Part 3: Blood ~ Chapter 7

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Zoey tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

"I want you to kill them."

Lucius' voice was accompanied by the faces of the couple she had murdered on his command.

"Kill them."

She groaned.

"Bobbi..."

Fed up, she kicked the sheets off and rose. Memories were eating away at her and not being able to sleep in a comfortable position wasn't helping. Frustrated, she ripped the sling off and removed the splint. To her surprise, her arm felt fine.

Guess being transcended does come with its perks.

She paced around the room as she attempted to calm her mind, but it quickly went back to Lucius.

What if he realises I'm still alive?

She could envision him storming into her room, eyes filled with rage. "Bobbi!" he would roar. "So, you thought you could get away from me, huh?" She imagined how he'd walk towards her, slowly. "Thought I wouldn't notice you lying? Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should know better, Bobbi."

Zoey shuddered and ran into the bathroom. No, no, no! I'm safe!

She turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face.

Get yourself together!

But what if? Another voice interjected. What if Khalida is just playing a game with me? What if she and Lucius are on the same side and this is all—

"No!" She pressed her hand against her mouth. Shit, did I really just scream that out loud?

Groaning, she pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.

Get. Yourself. Together. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. There you go. Again. Yes, attagirl. You got this. Remember who you are and where you come from.

She gritted her teeth and straightened herself.

Just, maybe, not the last decade—

Shocked, she lost her train of thought. She stared at her reflection, her purple eye no longer staring at the ground. Instead, it was moving quite rapidly in every direction. Up, down, left, up, right.

She swallowed, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked into the mirror again, her bad eye was staring at the floor again.

Did I imagine it? She shivered. I must be going crazy after all.

She splashed some more water on her face. Scared, it took her a bit to look at her reflection again, but the eye still lay dead in its socket. She inched closer to the glass and poked the eyeball, coaxing it to move—but it didn't.

Still don't feel anything either.

She poked it a bit harder, but nothing happened. She wanted to poke it with a nail, but one glance at her hands reminded her that she had chewed all of them way too short for such a thing.

There's a needle in the sharps container on the counter.

Without giving it a second thought, she went and got it.

I should probably clean it.

Figuring it was contaminated only with her blood, she started to rinse it under the tap.

It would be easy to prick myself, she thought as her fingers slid across the metal. As if to prove herself right, she allowed her thumb to flick along the sharp point.

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