The Devil's Pawn
Author's note: I finished this for a friend. I wrote it for anyone who has a soft spot for Mystery/Thrillers.
HimIt was cold and dark and she was alone. I pitied her. So I decided to enter her room.
She was tied down a strait jacket secured her to a hospital bed. She fought with all her might to free herself from her restraints, cutting her wrists but other than that she didn’t succeed in freeing herself.
She must’ve heard my footsteps, because she shouted, “Who’s there?” her voice sounded nervous when she spoke.
I put on a smile and ignoring her question I asked, “Are you going to invite me in?” I smiled again, hiding my fangs.
“Yes, yes you can come in,” she said invitingly. She would regret those words.
As soon as she saw what she was looking at, she panicked. She didn’t panic at the sight of him; she panicked instead at the coolness to his hands on top of hers.
She shivered, “You feel cold,” she told him.
He got down on his knees, and looked at her in her eyes.
“Please,” she pleaded with him.
He released her face bringing his arm to his side.
“You fear me,” he concluded.
She shook her head and tears made their way to her eyes as she spoke. “No, I don’t fear you, I fear myself,” I whispered.
“What are you in for?” he asked her.
“I-I murder. I killed someone,” she stammered.
“I know,” he told her.
“Excuse me?” she asked him, suspicious now.
He ignored her question again and didn’t bother to hold her down because the restraints already were.
He put a hand on her chin to hold it still, or to get her to look at him she wasn’t sure which.
“What are you doing?” she yelled, more nervous than scared.
He undid her restraints which held her by cutting them with his pocket knife.
She was shocked and she was free from this place but not without a price.
“Thank you,” I told him.
He paid me no mind.
“Get up!” he yelled.
I obeyed; he didn’t look like the type to mess with.
“Your freedom doesn’t come without a price of my choosing,” he informed her.
“What do you want?” I asked him.
“Come here,” he ordered me.
I stepped toward him, and his cold hands wrapped around my neck as he pulled me toward him.
“What are you doing?” I wondered.
He sunk his teeth into my neck and as he did this, I wanted to scream and run for my life, but I didn’t and he wouldn’t let me. And I was meant for this getting into trouble, I mean.
He released me; he had marked me with a mark that would distinguish me from the rest. I was still conscious enough to hear him say,” You tell me you regret killing, but even I know you are no Christian. If you regret it as much as you say you do you won’t do it again,” he told her.
“I promise,” she said, quickly.
“Do not make a promise you cannot keep,” he warned her,” You will not kill when someone is meant to cause you harm but no one can keep that promise when it comes to survival,” he pointed out. “Everyone wants to survive no matter what the cost is.”
He was right too. She didn’t keep the promise she had broken it. My mother may have secrets of her own, but so do I. He came to me that night.