Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I’m in a daze, and right now, he’s not human. He’s a cockroach I need to exterminate. His limbs twitch a few more times, but once he stills, I freeze with the tool raised over my head, and only now sense sticky heat on my skin. I must be covered in blood.
I’m heaving as I look around at the five dead men, their blood coloring the snow like wine spilled on a pristine tablecloth. But then my attention turns to Cesar, still on his knees as if he hasn’t even noticed me. He’s rocking back and forth, making the tiniest little whines and covering his head.
I don’t know what to do.
This must be some extreme PTSD or a panic attack of some sort.
I kneel right next to him, unsure if I should touch him right now, but I place my hands on his arms. “It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re fine,” I say, even though nothing is fine. This is a catastrophe. There’s five dead men in our yard, my ankle’s so numb I can barely feel it, and the one person I can trust acts as if I’m not there.
“Cesar, it’s me, Eli. They’re all dead, you’re safe,” I try, rubbing his shoulders, which are now covered by blood-soaked fabric. I should be disgusted. I should be afraid, but Cesar’s safety takes precedence and I attempt to hug him.
Again, no reaction.
He’s shaking like a terrified puppy, and dread creeps deeper into my heart. Because what if I can’t wake him up from… whatever state this is? I’m not strong enough to carry him inside, I would have to drag him. At this rate, he might just freeze to death or fall seriously ill.
I’m so overwhelmed and out of my depth stupid tears form in my eyes. I rub them away because there’s no time for feeling sorry for myself. I started the chain of events that led us both here.
“I love you?” I whisper with a heavy heart, looking into Cesar’s vacant eye.
It’s as though he’s staring through me.
My heart shatters into a million ice shards.
I take a deep breath of air that smells of pine and blood, trying to think of something to help Cesar, other than my pathetic confessions. I remember that the guy who made Cesar fold to the ground said something to him. Instead of using his gun, he fiddled with some piece of paper.
On hands and knees I shuffle in the cold mud to reach the dead body. I don’t have time to be frightened when Cesar’s life is on the line. The guy is still squeezing the small card in his cooling fingers. I rip it out, but of course, I’m so nervous, and my fingers tremble so much it falls. I grab it in panic to save it from soaking.
Something on this short list of sentences forced Cesar into the state he’s in now, and I have to work out the solution to whatever mind game is still in progress. At the top of the card is a three-line list of words with no obvious connections, below it, a single sentence.
To end: ‘Good dogs get their treats.’
My mouth dries, and I look up, taking in the dead bodies, and all the red stains on snow that used to be so pristine, but they offer no answers. The only clue I have is that ratty piece of paper, and when Cesar squeals, I turn on my knees to face him and read the last sentence out loud.
“Good dogs get their treats.”
My tongue feels like a piece of wood, so very stiff in my mouth, but while Cesar remains in place, his shoulders relax and he lifts his head to glance my way.
Tears have cascaded down his cheek, washing away some of the blood left behind by the four kills he succeeded at before the final thug brought him to his knees. He’s still not fully himself, but there’s a person watching me now, and I almost bawl with relief.
But it’s like he doesn’t fully see me despite looking straight at me.
“Cesar? What is all of this about?” I ask, tucking the paper away as I crawl toward him.
He blinks, and this time, there seems to be more thought behind his glossy eye. “E—Eli?” he asks, as if he isn’t sure he remembers my name correctly.
“Yes. Yes, me, Eli,” I utter and cup his face to grab all his focus. His eye shuts, as if there was no greater relief than my touch, and he turns his face to lick my blood-stained palm.
“I’m your weapon…”
I gasp, my eyes growing wider. “No, no, no… I love you. That’s what you’re for. For my love. It’s all okay, we’ll work out whatever happened here.”
The handsome face relaxes, and a low hum leaves Cesar’s mouth as he pushes his face against my chest. The cold air stings my skin, but when I feel him breathe me in, heat spreads all over my body, all the way to the toes.