Katya Edition: Second Edition

Twenty Ninth Corpse: The Green-eyed Devil

❝You're crazy.❞

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Twenty Ninth Corpse | The Green-eyed Devil

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[Z-day +7 | Apr. 21 | 17:22hrs]

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me the moment I became conscious again and registered the pounding in my head.

A hand slipped under my prone body and I was made to sit up. I let out a whine of protest as the pain spiked in my head. "No..."

Something was pressed to my lips and I scrunched up my nose, trying to push it away.

"Stop, it'll help with your head," a deep, familiar yet unfamiliar voice spoke near my ear. It was familiar because I knew I heard it somewhere before but unfamiliar because I didn't know who it belonged to.

Whatever was pressed against my lips was tilted and liquid flowed out of it and into my mouth. I swallowed the first mouthful before I knew what I was doing and after that I didn't have the energy to fight anymore so I just drank. My head felt heavy and everything was fuzzy and jumbled in my mind. I couldn't recall where I was or what I'd been doing before.

"Good girl," the stranger with me murmured softly once all the liquid was gone and I was placed in a prone position once more. I faded from consciousness once again, relieved once the pain disappeared along with my awareness.

The next time I woke up, I was tied to a tree with thick rope around my torso and my feet were taped together. The sky was already dark and my captor was sitting down on a log in front of me, a rather familiarly designed black cotton mask with the print of an eerie, teeth-filled grin and a zipper cutting said grin in half, covering his lower face. All he needed was the eye patch to complete the ensemble from the popular anime personality that Nea was so protective of the moment she'd watched the show.

In the meager light of the moon, the only thing I could make out of his appearance other than the mask, was messy dark hair, maybe brown or black. It obscured his eyes so I couldn't tell what colour they were, nor could I tell anything about ethnicity but from what I remembered, he didn't speak Japanese when he had me at gunpoint before. He sounded American.

I tried to shift to relieve the stiffness of my muscles from being in this position for who knows how long but found that I couldn't thanks to my restraints. I let out a sigh and tilted my head, "Was all of this really necessary?"

"You were walking around a Japanese Island with Japanese blades—I'd have to be an idiot not to take precautions, no matter how foreign you look and how good your English is," he spoke quietly, his words holding a touch of amusement. "Besides, no one survives the biters without some kind of training or someone to protect them. You somehow don't strike me as the type who needs protection—despite current appearances." He eyed my restraints pointedly and I found that I wanted to squirm in humiliation. Yeah, this was definitely not one of my brighter moments.

"So now what?" I mumbled, having already resigned myself to my fate—either I'd be let go or I'd die, and since neither seemed to be happening, I was content to just go with the flow for now. At least he wasn't torturing me or being a pig and trying to force himself onto me.

"Since you're not kicking and screaming like a crazy person, and causing extra trouble, we can eat and get to know each other," he said cheerfully.

I gave him a dry look. "Should I break out my make-up kit so we can do each other's nails too?"

He chuckled. "Easy," he held up a hand in surrender, "This situation is tense enough without us at each other's throat. I just thought you'd be more comfortable if I made an effort to be civilized."