This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 23, which means letter W.
My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂
Capinski hit my wrists against the floor, eventually causing me to let go of both weapons. He bunched my wrists together in one of his hands, then picked up the knife with his other.
“You’re pathetic,” I said, and laughed at him.
“I’m pathetic?” He said. “I’m not the one fighting to stay alive right now.”
There was a dull cracking sound, and Capinski fell forward, blood running through his hair. I looked past his shoulder and saw Johnny, with a baseball bat.
“It’s all I had in my car,” he said, shrugging.
He propped the bat against the work bench, then helped roll Capinski off me. I staggered to my feet, my head swimming.
“I could kiss you!” I said, smiling. But the dizziness got the better of me and I ran to the sink to throw up.
“I’ll pass,” said Johnny.
I rinsed my mouth from the tap that never stopped dripping, then turned and leaned against the sink for support.
“Is she dead?” Johnny said, gesturing towards Carly.
“I don’t think so.”
He moved to her wrist and felt for a pulse. “Faint, but it’s there,” he said.
“He dosed her with some kind of drug, he got me with it too,” I said, looking down at Capinski.
His chest was rising and falling with his steady breathing. It was my lucky day. I crouched down and picked up the knife from near my feet. It dragged along the concrete floor, the sound making me excited.
“Delaney?” Johnny said, crouching down across from me.
I didn’t look at him. In one quick movement I stabbed the knife in Capinski’s neck, then withdrew it and stabbed him again. Not my best work. I would have preferred to take my time, but doubted Johnny would have let me.
Blood started pooling at my feet. I looked up – eye to eye with Johnny who was clearly going through something, judging by the clenching of his jaw.
I didn’t say anything. This was a make or break moment, whether he knew it or not. If I needed to take him out too, I would.
After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a minute, Johnny finally spoke.
“I’ve got plastic sheeting in my car.”
I raised both eyebrows at him, not sure what to say or ask.
He shrugged. “I’ll be right back.”