Page 36 of Love of the Egoist
Grabbing Greg’s wrists, he hauled him toward the toilet. Heavy pants followed the sweat beading his forehead. The man was heavy or Kuon was too weak to work faster, but the time stretched and panic settled in.
Sucking in a deep breath he wiped his forehead, then wrapped Greg’s arms around the base of a toilet bowl, cuffing them behind. Checking the restraints twice, Kuon tore Greg’s shirt to pieces and twisted it into a gag before putting it into the unconscious man’s mouth.
He leaned against the cold tile wall and closed his eyes for a second, catching his breath. The exit was downstairs, but how to cross that space undetected? Once again he imagined the house floor plan, using the rooms he had been in to navigate.
Fuck, I have to try the stairs. Even if I get caught, it’s still better than sitting on my ass, waiting for Yugo to use my body for his sick pleasure. And I will just waste time opening each and every door looking for backstairs that might not exist.
The detective inched the door open. His sweaty palm gripped cold wood when he peered out to an empty corridor. Smiling at his luck, he jogged toward the stairs. The burgundy carpet bounced under his bare feet.
“Where do you think you are going?” A honeyed voice resounded in Kuon’s ears as door hinges squeaked behind him.
Chills ran down his spine. He looked back to see a vicious terrifying flame glowing in Yugo’s eyes.
Kuon flinched and let out a short nervous laugh. His pretend smile probably looked fake on his horrified face, he could feel it falling off.
People say that a cornered wild animal, feeling his death to be close, is capable of a reckless act, and the brain of a cornered human works with triple capacity. This is why a man in a stressful situation could do things unnatural to his usual way of thinking. A reckless but crystal-clear idea bloomed in Kuon’s brain.
A window.
The only exit Kuon could think of was a simple glass window at the far end of the corridor.
The second floor…Kuon looked up, measuring the height of the ceiling.Nine feet high? Even if the ground floor is higher than this, plus four and a half feet to the foundation, if I don’t break my neck I will have enough time to vanish. Yugo will never jump after me and if I am lucky, there will be no one around.
Having the only entertainment in his life—a window—Kuon had noticed that people barely walked around the mansion. The dogs were released only after sunset. It gave Kuon a strong sense of Yugo relying on technology too much. If that was the case, his security probably watched the roads more than the inner yard. He could get to a car or hide in the forest. Whatever he did would be better than sitting and waiting.
The horror on his face changed to a youthful ardor; Kuon laughed, getting high on his insane idea. He relaxed, a smile played on his lips as he tried to make Yugo believe he was about to surrender. He even raised his hands. His smile changed too, turning a little sly, a little guilty. He watched Yugo, devouring his every move, the slightest change in his attitude, posture.
Kuon switched off his brain, letting animal instincts take over.
He neared the man, still holding his hands high in the air as if admitting defeat. His frisky smile burst out with short laughter as he looked Yugo in the eye, questioning ‘what’s next’, like a naughty child awaiting punishment. Yugo cocked his head. He looked curious, even puzzled.
Now. Kuon lunged forward, putting all his force into one powerful strike, right into Yugo’s solar plexus.
With a sharp exhale Yugo folded. Kuon sent a knee strike to his jaw, pushed him aside, and sprinted toward the window. Blue sky shone beyond. He had never seen such a clear blue in his life. The color of freedom, the symbol of hope and liberty.
Just put my feet against the ground, let my knees work asshock absorbers and roll.Covering his head, he plunged into the window, as an Olympian swimmer might, jumping as far as he could into the pool, trying to win every small advantage from the start.
“No, stop, you idiot!” Yugo’s shout ringing in his ears.
The window shrieked, crushing, as fragments of broken glass sank into his skin. His stomach leaped to his throat as the ground rushed toward him. The pain exceeded his imagination. Trying to gain control over his landing, he barely managed to shift his gravity center and make sure he would land on his feet. He glanced down. His breath stuck in his throat. The broken glass scattered all over the ground under him.
Shit…
Sharp glass sank in his left foot as he smashed against the soggy soil. His knees buckled and he tumbled forward, wrecking against the ground with his palms and forearms. His body continued with a basic roll, over his left shoulder, and onto his back. The pain prevented him from getting to his feet to complete it. He rocked rearward on his back. Losing control over his body and the events, he stretched his arms out and hit the ground to suppress the energy backfire, but the kickback had already hit his head. A muffled groan broke through his lips as glass cut further into his forearm and back.
Everything dimmed. Jolts of pain flashed through his head. For a moment, he thought consciousness would slip from him.
Don’t pass out, don’t fucking pass out… you are dead if you do.
He tried to relax, taking a few deep breaths, letting his body recover. As soon as the bloody veil lifted from his eyes and the ringing noise in his ears subsided, he managed to look about. It required all his willpower to make his body obey and stand up.
A piece of glass dug deeper into his foot.
“Shhhhhh….” he hissed, bent over and pulled it out. Blood splashed over the ground, disappearing into the wet dirt as he stepped forward.
The dim disc of the sun hid behind a shroud of showery cloud, and the perfect blue he’d seen through the window disappeared. Kuon’s feet, covered with mud, numbed. Icy wind flogged his exposed skin, tearing droplets of blood from his fingertips.
The noise raging in his ears prevented him from thinking clearly. Through his murky tunnel vision he barely registered where he was going. Blood poured down his right hand, leaving a path of reddish-black stains on the grass. It resembled a twisted motif of the Grimm Brothers fairytale, but instead of the trail of breadcrumbs, there was a clear path of Kuon’s unique DNA.
