Page 39 of Grave Possession

A shot rings out, and he flies back, out of my field of view. “No!” I wail. “Ghost! Get up! GET UP!” I scream, but I can’t see him. I can’t hear anything over thepounding in my ears and my own broken sobbing screams. I’m too focused on Ghost and my own despair that I completely miss the homicidal maniac storming over to me.

Johnson’s fist cracks into my jaw, sending my face flying in the opposite direction of where Ghost lies unmoving. He yanks my face back to his with his hand woven into my hair. “Your death is going to last a fuckin’ eternity, darlin’.”

“F-fuck y-you,” I stutter, spitting in his face.

“You will, over and over again. Until you’re beggin’ for me to kill you,” he growls, lowering his face to be level with mine.

“We’ll see,” I mumble. He quirks his head, either from curiosity or lack of hearing me properly. It doesn’t matter why he did it. What does matter though, is now he’s let his guard down and exposed himself.

He killed Ghost. He killed Victoria. He raped you. Ruined your life so completely you’ll never survive this.

Rage and heartache overflow as my box of emotions implodes. My un-cuffed hand flies out from behind me, shocking him. With all my remaining strength, I thrust the knife toward him, firmly imbedding it into the underside of his jaw. The blade pierces up through his tongue, breaks through his palate, and stops before reaching his brain.

Johnson falls to the floor, gasping and sputtering. Crawling away from me as I fumble with frozen fingers to untie the rope looped around my midsection.

Fuck sakes, Mallory. Come on, he’s getting away.

Finally the knot falls apart and I unwind myself fromthe chair. On legs made of jelly, I stumble over to where Johnson is lying, trying to muster up the will to pull the knife out.

Stupid fuck, doesn’t he know you’re supposed to leave the weapon in the wound so you don’t bleed out?

Jumping on top of him, I drive my fist into his face. His head flies to the side.

Tit for tat.

I grab his hair and yank his face back to look at me as I pull the blade out from below his chin. Heat spreads through my body as I feel myself come alive.

This. This is what I crave. The control. The power.

His eyes cross as he starts to lose consciousness.

Oh, I don’t fucking think so.

“Wakey, wakey, darlin',” I sneer. Dragging the knife down his chest. It cuts clean through his shirt with just a bit of pressure.

“I want to fuck these perky tits,” I whisper to myself, reliving how he climbed on top of me, and violated me before I passed out. His eyes snap to mine, and he tries to push me off. His attempts are futile and weak willed.

What a pathetic fuckwit.

With ruthless finesse, I get his arms pinned beneath my legs. Leaning in close, I say, “Make this good for me or I’ll feed you your own liver.” Sitting atop his abdomen, I press the lethally sharp blade to his sternum. He shakes his head back and forth violently as I drag the knife up and down his chest, thrusting between his floppy pecs the same way he rutted against my flesh.

“STOP!” he finally wails.

“The louder you scream the deeper I dig,” I taunt.Increasing the pressure on the blade, I watch his skin split apart like butter until I swear I can see the bone beneath the muscle and tissue. His screams bleed into manic laughter, stopping my revenge.

“You’re not so different from me after all, darlin’,” he gurgles, blood pouring from the sides of his mouth.

“I’m nothing like you,” I growl.

“Yeah, you are.” He chuffs a laugh again, blood spewing and splattering all over me as I hover over him.

“NO, I’M NOT!” I scream. He chokes out another laugh, and something inside me snaps. I stab the knife into his chest. “Shut up!”Slice.“I’m not like you!”Stab.“Fuck you!” I plunge the knife in and out, in and out, sobbing uncontrollably. All I see is red, red, red. Then nothing. Darkness envelops me.

I’m drenched from top to bottom, sweat seeping steadily from my pores, when the blackness recedes. It’s so hot it’s making me dizzy. My eyes flutter, light filtering back in, but the sweat clings to my lashes, blurring my vision. Fuck, I feel like I’m about to pass out. I wipe my face but I’m so wet it barely helps at all. Looking around, all I see is carnage.

Blood saturates me. Running down my naked skin in rivers of crimson as it drips from my hair. The haze fully lifts, and beneath me Johnson’s chest cavity looks like it just went through a meat grinder.

I rise, staggering on shaky legs above him.What have I done? My vision falters as I take in the savagery.Whathappened? I didn’t do that. I couldn’t have done that.My head shakes erratically back and forth as I try to rid the image from my brain, but reality holds on, showcasing me what I’ve done.

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