The Poisoned Hearts

. O N E .

I awoke with a pounding headache. Maybe I shouldn't have drank that much last night. My body aches and my neck felt like it had a huge crick in it. I rolled over onto my back and stretched before opening my eyes. I was in a bedroom that was not familiar to me at all. The walls were covered in posters, I assumed most were of bands since I recognized a few of them.

I could remember being at the Alley Cats show last night and drinking too much. Did I have another one night stand? I'm going to end up pregnant if I keep doing this. Or I'll end up with some kind of STD. Who knows, maybe I could be murdered. My eyes went across the room, looking at the cluttered books on the large black bookshelf to the messy notebooks scattered across the black desk. The dresser had a record player sitting on top of it with a stack of records beside it while there were black clothes strewn across the floor.

I looked beside me on the bed to realize I was completely alone. At least it will be easy for me to sneak out if the guy isn't in the room. I rubbed my neck where it was hurting the most before climbing out of bed and searching for my clothes on the floor. It took a few tries of picking up dark clothes before finding my tattered Misfits shirt and my ripped jeans. I spied my leather jacket hanging on the back of the wooden chair at the desk.

"Just fix it, Lazzareth." A male's annoyed voice said loudly from the other side of the door. I paused, my hand on my leather jacket. Was this Lazzareth the guy I slept with, or someone related to him? A roommate, perhaps?

The door opened and I instantly twirled around so I could see who was coming into the room in case if I needed to defend myself or attack, my hand lingering in front of my right pocket where I kept my pocket knife. The guy had long black hair, hanging messily around his face, the length to the end of his nose. I wished more than anything for the lamp on the side table to suddenly short or for the power to go out so he couldn't see me. I held in my breath as he leaned back against the door, folding his arms across his chest, and moving his dark blue eyes directly onto me.

"You weren't trying to sneak out, were you, Veronica?" He asked, his voice slightly deep and silky.

I didn't want to lie to him. He was very attractive and I wouldn't say no to another night with him, to be honest. I was just bad at goodbyes. How do you nicely say 'thanks for sleeping with me see you probably never' or something along those lines? There's no easy or nice way to say it.

"You weren't in here so I thought I would get dressed." I replied. It wasn't a complete lie. I wasn't going to sneak out naked.

The guy chuckled, "God you're too cute. It's a good thing I'm not going to kill you like Silas wants."

My heart stopped and I choked on my breath. I was in a room with a murderer. I slept with a murderer. I picked up my jacket calmly and pulled my pocket knife out of my pocket before walking to the guy, keeping my knife hidden under my jacket. I didn't know where my Converse were and I didn't care. I could steal another pair. I didn't want to be killed by some creep.

I smiled up at the guy to catch him off guard before shoving my knife into his chest. He made a grunt as my knife went into what I thought was his heart. The guy grabbed my hand before I could push him out of the way and bolt from the bedroom.

"I think you got my lung with that." With his other hand he grabbed the bottom of my pocket knife and pulled it from his chest, lifting the bloody blade up so we could both see it, "I didn't picture you as the stabbing type."

"I didn't picture you as a killer." I spat at him as I tried to rip my hand from his. How did my four inch knife going into his lung not hurt him? He barely seemed phased at all. I glanced down to his chest to notice his blood wasn't pouring out like I assumed it would be. If anything it was bleeding like a tiny scratch despite the fact I could see the deep gash where the blade entered his body.