Prince of Blood | 18+

Chapter 6: Bloodied Hands

PATIENCE

I swallowed the food, not letting it sit on my tongue for longer than a second. The slimy texture slid down my throat, the bitter taste lingering in my mouth. But not a sliver of disgust showed itself on my face. I was surrounded by noises of gagging, red faces and disgust.

As soon as I'd finished the last morsel of the grey goop I looked up to find Zeen's eyes on me. She was watching me carefully.

"They don't call yous Patience for nothin', do they?"

I shook my head, getting up to leave. The sensation of Wrath's glare weakened on my skin as I walked out of the cafeteria and away from him. The last shreds of his Sin left my system but no matter how much space I put between us, he was always there. Lingering in the back of my mind.

The greyness of the camp unsettled me. The walls, the floor, the ceiling — everything was the same unnerving shade of blankness. I kept walking through identical corridors and past identical rooms and after a while, I felt like I hadn't moved at all. I glanced at the number etched into my hand and then at the numbers around me.

I was miles off.

"Sin, right?" A scratchy, masculine voice asked from behind me. The being drew closer, walking around me until we were face to face.

His skin was a parrot-green, with the contours of his face lined in the hues of a forest. His chin sloped down to a sharp point, his lips pinned with a sinister curve. My eyes stung with panic as I tried to remember the name of his kind.

He laughed, and the noise sent a shiver rolling down my spine. It sounded like someone dragging their nails down a blackboard. "No, no." His eyes slid down my figure before landing on the redness of my gaze. "Virtue."

I nodded. "Yes."

He cocked his head. "Patience?"

I nodded again.

He grinned, his teeth jagged and uneven behind his lips. It was a grin that told me I should have shaken my head instead of nodding. In a way, I was the weakest out of the Sins and Virtues. No matter what you did I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't retaliate. I couldn't.

"Lost?"

I nodded again, looking around me.

His grin widened as he drew closer. "Scared?"

The shortness of his questions made my pulse quicken. I took a step back only for him to laugh that same scratchy noise again.

He dragged a cold, rubbery finger down the side of my cheek. "Don't be."

My heart battered against my ribcage. "My roommate is probably looking for me. I should go." I took another step back.

He took an even larger step forward.

Because no one was looking for me. And no one ever would. I was the kind that slipped into the background — whether I was in a crowd or not, I tended to disappear from people's attention. I had a sinking feeling that if I disappeared today, no one would notice.

His breath smelled like the grey goop from the cafeteria. "Pretty," he said.

My throat began to close up with fear.

I was watching his intentions unfold in his expression when a painful shock radiated through my spine as he shoved me into the wall. Silence weighed down on my shoulders as he pressed his body up against mine. His icy hands gripped my waist painfully, holding me in place.

"Too pretty."

My breaths rushed in and out of my lungs and the edges of my vision began to blur. I was hyperventilating. But all the being saw was a blank, unmoving face. All anyone ever saw when they looked at me was patience and calm.