Chapter 1 #3
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cries, and that’s when I sense the sharp kitchen knife at my wrist. She slices vertically up my forearm and it burns. It hurts. I can feel it.
“I can’t love a monster, baby.”
“Mom!” I hear Juliet’s voice on the other side of my door as that same smooth, creamy blood runs down my arms and onto Mommy and my bed. She’s loudly crying as Juliet pounds on my door. Juliet starts crying, as if she knew.
My dad’s footsteps are loud as he storms in with tears down his own eyes. I’ve never seen Dad cry. He rips the knife from Mom and swallows her in a hug. Her. Mommy. Not me.
My arm grows numb, and my princess pink bedding gets ruined. Messy. Bloody.
I blink, a single time, and I feel Juliet’s little arms wrap around me. Mommy tries to grab for her, but Juliet dodges her. My blood smears on her arms as she hugs me. I enjoy Juliet’s hugs. Juliet’s hugs are soft and warm. I rest my dry cheek on her shoulder as she sobs into me.
I can’t be a monster. If I’m a monster, Mommy will take me away from Juliet. I have to be good.
For Juliet. I’d do anything for Juliet.
I blink a few times and gaze down at the light pink liquid in my cup, unable to hide my smile any longer. My black, frizzy hair covers the sides of my face as I stare down. A giggle slips past my lips, and that’s what gets the men to quiet down.
I look up, meeting each of their eyes as fear drips into them. Understanding their situation now, pleads of mercy fill my little house. The sounds bounce off the arched windows, and despite how cold it is at this time of night, it’s boiling in here.
I watch as the foxglove I’ve injected them all with prior to them waking up speeds its effects as their bodies fight harder. They’ll die faster without me having to lift another finger.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” Josh whips at me, cracking his calm boy persona.
“You’re already dead, Josh. All of you are,” I inform as I stand to pick up each of their teacups and dump the liquid over the remaining three officers.
Those were more for the set up. I didn’t know who’d figure out why they were here first, so I placed a teacup in front of each of them.
“I injected a lethal amount of foxglove into your systems about an hour before you all woke up. With the combination of your panic and the chemicals from that plant and many others, it’s only moments before you drop dead, like Lewis. ”
Splashes of the now lukewarm tea hit my exposed feet as they thrash around. Their anger has changed to pleading as the weakness in their bodies registers in their minds. Their pleads anger me further, proving why Lewis deserved the quick death I offered him.
“Hurting yourself too is an unusual style of dealing with guilt, my dear Diora, but I must say, I’m impressed with what I’ve seen,” a slick, aged voice speaks. The sudden sound makes me jump from my seat, reaching for my dagger.
Who the hell is here?
I’m not the biggest fan of blood. Using knives and daggers isn’t my specialty, either, but I’ve trained in using multiple weapons since the start of my vengeance mission.
“Help! Please help us!” Orlando shouts, drool spouting from his mouth. The woman grimaces before pulling out what appears to be a Ruger LCP Max, but to be honest, I’m not sure. I only know how to shoot a gun, and the one she has is small enough to fit in her white tweed purse.
I’m more concerned with why she’s here. I glare at the unknown woman. Doesn’t she see I’m in the middle of something?
“I’ll shoot right between your eyes if you speak out of turn again, Orlando,” she says, keeping the weapon trained on him.
Her attention snaps back to me as she steps into the light.
She’s an older Black woman, maybe in her fifties or sixties, in what could be her Sunday best. Her tweed dress fits impeccably, and she slinks into the room with kitten heels on.
Her hair is dyed brown, with a few grays peaking out, and her eyes are brown and sharp, setting me on edge.
I’m pissed she interrupted my night. It was going exactly how I planned, and here this woman comes. Now I have to kill her, too.
Rolling my eyes, I watch the new player on the scene.
I can’t speak unless she speaks to me, that much I know. She has the gun, so she has the power at the moment.
I don’t know who she is, if she’s on their side, acting as their savior, and that is my biggest concern. It looks to me she knows them, yet threatening to kill one of them makes me unsure about why she’s really here.
I can’t have her messing this up. I spent six months planning tonight, and I will not let her ruin it.
Orlando’s body shakes harshly before slumping over, his head hitting my delicate watercolor inspired tablecloth, death finally taking him. Now, all that’s left are Josh and Kyle, who are still spitting out curses and thrashing in their chairs which are nailed down to the floor.
Josh’s eyes have gone dark, as the hope of besting me has died.
I didn’t think much more would make me happier but this realization from the man who turned my sister away from reporting her sexual assault and making her feel dumb because “how can a woman sexually assault another woman” is the perfect icing on my cake.
Juliet Moss deserves justice. She deserves the world, and I’ll give that back to her.
“Two to go and you’ve barely touched these men, Diora. Darling, you’re destined for great things,” the woman says, coming to stand closer. She only takes a few steps, but her smile—it’s her smile that has me flinching.
Friend or foe is the question blaring in my mind, and I can’t make the determination. I stand this time and make a show of my weapon. My knife now comes in front of my chest, the blade facing away from me. It pisses me off that she’s made me do this. Hold this knife.
The poison in the air isn’t enough to take someone with as much energy as her.
“Who are you?” I ask. Her smile doesn’t falter as she sees my weapon, and from the way my arms line with goosebumps, I get the sense that she’s stronger than me. Way fucking stronger.
“I’m Mrs. Jay, soon, you’ll be calling me Mother,” she says, tilting her head with a sickly sweet smile. “What’s the plan, darling? What’s next in this lovely show you’re orchestrating?”
“Why would I tell you?” I snip. I don’t know this woman, and yet here she comes, guns blazing and asking me for answers.
She moves the gun toward me this time, and I huff before answering.
“Let the poison kill them,” I say, not entirely sure why I’m offering such information to her. If she kills me, then she could let the rest of these pigs free, and I will not let that happen.