Page 123 of Voracious

I’m not killing myself, I’m saving him.

He shouldn’t be here. He was supposed to be at home and safe.

The pressure against my neck doesn’t increase but I struggle to breathe as Anton rises from the fucking dead and walks into the room. There’s no blood on him despite me looking at his dead body beside Dima’s feet. There’s two of them, he had a fucking twin.

“DIMA!” I scream as the alive Anton gets closer.

This Anton is faster, and he has no fear as he fits a metal bar against Dima’s throat and kicks into the back of his knees. He increases the pressure, pulling Dima’s head back and digging his knee into the gunshot wound as he says, “It’s been a long time, princess, have you missed me?”

The voice. It’s his voice, the one that used to stand outside the door, the 104 days.

He digs his fingers into the bullet wound on Dima’s shoulder to stop him fighting and it has me frozen. I can’t win. It’s not a game. But Dima can, he can live.

My tears fall as he tries to push his fingers around the metal bar against his throat and chokes, “Your dad’s coming, don’t do it.”

I have a dad, he’ll save Dima. They’re friends and it will be okay. As long as Dima lives and gets away from Yulia, he’ll be safe. She can’t melt him. He’ll be hidden like my sticker. Filling with resolve in my decision, I press the knife harder under my jaw and I’m me again.

“As soon as he leaves, I’ll do it,” I say calmly.

I’ve found a death I’m scared of. It’s not mine, it’s Dima’s. His screams don’t make me turn, it’s better this way.

As long as Dima is safe it’s okay.

I’ll wait for him on Venus.

He promised to meet me.

“Look at me!” he screams.

I can’t, he’ll be sad, and it hurts.

“Let me be selfish and a coward!”

Two gunshots go off as Yulia fires into Dima’s thigh.

“Vanya don’t!” he screams as I take a step towards her to get her to stop.

“Let him go!” I’m begging her when I promised myself I would never do it again. “Please, I’ll do it, slit my throat, as soon as you let him go.”

She’s a twisted fucking bitch and shakes her head with dark urgency.

“Not until you do as I said.” Her voice drops, becoming conversational, the tone that comes with the mental pain. “Your father is the devil, but his grief will stop him.”

A light fills the room showing the not-dead Anton’s face as he looks at something on his phone and then to Yulia. They have a silent conversation, and he sighs as Dima struggles to get out from the bar. He’s losing more blood, and he’s slower. He’s usually fast, I’ve seen him fight, he can anticipate his opponent, but he can’t now.

Because I drugged him.

It’s my fault.

They were right and I’m wrong.

I hurt everyone.

I flinch at another loud gunshot. It presses the knife against my neck in a shallow line, but I don’t feel it because something hits the floor.

It’s Dima, he slumps to the floor.

I look at him then.

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