Page 156 of Mayhem and Minnie

“You just told me you wanted to kill me!”

“And that in itself is special since I don’t kill women! I would have given you a very special death!”

“Special death? And pray, what would a special death look like?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“Well, you’re not bad to look at, so I would have embalmed you. I wouldn’t have frozen you, though, since I hate the cold, and my previous experiments with freezers failed. But I would have found a way to keep you alive-looking and?—”

She presses her finger against my lips to shush me.

“I think it’s in your best interest to stop talking,” she mutters.

“But you need to understand. Both the fact that you would have been my first female victim and the fact that I decided not to kill you despite your state of uncleanliness makes you very special to me. I wouldn’t make these allowances for just anybody…”

She presses her fingers insistently against my lips, stopping me mid-sentence.

“You’re a very odd man, Marlowe.”

I grab her finger, holding it in place. Parting my lips over the tip, I suck it in my mouth. I don’t even pause to wonder what she might have touched with said finger. In fact, I rather hope it was a certain part of her body, thereby allowing me to taste what is otherwise forbidden.

Her eyes widen and she freezes. Her chest rises and falls with every labored breath and I find myself getting lost in those black eyes of hers. They’re so dark, they resemble an obsidian mirror; one with mystical abilities that has the power to suck my soul right out of my body and consume it.

The moment is broken when she yanks her hand back and scoots over, putting even more distance between us. She swallows hard, and I note she’s as rattled as I am.

“You’re a very odd woman, too, Minnie. In fact, considering all the secrecy surrounding you, the fact that you’re here, in my bed, and not in my basement, is a wonder in itself.”

“You should sleep,” she mumbles, turning with her back to me. “You’re sick and cold and you need rest.”

That’s the last thing she says to me before silence envelops us.

I stare at the back of her head for moments on end, wanting to say more but being afraid of saying all the wrong things.

She confounds me to no end.

With a long, tired sigh, I get comfortable under the blankets—a little hard to do considering it’s sweltering hot with four blankets on, and the added weight puts too much pressure on my battered ribs. Eventually, though, I fall asleep.

As soon as I close my eyes, though, strange images assail me. Flashes of strange creatures and dark shadows seeking to hurt Minnie. This all morphs into a clearer picture as I find myself back at the scene of the accident.

“They have arrived,” Minnie says, right before both doors of the car are yanked by an invisible force.

21

Aloud, shrilling sound erupts in my ear, almost as if a banshee had received notice of the coming death.

I don’t know what could have ripped apart the car doors—what could have such strength to do it. But where my mind becomes muddled and confused in the face of failing logic, my instincts flare up.

I grab onto Minnie and hold her tight, whispering continuous nonsensical assurances.

Yet it’s only a matter of seconds before we’re ripped from the car, too.

I don’t see who or what does it. I only feel a whoosh of air that grips me tightly and pulls me out of the body of the car, slamming me against the pavement.

Keeping my arms around Minnie, I take the brunt of the fall. Pain radiates from my back, and as we roll onto the ground, my side gets bruised too. The air is knocked out of me, and I gasp for breath.

But I don’t let go.

I keep my grip steadfast, tight, and unyielding.

Even as the pain becomes blinding, I don’t let go.

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