Page 100 of Die for You
She instantly releases me. “Go, do what you must.”
What I must means detain her until Gianna can do whatever the hell she wants to her.
That can wait because as I finally am free, I see that Elena is gone, as is the pervert who was hovering.
As gracefully as I can, I make my way over to the stage. “Where did the little girl go?” I ask a boy, pointing at Elena’s empty chair.
He chews his lip, not making eye contact. These fragile souls are wounded and damaged beyond repair. Is there not a kind person within these walls? If I cannot save these children, then I will burn this place to the fucking ground and take them with me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I am Elena’s friend.”
The boy lifts his chin, sorrow laden in his green eyes. He points over his shoulder to a door that leads outside.
I don’t hesitate.
I push aside anyone who stands in my way and burst out that door. It’s pitch black, and the noise from inside interferes with me hearing anything that may hint to where Elena is. She hasn’t been gone long. I doubt the asshole would take her toward the house, so I rip off my heels and turn right. I run down the hill to where the shrubbery is thick and no one is in sight.
It’s the perfect place to remain hidden while destroying an innocent child’s life.
With my heart in my throat, I beg whoever may be looking over me that I’m not too late. But when I hear a pained scream, I know that I am.
I see a small, abandoned cottage a few yards away, and even in the darkness, the silhouette I see brings back memories which only enrage me further.
I can see Elena’s front pressed to the wall of the cottage, her attacker behind her, ripping off her pretty blue dress. She is screaming, her tiny arms fighting back, but he punches her in the back of the head. Her screams soon fade as she goes limp.
That doesn’t stop him, however, as he tosses her to the muddy ground. Her blue dress, the one she was so proud to wear, is now ruined.
Just as he unzips his trousers, I come up behind him and ram my stiletto into the back of his skull. He wavers on his feet, unsure what just happened.
I’m about to show him.
Grabbing his upper arm, I spin him around to face me. He is confused by the commotion, but soon regains his composure.
“The little girl, she was like that when I—” He stops mid-sentence, raising his arm and touching the high heel that is still embedded into his skull. “What is happening?”
“What is happening is…well…I’m about to fucking kill you.”
His attention drops to the other shoe in my hand, and he soon realizes, like Cinderella, I’m missing a shoe. But this is no fairy tale.
This is a horror movie.
I drive the other heel into his groin.
I never miss.
It takes him all of three seconds before the pain kicks in—no pun intended.
He howls like a little bitch, his eyes wide as he cannot believe the sight of a shoe sticking out of his groin. He attempts to take it out, but I kick him straight between the legs, the heel embedding deeper into his groin.
He drops to his knees, and this sight would be fucking comical as he has a heel embedded into the back of his head and one between the legs. But there’s nothing funny about what this asshole was about to do.
Looking at Elena, her form is replaced with mine.
I see myself begging Father Merry to stop.
I see the men in that filthy basement, licking their lips like starved beasts.
So yanking the shoe out from the back of this motherfucker’s head, I jam it into the side of his throat.
