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 22, which means letter V.
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! 🙂
Previous Chapter: Under Start from A: Anna
Victim
Did I care if Carly died?
The question rolled around in my head. She had always been nice to me, and was good at her job – which I respected. But did I care about her enough to try and save her?
I decided in the end it didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let Capinski leave here alive, and then Carly would be saved regardless of my thoughts on the matter.
I had to prevent myself from smiling at the thought of killing Capinski. Killing random people was fun, but taking on someone like Capinski who knew what they were doing, would be thrilling.
He had an advantage because of my drug addled body, but I had the advantage of surprise. At least for now.
Capinski had stopped whistling and was stroking Carly’s hair. He turned around to get something from the rolling tray table and I took my chance.
I stood up, pressing my back to the wall for support, then forced the zip tie off my wrists with a strong downward motion – like I was trained to do.
Capinski turned at the snapping sound from the zip tie. I lunged across the table at him, probably bruising Carly’s legs in the process but she should count herself lucky.
Capinski brought up his hands to fend me off, one was holding a pair of scissors. I grabbed his wrist as I fell over the other side of the table, pulling us both down to the floor.
He grunted, my knee hitting the side of his abdomen. But the drugs were already starting to affect me – my vision was floating around so much I wanted to throw up, and my grip was starting to loosen.
He flipped me over easily, knocking over the rolling tray table. Knives, rope, and other instruments scattered across the floor away from me.
I kicked my legs beneath him trying to get him off me. My hands around his, trying to stop him plunging the scissors in my chest. I moved one of my hands higher, to his face, and scratched at his eyes. It surprised him and gave me chance to flip him off me.
I scrambled across the floor towards the knives, grabbing the first one in reach as I felt him stab the scissors into my left leg.
I screamed, but turned over and slashed the knife at his arm, catching the fabric of his shirt but nothing juicy.
I screamed again, this time from frustration, and pulled the scissors from my leg.
Capinski looked shocked that I wasn’t giving in and letting him kill me on the spot.
I screamed at him again as I lunged forward, slashing at him with both weapons. He back peddled then raced around the table, picking the rope up from the floor.
I grinned. From his expression it wasn’t a pretty sight.
He threw the rope at me. I batted it away but the drugs made me too weak and I stumbled from the impact. Capinski hit my side like a train, knocking me over, and pinned me to the floor – his hands holding my wrists.
I kicked my legs and screamed, trying to ignore the growing nausea from my head-fog, but Capinski just smiled down at me.
“Like I said, you aren’t impressive,” he sneered.