AAR'S POV:-
SMACK!
And Marra's Dad was on the floor in an almost crimson pool of blood in zero time, dead in a way his son couldn’t possibly ever be. Permanently.
While Marra sprawled on the floor a few feet beside him, whimpering. His vertebrae coming into position with those sickly 'pops' as his back straightened. The red leaving his eyes. His nails retracting. Those fangy-thingies too. His face was puffed and he looked like he was about to vomit his appetite.
Bee kept a hand on her mouth, eyes ajar. She’d just killed a man, albeit in an effort to save him.
I'd comfort her, tell her how it wasn't her fault, but I literally had no idea how and what had just happened, happened exactly. If that makes even a sliver of sense.
Mr. Om stood there panting, the sprinkler bottle dropping from his only hand.
Outside, the moon of a lifetime went down.
And me? I just remember fainting and having no clue what happened next.
*papapapapapa-trumpet-horns*
*cue John Williams Star Wars score*
*wink-ety wink*
YOU ARE READING
Sort of Dead
Humor**This book features short, fun, snappy chapters** **Perfectly fine as a standalone** [Caution: may pack a couple of gutpunches.] "First things first: this is the story of how I die. Over and over again." __________________________________ Marra is...
