Page 7 of Rising from the Ashes

Closing my eyes, I inhale.

Letting out my breath, I release the first arrow. Opening my eyes as the whoosh sound fills my ears followed by the sharp arrow piercing my victim’s skin as he grunts and falls to the ground. As soon as the first guard's body hits the hard concrete, the second man aims his gun in my direction.

I quickly replace the arrow while the second guard is mindlessly shooting in any direction, hoping to stop my assault. Just as one bullet swipes my upper arm, I release the second arrow. As the heat of the bullet slices through my skin, I see my second target fall to the ground.

Ignoring the pain, I grin.

Step one complete.

Once the night has become quiet again, I see Silas exit the back passenger seat of his driver’s Expedition. Looking around, he notices the two men lying on the ground outside the gate, bleeding out in front of him at the hands of my arrows. Turning his back to me, he pulls his cellphone from his pocket. Knowing he is probably phoning for extra security measures, I know my time is limited.

Crouching down, I leave the security of the bushes and swiftly but quietly make my way inside the gates.

Silas turns around as he hears the crunching of the gravel beneath my boots. Before he can pull his gun, I stand in front of him, ripping off my mask, my hoodie falling down.

His eyes widen in shock as the realization hits him like a train. “Calista? No. You’re dead.”

“Meet the ghost of your past then, Silas.” I smirk as I pull the warm syringe from my pocket.

His eyes follow my hand. “You’ve changed, baby.”

Looking back up at me, he says, “You think you can play judge, jury, and executioner?”

Stepping forward, “Oh, Honey, no. I don’t think that at all, but I am going to play the executioner.”

“Come on, Cal. You won’t kill me.”

I take another step toward him. “See, you remember me as the weak, naive little girl. Stuck under Daddy’s, and eventually your thumb, doing whatever you asked of me without question.”

Taking another step closer, I continue. “What you don’t see is what you did to me that night and how it changed me, how it changed everything, Silas.”

Instead of drawing his gun, he attempts to throw a right hook toward my temple. Being smaller than he is, he misjudges my size and I side step him. Turning around, I side kick him in his lower abdomen, knocking the breath from his lungs. He lurches backward, gripping his stomach where my boot made contact. Falling to the ground, he groans as his back hits the gravel, and his head smacks the first step leading up to the doorway.

His pupils grow large as I slowly saunter over, my small frame towering over his shaking body.

I laugh into the night as I lean over him. “I am going to kill you, and my father will be lost without his little puppet.”

“Calista. You’ll regret this,” he chokes out since the fall knocked the breath from his body.

“Oh? Like you regret the night you had your men use me and then you tried to kill me?” I whisper.

I dig my boot into his chest, feeling his chest pop beneath my foot. As I lean over further, my burgundy hair falls in his face.

Uncapping the syringe with my teeth, I press it against his neck. The skin indents underneath the needle, until it slowly pierces through the first layer.

“You always were my little whore,” he retorts.

Even facing death, he is going to go down trying to throw stones with his words.

“Don’t worry, this will hurt and I’ll enjoy watching life leave your eyes.” I push the needle into his jugular vein, feeling a small pop as the vein is penetrated. A small amount of blood pools around the needle, as my thumb presses the plunger down slowly.

“Calista, baby. Don’t.” He begins to beg as he realizes I am truly not the same girl he once knew.

“No hard feelings, right, honey?” I sneer, echoing his words from the night he tried to kill me.

“Right about now, you should be feeling your throat tighten as the chemicals take over your veins. They’ll harden. You’ll be preserved and stuck in this body, like the monster you are.”

Satisfaction fills me as the solution begins to work. I can see the anxiety wash over his face. Silas’ breaths become ragged as he begins to choke on his spit when his esophagus starts to harden. His olive skin turns to a pale purple as the oxygen leaves his body, the veins near his temples protruding. I pull the syringe away as the veins in his neck become distended and his body begins to slowly freeze in position.

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