Sweet Innocence and Gentle Sin || 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑

Chapter 32: Bloody Mess

And all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear.

~)(~

I punched Azriel in the jaw. I punched him hard. The crack was audible. Blood splattered the ground as he fell, so unprepared that his shadows weren't even fast enough to catch him.

I didn't stop there, not at all. Before he could regain himself, I climbed on top of him, locking him beneath me, and started punching him in the face as fast as I could to keep him from healing in time. His blood and my own painted my knuckles, and I think I even felt a tear roll down my cheek.

Soon enough, though, I felt someone's arms under my shoulders and Cassian lifted me off the shadowsinger while calling my name. Only, I didn't hear him. I heard nothing but the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. I struggled against him, squirmed, and kicked to get out of his grasp so I could see Azriel bleed more.

The shadowsinger stood slowly, rubbing his bloodied jaw before he straightened himself and glared at me. Blood dripped down his chin onto his black leathers, but his healing had already fixed the damage my fists caused.

Within seconds, Cassian had let go of me and said, "On second thought, you two can work this out on your own."

As soon as Cassian let go of me, I swung my blade with all the force I could. The air cut with a whistle and then a screech as metal met metal. He managed to grab his hunting dagger for defense just in time to prevent me from splitting his head in two.

I wanted him dead. For all the torment he caused me, all the suffering I went through because he was just a coward. I wanted to kill—because it was the only thing I could control in this pitiful excuse of a life.

His eyes were hollow with darkness, his lips a firm but trembling line. The darkness swirled around him in a heap of fury. Yet they didn't touch me once. And I could feel the fire in my blood, the scorching pulse as veins lit up and skin heated.

The shadowsinger slid my blade along his so fast that I didn't have time to stop pushing, and the tip of the sword stabbed the dirt next to his foot. Before I could swing back up again, he grabbed my arms from behind and tried prying my fingers open.

Fear gripped my body in an embrace, tight enough to suffocate. I couldn't breathe with his arms wrapped around me. Fear overcame my senses, drove out all morals and reason, and cut through the rational and calculated. Like a fire, it burned through me on instinct and boiled under my skin.

Fear was my only weakness. Fear made me numb, empty, hopeless. And in that moment, he made me afraid.

I kicked and screamed, scratched and bucked like a wild animal caught in a snare. My legs thrashed and stomped the air as I pushed all my weight backward, my head slamming with hopes of hitting him in the jaw.

At some point, the screams stopped being out of rage, and instead of fear. The thrashing became chaotic and painful. The numb ringing of fear overcame me.

I slammed my heels into the ground and knocked us both to our sides. The shadowsinger let go of me then and I scrambled to my feet before the shadows could catch me themselves. My lungs ached, my throat burned, my eyes were bloodshot, and my face reddened.

I wasn't thinking, just acting. Sometimes you're so caught up in anger and fear that you forget your surroundings. The world becomes a dust cloud, endless and loud, drowning out everything that might try to reach you. A tunnel of red flames lapping at every ounce of oily tears.

I picked up the closest weapon I could, his obsidian-hilted hunting knife. He got back to his feet before I could hit a final blow, but the slash I made when I ran at him sprayed blood from his chest and onto my face.