Page 4 of Magic and Mayhem

Her threat isn’t idle. She will drag me out there and press my face into the dirt. The first time it happened, I thought she was bluffing, but she stood over me like a statue all night long.

I shiver, remembering the feeling of critters that came out to crawl on me in the darkness while the cold soil had me shivering all night long.

Master takes me from her, kicking the shattered glass from the dustbin to land directly where I sleep.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to placate him. He grabs my blanket from the floor, sending some more glass across the room as he sweeps it in the air.

“If you’re so damn lightheaded, then you should lay down.”

Jagged shards reflect off of the lamp light in the room and I try not to cry out as they dig into my skin while I do as I'm told. I know better than to argue once they’re this angry.

My keeper sweeps a path for Master to get to bed. As soon as he strips and does just that, she lets herself out with the slam of a door.

I reach out to that voice in my head, trying with all my might to get them to listen, to help me.

I pray and beg and plead as I attempt to remain still on the floor so that the glass doesn’t embed itself further into my skin. Silent tears fall down my cheeks, my eyes trained on the window to the side of the bed while I wish with every part of my being that I could grow wings and just fly away from this place of torture.

Master’s steady breathing is a sign he fell asleep without a problem, which is normal for him. He sleeps in peace while I’m left to suffer on the floor, laying on shards of glass, broken and crying.

A kink in my neck has me shifting ever so slightly, and moonlight reflects on something under the bed. I almost gasp when I realize what it is. A large chunk of glass with perfectly serrated edges.

Carefully, I reach my hand out for it. It instantly cuts my palm, making me jerk my hand back for a moment. I smile to myself as I slowly remove one of my socks, being sure to remain silent. Attempting to sneak out at night when I was younger made Master a light sleeper, but I haven’t tried that in a few years, so maybe now is my lucky break.

My first instinct is to slice into that scar on my wrist,give him the middle finger as he wakes and sees hissacrificedead at his feet. But that would still give him access to my blood. What if this power he’s trying to gain helps him bring me back just to torture me more? He would do it too. He’s that kind of man, vengeful and evil even in death.

I was old enough when he stole me to know that he’s a liar, but I can no longer remember what is true when it comes to this world of ancient power he believes in. He very well could have a spell to steal from an immortal being, but I never want to find out.

With my sock off, I wrap the fabric around the base of the shard, protecting my hand as I debate on what to do with this gift.

Master’s breathing is still quiet and steady. My festering rage builds, coming from somewhere deep within me. All of the suffering he puts me through and yet he always sleeps like a baby.

Not this time.

The plan comes to me quickly and I draw on that anger to propel me forward, not letting me stray from the path that might finally free me. This is a gift, a moment granted to me by the universe, and I will not squander it.

Carefully, I watch his sleeping form as I silently rise to stand. My blanket pools at my feet as I maneuver closer to him.

In books, there is always this moment where the main character will question if they should kill their villain or not. Some do and some don’t.

But for me, there’s no question in my mind. I watch the man who stole my life from me sleep in his large bed that looks warm, cozy, and much too big for just one person.

Yet, he never let me sleep in it. He never let me sleepin any bed. He never let me eat the foods I wanted to eat. He forced me to change in front of him, letting my keeper whip me while I kneeled at his feet, bare and trembling.

He’s the kind of villain that doesn’t deserve to live.

Without hesitation, I press the glass into his neck and swipe as quickly as I can. His eyes shoot open, their gray soulless depths seeming to ignite with life briefly as he grabs for his throat which already bubbles up with blood. The sight is worthy of writing into a book because I finally slayed my villain.

It takes everything in me not to stand there and watch as he struggles for his last breath, to actually see his gaze devoid of life. But I know I'm on borrowed time.

The sound of his gurgling fills the air as he thrashes, an inky black stain coating his hands in the dark. I move to the window, watching for as long as I can while he fights to stay in this world. Then, I open the latch and hurry out into the night.

My feet land in the brush, making me wince, but I push forward. I should have grabbed more socks or a jacket; definitely should have taken his shoes. But I didn’t, and I don’t have time to go back. There is only time to run.

Taking off into the woods, I’m determined to make it further than I ever have before. Master won’t be coming for me, and hopefully it will take time for his followers to coordinate a search party. I could be states away by then, maybe even in a different country if I play my cards right.

Fallen sticks cut into my feet as I sprint, branches hitting me in the face that have surely caused little cuts along all of my exposed flesh from the way they burn. But I don’t stop; I don’t look back. I just keep running.

My lungs burn, the muscles in my legs aching as time passes me by, but I keep going. I will not allow that vileman to take anything else from me. This time, there’s nothing that will be able to bring me back.

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