Marissa’s gaze shifted slightly, wondering if it was still too late to dive out the window and make a run for it. Maybe Melanie was bluffing and the drop wouldn’t kill her. And if she was some supernatural creature surely, she’d be fine. The hairs on her neck were standing. The room was dead silent. They were waiting for her to give her answer. Though she was focused on her escape, she was also very aware of the men’s bodies. They were prepared to shoot her at the slightest suspicious movement. She did not like her odds at all right now. Even if she could use the window, she’d probably be riddled with bullets before she could jump out. Advertisements
Marissa tilted her head as she regarded the stranger standing across the room. The dark-skinned woman looked exhausted, and there were dark circles under her brown eyes. Her jet-black hair was cut short and hidden under an equally dark cap. The woman held her hands to her mouth, her face covered in shock and concern.
Sehjada jumped from her mattress, her hair wild and damp like her bedsheets from her sweat. She palmed her face, breathing erratically. From the space between her fingers she could see the image of Marissa. Her best friend’s bloody face stared back at her with dead eyes and she screamed. She swung her hand at her sheets then swung her feet off the bed, tripping over her slippers as she tried to escape. At the last minute, she managed to grab onto her dresser before she could hit the thing. Then, she collapsed on the floor. Her body shook and she wrapped her arms around herself. Every night for the past two months she went through this. The guilt of aiding in the death of her best friend had consumed her. She had no idea how to stop it either. She was sure she would have been fine. Marissa was a monster. She had to die. They all had to die. “Why won’t you leave me alone?” She held her head with both hands and …
It’s been about a month since I wrote the last chapter of “A Feral Affair.” I don’t really have an excuse. I am a procrastinator at heart and because of who I am as a person I cannot even say when I will begin to write the rest of it. The plan is to start putting it all together over the weekend. To be fairly honest, this is the most active I have been with posting the chapters seeing as it usually takes me about a year or so tops to even get one out. We won’t talk about the three year long hiatus I was on either. Dark period of time that was. Oh what a time it was. We shant talk about it the same way we won’t talk about the year that shall not be named (The one between 2015 and 2017). But it’s not as though I don’t know where I am going. I already started writing the chapter, but it’s a bit difficult to get the exact direction I want …
There was blood everywhere. It covered the buildings, matted the asphalt, dripped off the benches and its scent–thick and overbearing–coated the air. Dead bodies were strewn across the street. Limbs were scattered. Screams reverberated in a symphony of madness, orchestrated by the wild beasts running amuck. No one was safe. Running? Pointless. Screaming? Useless. Fighting? You could try, but you were merely postponing the inevitable. Death would come swiftly regardless.
It was halfway through the afternoon when Marissa and her sister, Melanie Coldwell, woke up. Both women had a rough day yesterday. Needing a listening ear, Marissa took a trip to Melanie’s place. Although Melanie was reluctant to talk about her day, Marissa wasted no time venting. She remembered all too clearly how her encounter with Jamoy went. When she finished her tale, Melanie’s face was practically glowing.
Marissa sighed and sipped the warm French vanilla cappuccino in her hand while focusing her body on relaxing. The warmth of the beverage traveled down her throat and radiated out to warm her entire body. A jolt of energy came with the warmth that she gladly welcomed.