To Kill A Cheerleader.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

TO KILL A CHEERLEADER.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

        'Where are they?' I asked as I ran. 

        'Jasmine Jade Motel, seven blocks down the road. Room Twenty-Three,' Grim said in my head. 

        Using my super-speed, I arrived in a matter of seconds. I ran straight to the receptionist at the front desk. She was a young woman, she had short messy blond hair and was busy blowing bubbles with her bubble gum. 

        'Quick, tell me, where's Room Twenty-Three?' I asked excitedly. 

        She didn't even look up to me.

        'Second floor,' she said and continued working on the crossword puzzle she was holding. 

        I ran at a normal human speed until I was sure she couldn't see me anymore, then I zoomed up the stairs in two seconds.

        I ran straight to room Twenty-Three and crashed through the door. 

        The sight before me instantly made hot tears stream down my cheeks. My heart twisted and I let out a scream of agony and pain. 

        My mother was tied to the bed. She was gagged and her beautiful dress was torn and tattered. Her eyes were closed and her nose was bleeding. 

        I gasped. 

        There was a knife in my mother's chest!

        Marc Ravirez was standing over my mother. His shirt was off and his hands and torso had blood stains. 

        When I screamed, he had spun around to face me. 

        The instant I saw his face, all my agony and pain was replaced with bitter rage. 

        My fangs emerged and I heard myself growl ferociously. 

        'What the fu-' 

        Marc stopped before he could finish his statement. 

        He pulled a revolver out of his pants and aimed at me. 

        He shot me in my left shoulder. I didn't even feel any pain.

        I started walking towards him. 

        I became angrier with every step. 

        He shot me again. This time I didn't even know where he shot me.

        I finally reached up to him. 

        I held onto the hand holding the gun before he realized what was happening.

        I twisted his hand.

        He screamed in complete horror and pain and he dropped the revolver. 

        I heard a crack as I broke his wrist.

        He screamed even louder. 

        I lifted him up and threw him against the wall. He hit his head and got knockd out. 

        I wouldn't kill him yet, we'd have some fun before he died. 

        I ran to the bed and ripped off the cloth that Marc had tied Mom's hands and feet with.

        I put my ear to her chest. 

        Her heart wasn't beating. 

        'No,' I whispered. 'No, you can't die.'