MicroHorror

“I’m dangerous, I think you deserve to know that…” He smirked and pushed a few stray hairs out of my face. His skin never made contact with my skin, but that didn’t stop the shiver that ran down my back. I couldn’t move and words completely failed me.

“How dangerous, you ask? Baby, you don’t even want to know.” He answered his own question. And he was right, I didn’t. I closed my eyes tight and tried to wish myself back to a time where I never knew him. A day when my life was on the right track and I actually had a future… all I could see now was death.

I wasn’t stupid. Well, yeah, I was pretty stupid. But I wasn’t stupid enough to really believe he was going to let me leave here alive.

The knife in his other hand was good indication of that.

I opened my eyes and forced words out through the fear. “Just do it. Stop teasing me.”

His laugh was dark and attractive and made me sick to my stomach. “Do what?”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him begin turning the knife in his hand, playing with it.

“Oh,” he whispered and his smile faulted. His eyes found mine again and he murmured, “This?”

At first there was no pain. I just felt it. The tip of the knife pierced my shirt and then my skin. By the time the sharp, hot pain hit I didn’t have the willpower to make myself scream. What good would it do, anyway? I choked on my sobs and tears started streaming down my cheeks.

But his eyes never left mine. He was in love with what he was doing to me and the raw honest pain that filled my eyes.

Uncontrollably, the sobs continued to rise from my chest. I tore my eyes away and looked down, regretting it the second I saw the knife, handle deep, in my stomach. He was still holding the handle, savoring the way it felt in his hand, I was sure. My blood soaked my shirt around the knife and was already making its way to my jeans.

Oh, god…

I felt it again. Another rush of hot pain as he twisted the handle to the right.