Burning Blood

Shifting under Whisper’s towering bulk, I caught the cat’s eyes as my hand strayed to the dagger in my chest.

I’d wanted to keep it in for visual purposes. To make them panic and take me to the hospital. But these bastards were too well trained or too scared of repercussions, so...I would pivot.

Gritting my teeth, I wrapped my fingers around the hilt and tugged.

A flash of searing pain cut through the foggy numbness of the pill, but I ignored it.

I kept pulling, wincing at the sickening sensation of it coming free from my body. I groaned as I tugged it the final way.

The guards spun to face me, horror on their faces as fresh blood drenched my shirt, glossy and thick even on black fabric in the rain. “What the hell are you doing?! Stop it. You’re bleeding. Shit, it’s everywhere!” They rushed toward me but wheeled backward again as Whisper opened his jaws and roared.

“Don’t move, alright?” James panicked, raking a hand through his dripping hair. The fact that no one had shot Whisper was a testament to how afraid they were of me. How afraid they were of my blood...even if I was bleeding out before them.

“Mr. Ward is almost here. J-Just...wait. We’ll get you sorted. Just...fuck, don’t die.”

If Marcus was almost here, that meant I had to hurry.

Because the games weren’t over yet.

And once they were, I wanted to stand on a hilltop of their corpses, not look out from behind prison bars.

That left only one option.

Slaughter my way out.