How I Died

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Claire's POV

It was almost too easy to kick her down the remaining steps, flatten her onto the marble stairwell ground, and twist her arms behind her back like fragile Barbie arms. Too easy. Either she was letting me do all of this willingly, or I had gotten too strong for them to handle. I'd like to go with the second one- but you can never be too sure.

She grunted as I clicked my teeth together.

"Honey." I purred. "If I were you, I'd start spilling the beans. The whole rice and chicken too." I say to her gently, applying a slight pressure into her wrist. Anymore force and it'll break- which is exactly what I will do if she doesn't open her mouth and talk.

"Go to hell." Are the first words that come out of her mouth. The second words are a bit muffled seeing as I proceeded to shove her face into the floor.

Crack! There goes one wrist.

She screams- it's such a sweet sound to my ears. As if I were playing my favorite melody on repeat. And I never wanted it to end. Please don't be going crazy Claire. I shake my thoughts away as I lean into her burning red ear. I guess she feels anger- or perhaps embarrassment. Such a dark red blush tainting her.

"Awe, how cute! Blushing just for me?" I say as her whimpers get quiet.

"Now-" I say sweetly. Then with more force, "what do you know?"

"I know nothing!" She says in a strained voice.

"You're a liar-" I sing out, my throat was starting to get dry from all of this chit chat- and I was thirsty for this bitches blood.

                             "There once was a liar who sat on a rope.." I sing out again.
                            "He lied, and he lied until I slit his throat!" I let out a delighted chuckle at the rhyme.

                        "You're not making any sense, you're crazy!" She mumbled against the ground. But then with a shuddering breath she considered my song.

                      She closed her eyes.

                   "Why was the liar on a rope?" She asked softly, probably trying to stray my mind away from threatening her. To this I clicked my tongue.

                       "The rope symbolizes the very thin line he was walking on by testing my patience." I whisper to her.

                       "Then why was he sitting on it?" She asked hesitantly.

                           To this I look at the ceiling of the stairwell, pondering over the question.

                           "He knew he was at the end of the rope. But he didn't know how to get off of it. So he tried sitting- all he had to do was tell the truth." I rub my chin in thought.
"All he had to do was tell the truth." I repeat as I feel her start to shake beneath me.

I put my finger nails on her Adam's apple and lean into her ear. I'm engulfed with the smell of hand sanitizer and a metallic scent. Blood. Probably the blood she took from all of the tortured souls in this hell lab. I wonder if she feels anything. Pity? Sadness over those whose loved ones she's taken away from this tragic world? Woah there Claire- you're getting a little too in your feelings there. But I was in my feelings, and for good reason too.

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