It was the fault of men I became this way. The carelessness of their actions that drove me to become the nightmare lurking in the forest.
Men are savages but I pride myself on being much,muchworse.
Sliding behind the tree, I pull out the knife tucked inside my sports bra. A flick of my wrist sends the curved blade into place, it’s glistening edge sharp and ready to be fed.
My baby will be disappointed he missed out.
“I’ll bring a treat back for you.” I whisper into the night sky, speaking just loud enough for one of the men to look up.
“Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
The weathered man looks around, his wrinkled face and torn clothing ranking him as the low member on the totem pole.
“I could have sworn I heard something.”
The preppy one, the one wearing a rumpled dress shirt, takes a look around and lets out a laugh.
“Has Chester got in your head? We’re not in the maze, man. Chill the fuck out.”
“It wasn’t a man’s voice I heard.” Bloodshot eyes swing in my direction and I can’t help but smile.
“Somebody’s a smart boy.”
The sound of my voice has the other two men jumping to their feet. Wild, panicked eyes whirl around the dark forest until they land on me.
And then they foolishly relax.
“What you doing out here, Blondie?” Clumsily buckling up his pants, the preppy one takes a step towards me, “Looking to crash a party?”
Snickers echo from the third member of the group, a lanky guy who’s looking cockier by the second. The older man stands off to the side, his bleary gaze unfocused but wise enough not to creep closer.
“You tell me.” A purr creeps up my throat as I slink closer, “Is this a party I should be joining?”
The preppy one all but jerks himself off at the salacious tone of my voice. For as big and strong as they paint themselves to be, men truly are the simplest creatures.
Easy to play. Easy to fuck. Easy to kill.
You would think they would learn how to present themselves as a challenge but that seems to have been lost somewhere in their evolution.
“Put her with the others.”
My eyes dart towards the women lying crumpled on the ground. One of them is curled up in a ball, crying softly into her knees. The other is silent and still, her empty eyes staring up at the night sky while dark liquid runs between her legs.
Dead or alive, they’ve both been killed tonight. Disgraced, ruined, and a little bit more afraid of the darkness around them.
It’s the kind of fear that never goes away.
A dirty hand decorated with shiny rings reaches towards me, a slimy smile perfectly in place for a man who’s about to meet his maker.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The old man speaks up, his anxious eyes flicking from me to the preppy puppet, “She’s a Drache.”
That makes him pause.
Unfortunately for him, I don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts.
Driving my knife deep into his forearm, I twist his arm and throw my body forward. The momentum drives his shoulder up and out of its socket, dislocating the joint and shattering a nicely shaped nose with his own elbow.
