Page 7 of Dust to Dust

What a joke!

It was from my laptop the virus was planted. Therefore it was because of me and my weakness that my parents were murdered.

Renewed strength flickered in my mind asI pulled the shiv back and pressed it against my wrist. I cut but not deep enough to kill. It wasn't the first time I had cut myself, not because I was fucked up in the head, or maybe I was at this point, I needed to cut to wake up. Haven't you heard that old saying, if you are in a nightmare, just pinched yourself to wake up? Well, whoever said that was a fool because there is no waking when you are in a nightmare. When I cut or pinched myself, I only woke up back in my cell every day—time after time.

A faint line of blood appeared against my skin. I heard a guard's boots echo down the hallway. Drop, drop, stomp, stomp. The blood and boots repeated in a synthesized fashion.

Scurrying with haste, I rushed to my bed and slipped the blade into a hole I made in my mattress.The guard stopped at the bars of my cell. I walked to the front with my head tipped down, not looking into his eyes. The guard extended his hand and slipped between the bars a black envelope. I reached out and accepted it then he walked away. I never knew what the guards would give me. Sometimes it was a beating, and other times it was an extra amount of food from Anton. Nothing from my uncle usually came.

"Gifts, gifts, she gets gifts. Pretty little angel now in hell gets gifts," Marla sang on repeat like a parrot. Marla was in the cell across from mine. Leave it to fate to place the girl who spoke the most English across from me. It's not what you think. Marla was one hundred percent off the rails. Dasha, two cells down, told me Marla was in here for murder, and I didn't doubt it.

Marla continued singing about me as I walked to my bed and sat down.Peeling back the paper, I opened the envelope. Shaking it, I spilled its contents over my bed. It was filled with photos, and not just any pictures but photos of Titan King. I staggered back, falling off my bed with shock and horror. Knowing it was Titan who killed my parents was one thing. Seeing his face well I was suffering in hell was another form of torture.

My palms dug into the cold concrete floor as I pushed myself up and sat back on the bed. Hesitantly, my trembling hand reached out and grabbed a photo. The paper felt like it burned to the touch. Seeing Titan in the photos killed what little life I was clinging to. Titan looked just as beautiful as my mind remembered. He was stunning, smiling and looked unaffected in every single photo.

The fucker!

I looked at photo after photo of Titan; each one angered me more just as it drove a long knife into my chest. After inspecting all the images, I knew my uncle was telling the truth because in that picture was not the boy Titan pretended to be. In those images was a cold-hearted, unaffected killer.

I realize my mistake.

If I killed myself, Titan would win. He'd continue to live his privileged life with pleasure. Fuck that! Why should he get to live well I was slowly rotting away and dying in here?

I stood and started to pace my cell. I used to feel like a trapped rat in here but not now.

"Not now!" I screamed as I pulled my hair at the roots. Marla started to laugh like a hyena, the crazy bitch.

My eyes narrowed as something dark took hold of me. It started in my mind and then slithered down as it wrapped around my heart. The darkness constricted, tighter and tighter until what was left of my heart crumbled. Dust scattered in my chest as the evil root spread its ashes. It mixed with my blood.

Killing.

Killing every part of me that was foolish.

Killing Elsa.

"Not. Now." I declared!

I was no longer a rat; I was a trapped lion. Instead of pacing the cell, I walked back and forth as I sharpened my newly found claws on the concrete floor. This was no longer my jail. It was my training ground, and what better place to train than with killers.

Titan, Lucas, and my uncle Igor were about to learn a hard lesson. You can cage a wild animal, but you can never tame it. I will devour them whole when they think I am tamed enough to be let out. But in order to do that, I can't remain myself. Rushing to the bars, I pressed my face between them. The cold metal could be felt through my cheeks, down to my teeth, but that didn't matter anymore. My feelings didn't matter.

I eyed Marla, who jumped and skipped around her tiny cell. Marla wasn't born this way. None of us were. We're shaped, broken, and molded into something twisted. The only way to survive was to the cope; some cope with a pint of ice cream; some deal with life by just shutting down.

Elsa was too weak to sense Titan's lies. I had to become someone new, more assertive, and most of all, a person that felt nothing. Feelings got me into this mess.I'll stop feeling and patiently wait because, like a lion in the wild, I'll be stalking and lurking, ready to pounce when my prey least suspects it.

I could hear an evil laugh echoing in my head. The voice was new. It sounded confident, but the voice was mostly cold, dead, and heartless.

It sounded glorious.

* * *

The cold chains locked around my wrist caused an ache in my bones. The metal felt even colder than the icy room I was placed in. Then again, my time here wasn't meant to be spent in comfort. The jungle was a harsh and cruel world, and that's where I was now. Little did my guardian know that I would become the predator they wanted, but I wouldn't be the one they expected.

"Long time no see," I cocked a grin as I looked at Anton. I had been in prison for seven months now. The last time I saw Anton was when he drove me here. My uncle and I sat in the back of the car as my uncle explained my new fate. Anton was a lier too. He said he'd protect me from my uncle. Well, he can't save Elsa anymore because she was dead.

Anton's green eyes looked more haunted as he scanned me up and down. More wrinkles were starting to form on his handsome face. Unlike most men who aged to become bald and fat, I was willing to bet Anton would be the rare 1% who was the opposite. His body still lacked body fat, and his head was still thick. All he needed to worry about was those stress lines, but many women favored that look.

I crossed my ankles under the table as I eyed Anton, who whispered to the guard at the door. The guards escorted me into a private room with a metal table and two chairs. My wrists were chained to the table like a criminal. The guard nodded and took an envelope, which Anton handed him, then the thick metal door shut, and I was us alone with Anton.

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