My limbs feel heavy like someone drained my blood and filled my veins with lead. Despair is buried in my bones, leaking into my chest and making my heart pound frantically. I don't want to be here, but I can't move from the spot on the floor.
Did they drug me?
This odd calm is washing over me in waves, but it feels fake and artificial, as if created by something other than my mind.
A snicker echoes against the barn walls, and something cold grips at my neck, forcing me to look up at the ceiling with a migraine building up behind my eyelids.
"Well, well, well..." Felicia whistles, seemingly satisfied. She is standing over me victoriously. "It looks like the mighty lion has finally fallen,"
"Is she dead?" Zoya asks from behind.
"No," Felicia replies. "It seems we didn't use enough sedative; she is still keeping herself awake, but she is struggling,"
"This won't kill her, right?" Clover asks.
"Not at all," Felicia laughs t
Ryan I glare out through the window. Amelia still isn't back from milking the damn cows. Why is it taking her so long? And why did I buy Dom Pérignon? I slur around the champagne inside my glass for a while, annoyed beyond relief that the woman still isn't here when I prepared dinner. One could mistake me for a foolish man in love. Like an idiot, I jumped into my car earlier today, and drove to the wealthy parts of our city, and bought the most expensive steak I could find. Amelia was so angry at me this morning, and I thought some gifts might make her hate me less. It's sad, but when I saw Billy buy his secret date one of those Louis Vuitton bags, I got one for Amelia too, hoping it would turn her on to see one in the living flesh. I even had some lady guide me through the makeup section and hand me all kinds of stuff I thought Amelia would appreciate. For example, lipgloss for her plump pinks, perfume, other shower articles, some fou
AmeliaWhen I open my eyes, a migraine sucker punches me so fast that I wish I had just kept my eyes closed. I see stars, galaxies, and bright showers of glittering comets; everything is spinning, and my throat is drier than the deserts of Sahara—no matter how hard I click it, I can't wash away the taste of vomit.It takes a while to realize those spinning lights are actually the chandelier hanging in the ceiling. I'm inside Ryan's cabin again, lying on the couch like a corpse, and I can hear something sounding like it's getting fried in the kitchen; even the air smells delicious.But I'm not hungry, too in pain to even think about food in my current state. Looking down at my arm, I notice pink bandages are neatly covering it.I squint my eyes; there are names written there: Courtney with a heart following her name, Billy scribbled something hard to read, Giovani can actually write like people, and then further up, I see Ryan's name framed between two cro
After Ryan's lips leave mine, I feel as empty as a shell, already missing his mouth on mine. He is leaning further back on the couch, giving me space, but I can still feel his breath on my skin. Cautiously, I lift my chin to examine his face, and the picture stops my heart. What I observe isn't the emotionless man with storms brewing behind his eyes; I see the passion and the flames—his eyes are almost entirely black. I barely dare to breathe. I'm afraid of the lustful expression on Ryan's face, terrified of where this might lead since I know we both want each other. The atmosphere is electric. And my pulse is already elevating at the thought of kissing him again, but I'm also afraid, scared his kiss might not have meant anything romantic. "What did that kiss mean?" Embarrassingly enough, my voice comes out like a hoarse whisper, still weak from whatever drug I was injected with. Ryan, however, doesn't seem to mind, something resembling curiosity flar
Ryan Dinner had Amelia passing out almost directly—the tiny terror is snoring on the couch, collapsed with both her arms and legs akimbo. She is rather cute, but I have a feeling she would attempt to murder me in my sleep if I gave her such a compliment. To be honest, Amelia isn't the type of woman I would go for if I were looking for a one-nightstand. Usually, I'm into tall girls with perky breasts and lush lips, while Amelia is short and kinda flatchested. Yet Amelia makes me hornier than anyone else. Her voice is sick—breathy and a bit hoarse. Mesmeric. Thinking about how it would sound having her cry out my name into the wind keeps me up at night. I'm so screwed. And not only that, but Amelia comes with this natural beauty that makes her hard to forget. Without wearing an ounce of makeup, her eyes glow in this shade of emerald green that makes it seem as though she can look straight into your soul, and while she is skinny, her ass is volup
Ryan Darkness has fallen, and I'm alone inside my cabin, staring at my demonic reflection in the mirror. My fingers are busy fixing my bowtie, and once satisfied, I smirk in reward. I'm dressed in a black suit, feeling like a modern grim reaper; even my eyes are fermenting storms because I mean business when the fedora is on. Hatred, revenge, calamity, and judgment, only ugly emotions and thoughts rummage through my head. I'm not a good man, probably colder than the devil himself, but I care about those closest to me. And if I could choose between selling my soul to him down there or saving the ones I love, I would go with the first option every day of the week. A knock sounds on the door, and I turn around with a cruel smile—it seems Giovani has arrived with Felicia. I walk to open the door, fascinated with the fantastic view of Felicia down on her knees on my porch. Giovani is standing behind her, keeping her up by holding her hair with his
Amelia"What do you mean Ryan will tie Felicia to a damn chair and have her hover right above the infected?! And how can you be okay with this? Are you mad?!"I'm boiling with rage and glaring at Courtney with fire in my eyes. Talking hurts my throat, especially yelling, but I have to speak up! Violence in any form is not tolerable in my eyes.It doesn't matter that Felicia hurt me; she shouldn't be tormented for it! The girl is sick in the head—what she needs is a psychologist or whoever crazy people talk with!"I didn't think it would upset you!" Courtney is sitting in Ryan's kitchen and tapping the empty chair next to her. She looks too unbothered for my liking. "It will be over soon anyway; why won't you take a seat?"Maybe I should?Since when have Ryan listened to me anyway?First, I freeze up at Courtney's words and drift forward like a ghost. I'm about to sit down, but then I shake my head. "I can't sit down while Ryan is out
Zoya I was born in Sweden, but people often ask me where I come from, thinking just because I'm a woman of color, I can't possibly have been born and raised here. And as a person, I rarely show emotion. I'm a force of nature, an assassin trained to kill. There are no friends on the battlefield called life, and I don't trust anyone. I was handed a knife at three and hired to protect lady Felicia from a young age, but today, I'm putting an end to that. I'm standing in the courtyard, locking my eyes on the scene taking place on the wall. Giovani is removing the duct tape from Felicia's lips, and then I hear her piercing scream. It sets my heart in motion until I can no longer breathe. I did this to Felicia, to my master, but the reason I'm horrified is that of my lack of tears. I wrap my arms around me, and then I stand there, hugging myself while the snow circles down from the sky. In my eyes, the white color has turned to red. Am I even
Amelia The scent of firewood is drifting through the cabin. I'm sitting next to Ryan on the couch, wearing nothing but my nightgown. Neither one of us is speaking. Instead, I'm staring at my naked feet and listening to the universe laugh at me. Ryan inhales deeply and glances down at me. His fingers are centimeters away from my thighs, resting on the couch. "Are you mad at me?" His question cuts into me like a knife, and I pull my lips into my mouth, already breaking apart at what I'm going to say. I've always believed myself to be an angel, but it seems even someone like me is flawed and just as ugly as everyone else. "No, I'm not mad at you." I meet his blue, concerned eyes with a sad smile. This will be a tremendous step for us. I'm about to pour out my heart, and it's not easy giving someone your complete trust. "I should be mad at you, but..." I have to bite my lips to hold back my tears. "Felicia hurt me, again and again with that knife, and...