Flesh and Blood, Sian Rosé [most difficult books to read TXT] 📗

an hour as she thought and thought, and the next, some primal instinct buried somewhere deep inside her sprang into action.

Minnie threw her face forward, mouth open, and took as much of the flesh on Steve’s neck as possible between her teeth, biting down as hard as she could, so that her head ached.

“FUCK!” screamed Steve, attempting to jerk away.

But Minnie didn’t let go. She forced the tips of her teeth further into the skin, letting the warm, red gushes of blood flood over her lips and cascade down their joined bodies in a gory waterfall.

“GET OFF!” Steve put his hands on her head and tried to yank her away by her hair, so forcefully that a clump of it came out in his hand.

Ignoring the pain burning her scalp, Minnie released her bite and then went back again, this time deeper. She felt veins and arteries be severed like string between her jaws, and muscle and tissue shred like paper in her vice. She whipped her head back and forth, scarlet red strings of broken flesh tearing loudly between them as she deepened the wound.

Steve quickly began to convulse, his whole body jerking and twitching so madly that Minnie was finally forced to break away, her entire face caked in a thick, deep red layer of his blood. The stunned teenager propped herself up on her elbows and propelled herself backwards with her feet as she watched Steve clutch at the gaping hole in his neck, crimson fluid rushing down his arm and splashing into a pool on the floor. His eyes rolled back into his head as the colour rapidly drained from his face, almost as quickly as the galleons of blood poured from his neck and saturated his clothes.

On his knees, he wavered and staggered until he finally fell backwards and lay sprawled at Minnie’s feet, his wound leaking all over the carpet. He opened his mouth to croak, and more droplets of blood spilled from his lips and stained his chin.

“Oh my god,” whispered Minnie to herself, unblinking as she awkwardly forced herself to her feet, half completely dumbfounded by the gore laid out in front of her, half-crippled with agony by her snapped wrists. Once she was standing up, she began to back away from Steve, who had stopped shrieking and was now breathing painfully slowly, in and out, in and out.

She could still taste blood in her mouth. It was so strong that she wondered whether she would ever be able to taste anything else from that day forward.

“K-k-k-kill…. me…” mustered Steve in between broken, wheezing breaths, just as more bright red blood leaked from his mouth down his lopsided cheek. “Please.”

Minnie felt a tight twist in her gut. This evil, awful human was begging for mercy. To be put out of his misery. When he’d comfortably, happily watched her be abused, beaten, and raped for his own profit for months on end. Her eyes suddenly felt hot, and she realised that there were bitter, salty tears simmering there.

“Where’s the key for Ronnie’s room?” she heard herself asking.

Steve stared at her, growing more and more delirious by the moment.

“K-k-kitchen…” he muttered.

Swallowing, Minnie darted off in the direction of the kitchen but then stopped herself.

Sure, it would give her tremendous pleasure to know this total and utter piece of shit would have a slow, agonising death. Bleeding out, completely alone apart from memories of the sad, sadistic life that he had led.

But she’d also seen enough horror movies to know that it was never a good idea to leave the villain alive.

She shuffled back down the hall to where Steve lay. She eyed the knife laying discarded on the floor, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to lift it up with her broken wrists. Instead, she lifted her foot as high as she could and slammed it down onto his face with all of her might. Blood spattered upwards, covering every inch of her, but she didn’t stop. In fact, just like that night in the woods, she went into a sort of daze. Over and over, blindly, manically, she stamped hard on Steve’s ugly, awful face. She stamped until she could hear skull splintering and fracturing and until her nostrils felt blocked with blood.

Until she knew for sure that the motherfucker was dead.

*

Ronnie lay curled up on the ground. His skinny body spooned a smaller figure that cuddled up into him in the darkness, shivering. He stroked the girl’s hair, which had long since lost its scent of fruity shampoo, and now just smelled like everything else in his world.

Like pain and suffering.

“I wish I’d met you before all of this,” Stella whispered into his chest.

He swallowed, pressing a light brush of his lips onto the smooth skin of her forehead.

“Me too,” he replied.

It made him uneasy, just how truthful he was being. Up until then, he’d thought Minnie was his soul mate. They were perfect teenage sweethearts, destined to be, written in the stars. He’d grieved her for a long time, but then when Stella had been bundled into the filthy, pitch-black cell, it had given him other things to think about.

And, over the months, he’d learned a lot about Stella. As much as he hated to admit it, he thought that he had fallen in love. Properly this time.

Stella was like him. Not the best upbringing. A little rough around the edges. Not privileged. Not particularly smart or promising in any kind of way. A sort of lovable misfit. The kind which ended up on the run from the police for some misunderstanding. The kind the police suspected, for no good reason, other than wanting someone to pin the blame on.

“I love you,” Stella said quietly, breathing him in as if he didn’t reek of stale sweat and shit.

Ronnie traced her jawline and lifted her mouth up to his, where their lips locked in an intense kiss.

At that moment, there was the sound of metal turning in the lock. Out of