Page 112 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

Before he can finish his sentence, I’m on him. My fist connects with the center of his face, hitting him in the nose.

It…hurts.

“Auch,” I cry out, jumping back and cradling my fist to my chest.

“What the fuck, Minnie? What was that for?”

Blood spurts from his nose, dripping down his chin and chest in thick rivulets.

Despite my lack of powers, that was a pretty good punch, wasn’t it? But it was so damn painful. I don’t know if I can use the same fist to hit him again.

While he’s holding on to his nose and muttering a string of curses, I take advantage of his distraction to move to his side.

With my right fist retired, I use my elbow to hit him between his ribs.

Just as I expected, he doesn’t see my attack coming, and in no time, he’s gasping for breath.

“Come at me, Vitry. I don’t want this to be one-sided.”

In between wheezing and blinking back tears, he stares at me in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“You did deceive me, and it is my right to get revenge, but I am not so cruel as to attack a defenseless man. So come at me,” I say and motion with my hand.

I move my right foot forward while keeping the left behind, assuming a fighting stance.

Vitry is still staring at me. He makes no effort to move. He’s just standing there, frozen, his blood still pouring down his face.

“Come at me, Vitry! I know it’s your first time, but have some courage! I promised I wouldn’t kill you. So come, hit me.”

“What?”

“I said hit me! Come on!”

He blinks.

Then instead of charging at me, he does something wholly unexpected.

He crashes to the ground, rolling onto his back and releasing a loud, piercing laugh.

Now it’s my turn to stare at him in confusion.

He laughs and laughs and laughs until tears are coursing down his cheeks, mixing with the blood from before. He laughs so much, he’s barely breathing.

I clench my fists.

I should have been the one making him cry just as I should have been the one to stop his breathing, but not likethis. Why does it feel as though he’s mocking me again?

“Are you laughing at me?” I demand, stomping my foot against the gravelly floor.

He shakes his head, unable to speak due to his persisting fit of laughter.

His amusement only serves to makemeangrier.

“Vitry!” I shout.

“I’m not laughing at you, tiny darling. Promise,” he chokes out. “I’m laughing at myself.”

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