Page 48 of Dark Prince


?Chapter Twenty Six

?Cordelia

Irip the door openand jump into the hall, prepared to fight who the fuck ever I find, but no one is here. They suck at guarding their prisoner. Then again I was tied to a chair, maybe they didn’t think I’d break free, why though? Because I’m a woman, bad news for them. Never underestimate a determined woman, we’ll wreak havoc on everything just because you said we couldn’t.

Taking a look around at the hallway I see, nothing. There's fucking nothing but the concrete floor and some bad chipped paint in the walls. It looks like they used to be green. Not a pretty green either, that nasty green that makes you want to vomit. Whoever invented or came up with that color should be shot.

There's a few doors that I could try, maybe there's something stabby in there I could use. Tapping my fingers together like an evil villain, I proceed through the hallway until I reach door number one. Tell me folks, did I make the right choice? I twist the knob and it creaks a little and ta-da. Fucking empty. Rude.

Onto door number two. I have a good feeling about this one as I rub my hands together in anticipation. I don't even bother with the knob this time, I kick the door and watch the wood splinter at the frame. A laugh bubbles out of me when I see a large array of weapons. Idiots. Leaving their things so very unprotected. It'd be a shame if someone took them. Bursting through the room, I spot several knives and a few guns that I could easily equip and use to fight my way out of here.

Grabbing a few different holsters, I strap them on over my shoulders, around my waist and thigh, even on my ankles and wrists. I stuff guns and knives in each one and pick up the final two blades with a deep breath. I don't need Axel to save me, I don't need anyone. I am going to save myself and it'll rain blood today.

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Past

MY BLOOD BOILS AS Iwatch my mother sitting on the couch cuddling him. Clayton pretends nothing is wrong with what happens at night after she's gone to sleep. She thinks our life is perfect, she found the perfect man. Little does she know what he's truly like. There's an itch in my soul that is waiting for relief, one that can't be touched. My fists clenched around the hilt of the knife as I stand in the kitchen, waiting for him to come in here. I will kill him. I will put a knife through his body so he can see what it feels like to be rendered helpless.

I will never be helpless again.

The rage that consumes me is too much after what he did. He forced me to do so many horrible things, he forced me to take him, every single night. He told me I was made just for him, I was the only girl he ever truly loved.

Lies.

He never loved me, he just used my body. He touched me without permission because he wanted it. No one will ever touch me again, unless I let it happen. I am the one in control.

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Present

ISHAKE THE MEMORYof the first time I held a knife with the intention of killing someone and steady myself, completely calm and ready to kill anyone here. Even if they're here by orders and they haven't touched me, they allowed it to happen. Everyone will die, by my hand.

With careful steps, I poke my head back through the doorway, a little worried I alerted someone when I kicked the door in, but again, there's no one. Is it just myself and the two guys? That'd be a pity, I really want to kill more than two, I need the release. The rush of being in control after everything I've endured.

Raped.

Kidnapped.

Forced into submission.

All of these things have happened to me, and I don't like how out of control it's made me feel. There's no center to this chaos. No rhyme or reason. Everything has a reason, it has to or the world falls into turmoil and I can't have that.

I hear footsteps down the hall so I tuck myself against the doorframe and wait, my heart racing from the possibilities, they're limitless right now. I don't know who's going to appear and that's so fucking exciting. Are they going to fight back, or will this be a slaughter. I don't know and I truly can't wait to find out.

When the footsteps stop, I hear a whisper, “What happened to the door?” A man says, or a soon to be dead man.

“Not sure,“ another soon to be dead man replies back.

“Ready yourself.” The other one shuffles his feet and I do my best not to dance on my toes when I hear them walking towards me.

Blood rushes to my ears as I spot the hands of one of them holding a gun out in front of them coming through the doorway. I know there's two, so I'll need to act quickly. I grab his wrist and fling him against the wall, stabbing a knife into his neck quickly, ripping it through the side to the front. The red splatter decorates the wall as the other guy jumps for me, but I'm faster. I sidestep him and sink the knife into his throat, right in the Adam's apple, slicing through him like butter. His eyes are wide as he drops the gun and reaches up for his neck.

“It'll be over soon.” I say booping his nose as he stumbles forward. “Night night.” I give a little wave and step over his body. Two down, who knows how many more to go.