Page 273 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

I turn my attention back to my own survival, letting him try to stop his impending death that’s now only seconds away.

There is no panic. No fear.

Just focus—and the cold, clean hum of urgency in my blood.

My forearms burn, sawing the tiny blade across the thick rope, but finally, it gives and falls to the dirty ground.

Just like Hank’s body, lying lifeless only a few feet away, a dark pool of blood spreading around him.

I lean over to the table, bracing myself with one hand and stretching to reach the heavier knife just a little farther away.

I stretch, the rope burning around my ankles, but I grab it.

I saw through the bindings and they give just as footsteps echo in the hall outside.

Someone else is coming.

Only one more—if I’m lucky.

I slip the bloody knife into my grip and wipe my palm down Hank’s shirt to dry it.

My heart is hammering, but my mind?

Clearer than it’s ever been.

I position myself against the cool stone wall, the knife loose and ready in my hand.

They brought me here and wanted a show.

Well, I’ll give them a bloodbath.

The room smells like blood now. Like the kind of violence you can taste in the back of your throat.

Next to me, syringes are scattered across a table. Some empty. Some full.

And I get some inspiration.

Shifting the heavy blade to my other hand, I grab a full syringe and pop the cover.

Holding it high, my thumb poised over the plunger. Ready.

The heavy thud of boots on stone gets closer. Louder.

I tuck myself behind the door a little more, and my heart beats slow. Controlled.

No more running. No more pleading.

I am the monster they should have been afraid of. They just had no flippin’ idea.

The door creaks open—just wide enough. A man steps in—tall, thick-necked, already muttering under his breath.

“Where the fuck?—?”

He doesn’t even notice me as he rushes forward, dropping to his knees to check his companion.

That’s when I move, silent as breath, and lunge.

The syringe punches into his neck, deep and vicious, as my thumb shoots the plunger downward.

---