Page 29 of Rage

Daisy

My blade slices into my first victim like they’re a stick of butter. Dragging it across their throat, I sever their vocal cords and rip apart their trachea. With such a powerful blow and tug, I go so deep that my knife hits a vertebra and nearly gets caught on it.

Gleefully, I yank my weapon free. My laughter is soft, hardly louder than a whisper, but still full of delight.

Killing those who’ve committed sin against others is just so damn fun.

I know Drake said not to kill anyone before he does a property inspection of what we’re up against but how am I supposed to resist when the guy was right here? It’s not my fault he walked directly in my path.

Warm blood sprays everywhere like an unmanned hose with too much pressure pouring from its spout. As the armed man drops to the ground, the lights in the shipyard flicker out. I grin beneath my mask, I’m proud of Owen for figuring out how to cut the power swiftly. Just as everything goes dark, I hear Drake’s signal.

The sound of a rifle going off is loud in the dark.

The loud booms come in quick succession, one right after the other.

Shouts of alarm and orders immediately follow. I can hear the hurried footsteps of booted feet as the hired security attempt to follow orders, but they’re struggling to get their bearings in the dark.

I don’t have the same issue. The dark and I are friends. In its presence, I'm the strongest I’ve ever been. My eyes adjust swiftly as I prowl forward. I’m more comfortable in the shadows than I have ever felt in the light, and it shows as I confidently stroll across the grounds of a place I’ve never been to before.

Dark figures slink along on either side of me, taking out armed men just as easily as I had just done. Kingston and Wyatt are efficient killers, moving like dancers putting on a performance of a lifetime as they slash and stab. I shiver in delight at the sound of pained wheezes and the rattling of death that whooshes out from their victim’s lungs. If there was time to stop and appreciate the way they killed, I’d take it.

Unfortunately, there’s not. We’re in a time crunch. Soon, people will be here to steal away the women being held prisoner. If we don’t get to those women first… I don’t want to think about what could happen to them.

I’ll miss King and Wy’s deadly dance tonight, but there’s always next time. There willalwaysbe a next time.

Adjusting my blade in my hand, I trot swiftly up to my next victim. I must’ve made a noise because they whirl to face me just as I’m close enough to strike. Their gun lifts just a hair before it drops, clattering to the ground as my blade sinks into their open mouth. The tip of my knife punctures all the way through the throat, and I giggle at the absurd sight. When I try to pull my blade free as my victim sinks to his knees, it doesn’t bulge. Crap. My giggle subsides as I prop my foot in the middle of the dying man’s chest and try to pull my knife free.

Still, it doesn’t move.

“Here,” Owen says, appearing out of the darkness, startling me. “Sorry, I would’ve whistled to let you know I was here but?—”

“You and I both know you can’t whistle,” I point out, interrupting him.

His flustered huff causes me to giggle again. “What I wasgoingto say is that it’s hard to do it in a mask when my fingers can’t reach my lips. I can definitely whistle, Daze.”

“Uh huh, sure,” I counter as I drop my hand away from my blade.

Owen grabs the hilt, and with a hard heave, dislodges it from the dead man. As he hands me my weapon, I don’t miss the shudder racing down his spine.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, moving away from me. “Let’s go.”

I’m glad it’s dark and that I’m wearing a mask or else Owen would see the smirk on my face. Out of all my men, Owen’s the most squeamish. He kills just like the rest of us, but he’s not a fan of using a blade. It's something he’s just never gotten used to. Unfortunately, hitting people with a car isn’t an option tonight for him.

Around us, the others have fanned out, killing with speed and bloody proficiently. Owen and I join in, taking men down one by one. Each one sends a jolt of excitement through me. My shit-eating grin goes unseen and that’s probably for the best. The guys take care of me the best they can, and for the most part, I let them.

But when it comes to killing? There’s no fixing me. Iamthe justice system—deadly and unstoppable. If there’s something wrong with destroying those who would otherwise get away with hurting others, then I don’t want to be right. I’m doing more than the law could ever do.

Besides, Death and I are friends. With how often we flirt, we’re practically friends with benefits. I have some fucked up desires that only Death can satisfy.

It takes time, too much of it for my comfort, but slowly the four of us make our way inward. Bodies drop left and right. The more that fall, the harder it is to keep from letting the rush of the kill get to me. My body warms with each slash of my blade until I’m trembling from desire, rage, and delight. It’s a strange combination. Still, the conflicting emotions drive me on, fueling every move until I’m nothing more than a blur—an instrument of death blazing a path of destruction straight to the source of the problem.

By the time I step into the stream of high beams coming from a swanky looking SUV, I’m covered in blood and laughing. The sound is distorted beneath my mask but not muffled. Not with how loudly it rings.

“Hey! Get back!” A man dressed in all black orders as he steps in front of me with his gun raised.

My laughter doesn’t stop at the sight of the barrel pointed at me. If anything, it causes me to laugh louder and harder.

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