Thirty-two

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Tessa

I'm panting when I finally get to the school.

I ran the whole way. I don't know how to drive, and I wasn't gonna risk getting pulled over just to get here quicker.

Plus, the run was refreshing. It's got my blood pumping, and if I'm gonna spill someone else's tonight, I'm gonna need as much adrenaline as I can get.

I have to kill him. I have to kill Viper. It's the only way to get rid of him for good. No matter what, even if it kills me in the end, even if I have to blow us both up just to end him, he absolutely has to die tonight.

He's too big a risk and too close to killing everyone I love for me to let him live another day.

It's end right here, right now.

I slow down before reaching the back of the school and sneak up to the large figure in the distance.

He's wearing a black hood over his head, and the shadows over him just make him look ten times scarier. His back is towards me, which I find a little weird.

But I brush it off. I don't have the time or the patience to worry about how weird Viper may or may not be acting.

"Viper," I say, as firmly as I can. He doesn't turn around, which pisses me off. "We need to talk."

I clutch the gun in my pocket as he turns around. It's too dark to see his face from where I am, so I take a step forward.

As soon as I do, though, I'm tackled to the ground. The air is knocked from my lungs as my back hits the ground, and his weight on my chest makes it hard to get any of it back.

I cough loudly and groan at the pain. What the fuck is he doing?

"What the fuck!" I scream, kicking him with all my might. I see his face, finally, and pause, shocked. No. Fucking no. "Who...who the fuck are you?"

Fuck. It's not Viper. Where the fuck is he, then? Why isn't he here? Did he realize I was planning to kill him? He's a smart fuck, so maybe he took a guess and went with it.

God fucking dammit! Why am I always one step behind? Why can't I just catch the fuck up to him? Why is he so much better at this shit then me?

I should be smarter than this. I am smarter than this. My families lives are on the line, for fucks sake! Why can't I just do fucking better?

The man holds a knife up to my cheek, so I put my thoughts aside and focuse solely on the situation before me.

I glare at the knife and then at the mystery man, who's looking at me like a fucking creep, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Viper said I couldn't kill you, but..." the man says, smirking evilly. "He never said I couldn't cut you up a bit."

I flinch away from him when I feel the sting of his knife digging into my skin. Blood drips from my cheek and I wince.

He slices my skin open from the side of my nose all the way to just before my ear and I try not to cry.

I don't want any more scars. I don't want another fucking reminder that my life is fucked up. I don't want this. I never did.

Why me? Why do I have to go through this? Why me? Why me? Why me? Why? Why? Why?

"Who the fuck are you? What'd I ever do to you?" I yell, trying to push him off me, but he doesn't budge. He probably doesn't even feel my weak shoves.

Why am I so weak? Still so fucking weak.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I reach down towards my gun. I'm fucking glad I brought one. But it was meant for Viper. He's the one I'm supposed to shoot tonight. These bullets are meant for him, just like the bullet that killed that man in my cell.

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