‘Y/n!!! For God’s sake, hurry your ass up!!!!!’ Angela let out loudly. ‘Hear that?’ Patrick pointed above, pulling her hair back, so she looked at him with her teary pain-soaked eyes, ‘you will never be.’ He slashed both of her arms, cutting the arteries open, woman’s screams mixing with crowd’s cheers upstairs. The woman was trembling weakly, gripping her insides that were now outside, Patrick felt nothing but sheer madness take over, for she was the reason why the one he longed to see tonight won’t ever look his way again. Patrick looked with pure disgust, as he growled at her: ‘Look what you made me do’, as if he was a wild powerful animal, who instinctively knew his dominant position was never to be compromised, which in an ancient natural law of the jungle is a threatening delusion to be fooling with. The piece of glass stroke again, aimed at woman’s lower abdomen, cutting through it so deeply that her guts fell out. Blood poured onto the wooden floor but Patrick stood enough far away for it not to reach him.
She tried to scream but he grabbed her face, his fingers painfully digging into her skin, his palm over her mouth, as she watched him with terror.
In a millisecond, he pushed her into the room she had come out of, surveying it for sharp or heavy objects, and, without thinking twice, smashed a vase, then in a lighting speed cutting woman’s thigh, right where the femoral artery was. The tension reached its climax, as Patrick thought over possible outcomes, while he stared at the woman with rage in his eyes and she sheepishly looked at him with fear. He gripped her tighter and she let out a shriek, when he got so close to her that their noses almost touched and hissed: ‘The fuck you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea how much these cost, you fucking stupid bitch?’ His jawline was dangerously playing under the smooth skin of his perfectly killer cheekbones, his deceptive appearance akin to a deadly predator who was about to break loose. His empty eyes glazed over her face, he looked down at his shoes and felt a violent impulse rise, when he saw a stain, as if it were not his shoes that had been dirtied, but his whole being spat on. The woman squirmed and he brought his void gaze on her, causing her to uncomfortably shift her shoulders and quietly blurt out an apology. Patrick grabbed her by the arms and squeezed them, all the while his racing mind was far away.
Suddenly, when the group approached the VIP lounge, a door opened and a woman bumped into him and tripped over his new shoes, lamely catching herself by his coat.
0 kommentar(er)
