Page 9 of The Dire Legacy

Unblinking. Fixed on a hidden terror some ominous distance above her.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Scraping my knees under me, I pull my softening cock from her and make the mistake of glancing down.

A dark purple stain blemishes her lower belly.

What the fuck?

No. Oh, no. It was me. It’s not just my hands. Or my spit.

I can’t even believe this. I did this to her.

Terror and pain wash over me. She’s gone. The only person in the world who thought there was any good in me, and I killed her.

Damned gloves. They didn’t save her. Ripping them off, I can feel her for the first time.

The smooth skin of her temple as I brush a strand of hair. The soft lashes of her eyes that are slowly glossing with the murky film of death.

Her hand fits so naturally in mine. If only I had been able to hold it like this before. Skin to skin. Warmth is fading from her fingers so quickly, I press them to my chest. Perhaps if I share my own heat, she’ll come back to me?

Tears burn my face at the futility of it. She’s gone. Her lips are turning blue and the color in her cheeks is fading to a sallow pale. My stomach twists and bile scalds its way up my throat. Heaving up the water that has turned vile, my traitorous cock sticks to my naked thigh, still slick with her arousal.

There’s no way in hell I can go back home.

I am the monster.

A grievous roar erupts from my chest

“Angie? Michael? We need to bug out. I hope I’m not disturbing any—” Elly steps over the broken glass and stops. Her eyes grow big as she looks at us.

At me.

My poor Angie, half naked, contorted. And it’s my fault.

“What did you do?” Her eyes pinch as she rushes forward. “What the fuck did you do?” The shrill question barely leaves her lips as she tries to push me away. Her face turns red and she balls her fists and starts flailing at me.

“I didn’t mean to!” Her nails scratch at my shirt and neck as she swings her hands haphazardly at me. When she goes for my face, I grab her wrists to keep her from clawing my eyes.

Her scream could shatter glass.

I let go as fast as I can, but blisters form on her wrists as I watch.

My God. I didn’t know someone’s eyes could open that wide.

She throws her arms above her as she collapses to the floor, just feet away from Angie. Digging her heels, she kicks manically, twisting and rolling as the scream continues to deafen me.

Angry red marks surge up her arms and disappear under her sleeves.

At least the screaming stops. Her mouth opens and closes soundlessly while her fingers dig furrows into her neck.

Thrashing, her foot almost connects with my knee.

My cock is still hanging out when I stand up quickly and back away, watching her chest spasm and her hips jerk towards the ceiling before she collapses limp on the ground.

Her eyes. Jesus, she’s staring at me as her pupils broaden and fill the blue.

I have to get the fuck out of here. If Cap sees this, I’m dead. I knew touching Angie was a bad idea. Why did I let her talk me into it?

Because it felt so damned good I couldn’t stop.

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