucking the life out of me little by little, watching me die slowly. ”
I walked around him to the table and grabbed the scissors from it.
His body tensed up.
I could see him clenching his jaw hard.
“You want me to kill myself, don’t you? Is that what you want?”
Tears were flowing down my face with renewed vigor, my voice breaking.
“Would it be easier for you if I killed myself right now? Would you be happy then? I know, I would. I’d be happy to finally save myself from you.”
I rammed the scissors into my chest and felt them colliding with flesh, but there was no pain .
I looked up and saw Eric standing much closer now. His face looked slightly twisted.
I glanced down and saw a red stream of blood flowing from his hand.
The scissors stabbed his hand, but didn’t go fully through.
Terror showed in my face.
He jerked them out in one fell swoop and threw them on the floor.
I was shaking.
“I... I...”
He took my tear-stained cheeks in his hands and lifted my face, making our eyes meet.
“It won’t make me feel any better.”
I looked at him, trying to comprehend what I’d done and what he said.
I began to step back and his hands slipped away from my face.
Blood was dripping from his hand. It soaked into the carpet, wishing to stay there forever.
My gaze darted from him to his hand, the scissors, the carpet and the necklace. And I ran out of the room.