Page 10 of Endless Anger
Panic, maybe, or something sinister clinging to the atmosphere.
Turning, I start back the way I came, though I walk too fast for my feet to catch up fully, tripping over a tree root rising out of the ground. My face smacks the dirt, and my palms scrape against gravel, the little rocks tearing into my skin.
Hissing against the burn, I push to my knees, dusting my hands off. An eerie sensation crawls down my spine, but I lift my chin despite it, meeting the hardened gaze of a complete stranger.
Their short hair is in disarray, but their dark eyes feel unmistakable. For as long as I live, I’ll remember their deep sheen and the feral glint hidden within.
Living doesn’t seem to be much of an option, though, when they hold up an arm to reveal a butcher’s knife, their fingers gripping the handle so tight that their knuckles are almost translucent.
My eyes widen, and I fall back on my ass.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the person says.
“S-sorry,” I choke out, fear clouding my throat. “I got lost and took a wrong turn?—”
“No,” they interrupt, moving closer. “Here at all. You’ll bring destruction to this campus, all of you. This family is not welcome.”
It is the duty of Avernia to ensure they do not remain.
I have no qualms about leaving, so I scramble to my feet, prepared to dart into the forest. As soon as my foot moves in that direction though, the person launches themselves at me, knocking me back to the ground.
My vision temporarily goes black as my head hits a rock, but when Icome to again, the person is looming over me, straddling my waist, and holding the sharp edge of the knife to my throat.
Clenching my jaw, I don’t make any sudden moves as the blade gently presses against my skin. I feel the moment it slices through, and guilt washes over me that this will be how my parents find their only son: lost and decapitated.
How fucking embarrassing.
There’s no doubt in my mind that disappointment would be a forefront emotion when my dad discovers my corpse; he spent half our childhoods teaching us not only to be aware of our surroundings but to utilize them to our advantage.
As the person swaps the knife for their hand, strangling me instead of trying to cut through flesh and bone, my fingers stretch out, slowly groping the ground for something to use.
Anything.
I don’t know what the hell is happening, but I do know I don’t want to die.
My thumb grazes something long and oddly shaped, and I wrap my fingers around it quickly, pressing the tip into the dirt until I can feel it splinter off. Sliding my hand beneath, I curl the object in my palm as my head begins to swim and use every ounce of strength I can muster to drive the broken branch into the side of their skull.
The force of the blow knocks them back, and they clutch their head instantly.
Without pause, I throw myself over the knife and draw it upward, slamming the thing into the center of their forehead before they have a chance to blink.
Their eyes are wide open as I withdraw, repeating the motion again. And again.
And again.
My entire body trembles, adrenaline and fear pumping through me. Nausea curdles in my stomach, but I swallow over it as the assailant drops, blood spurting from the wound in their head.
I don’t remove the knife when they go limp.
Sitting back, I fall on my ass again, reaching up to where they cut my throat. The wound doesn’t feel too deep, so I tear a piece of my T-shirt off and try to stop the bleeding.
More branches crunch in the distance, and I jump to my feet, diving behind the gazebo this time. Breathing hard, I lean my head against the wood. If I’m attacked again, it’s unlikely I’ll make it out of here alive.
“Asher?”
Tears spring to my eyes. I fly out from behind the gazebo, almost tackling Dad as he jogs in my direction. His arms wrap around me, holding me close while a terrified noise comes from my chest.
“What the hell happened? I turned around for a minute, and you were gone, and then…” He trails off, and I imagine him glancing around, then at the dead body a few feet away. Pulling back, he puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “What happened?”
