Chapter 115 - 115. Where?
No idea if it had to do with my ability, or with the ability that these Henriettas had, or if sucking blood in a parallel world was overall a thing.
However, as happy I had been that Henrietta was powerless, I nevertheless was now personally feeding her.
Very good, slapping my face so soon.
After a short hesitation, Henry gave
his knife, and I cut into my left arm before giving it back. He took it back and stepped behind
to watch closely.
Henrietta ca over and grabbed my wrist with a force that let
know of her discontent, before she placed her lips against my bleeding wound.
I again felt what was left of my strength draining while she drank.
It was difficult to discern the look she gave
while drinking my blood, but I rembered that she had seen Henrietta2's life, so probably not only Kenny2 abusing her, but also him fucking her. Well, that would be embarrassing for both of us IF SHE WASN'T A THREAT TO HUMANITY AND A HEARTLESS COLD-BLOODED BITCH!
I hadn't even started to get angry about her killing Henry2 and CONSCIOUSLY LEAVING THE EVIDENCE AGAINST
WITH HER DEAD COUNTERPART, EVEN COMNTING THAT I WOULD DESERVE IT, WTF?!!?!?
Henry's hands landed on my shoulders, grabbing
tightly, and making
interrupt the heated eye contact with my nesis for life.
When she finally let go, I pressed against my wound with my dirty sweater and leaned against Henry behind
because I had no energy left.
"Are you okay?" He asked in my ear, and my thoughts wandered again to these gay visions. DAMN IT! Why do either I or one of my counterparts have both strange sexual connections to these pair of evil twins?
Additionally, I feel like he had turned into a broken record, always asking if I was okay. NO FUCK! I AM NOT OKAY, AND YOU ARE NEITHER; NOBODY IS OKAY IN A WORLD YOUR SISTER IS LIVING IN.
"Yeah." No, no, no. Calm down. There were still many things to do, and I couldn't aggravate my body and mind by losing to my anger or hatred.
Besides, Henry had proven himself, and was a great, obedient help. Now I am allowing him to stay as my dog, so there is nothing gay there to think of about. I had to keep my word.
The future will change. So all is good.
"Close the portal now." I said, and Henrietta turned and made a zipper-pulling motion again, this ti upwards.
I could again feel the air change, and the portal seed to close.
However, in the midst of her movent, a shadowy figure ca out, slipping to us as if forcing itself through the last crack of a closing door.
Henrietta stumbled back and fell on the ground full of trash, while Henry slung his arm from behind over my stomach and pulled
closer, simultaneously throwing his military knife.
It passed through the shadow without any goddamn obstacle.
I had to move my hand up and make a 'catching' movent, to get my newly acquired gun out of my mory because I hadn't conjured it up before; luckily, my ability worked again.
I fired at the shadow that stood still in front of the portal, as if it were looking around this new world it ca into.
How could a bullet be more effective than a knife if you are confronting a ghost?
It wasn't.
The bullets flew through the shadow, and it ca closer to Henry and ; I could feel that it was targeting .
The feeling ca from an unpleasant chill that wandered down my spine.
Henry pulled
behind himself as my thoughts raced, and I tried not to give in to my weakness and fall backwards.
I don't know how to kill it; I have no fucking idea.
The dread of my own powerlessness and the realization that my ability, which I had relied on endlessly, was not helping
even a bit right now, immobilized .
How to fight soone you are unable to touch?
Like so dumbass, I stood there, getting shielded by my dog while the shadow had closed in on Henry, lunging at him and penetrating his body.
I saw a contorted face peering out of Henry's back, only half an inch away from , before it sank back inside his body.
Henry broke down and fell backwards. I caught him and tried to hold him up, but he was so fucking heavy.
"Henry." I said, looking at Henrietta, and seeing her just as shocked.
"CLOSE THE FUCKING PORTAL NOW YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!" I felt all funny again, like in prison, like when I woke the first ti up in the goddamn hospital ward.
Henrietta hurried up and did as told, while I stepped back to let Henry down, placing him on the ground as cautiously as possible, and kneeled to his side.
His skin had a gray hue to it, and he was sweating, his whole skin scorching as if he had broken into a high fever, but his body tremored as if he were cold.
"Hey, you dumb dog." I slapped his face lightly, but there was no reaction at all.
"HENRIETTA, YOU BITCH, CAN YOU FUCKING HURRY UP?! WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?!" I shouted at her without turning around when I rembered again.
What do you never ever do if you et so fucked-up individual who carries the na Henrietta?
YOU NEVER TURN YOUR BACK TO HER!
I turned around, but all I could see was so aluminum thingy that looked like a discarded baseball bat, as it t my forehead and I blacked out completely.
**********
You know, even when you are asleep, there are monts when your consciousness flares back up. For example, when your feet are cold, and you rearrange the blanket, or when a feather from your pillow pricks your face and you adjust your position.
It was like this. Even though I was unconscious, I could still feel a knife slicing my flesh—my heart, my stomach, my neck. But while the pain told
it was real, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't act, and the darkness was just too enticing to wake up.
***********
The next ti I opened my eyes, I was in a room with dim lighting.
It took
so ti until I figured where I was—in an all too well-known solitary cell.
I grabbed my head, and felt a lasting hangover. On the floor was a paper tablet with food on it in disarray, partly on the floor.
Why was I here? I looked down at myself, and found that my prison jumpsuit was full of blood; my whole body was cold, and again, there was so much DAMN FUCKING blood.
I opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and saw that I had big, gushing stab wounds all over . That is what you would call a fucking overkill.
"What the...?"
I tried to shout for soone—prison guards, Needle-nurse, or even the fucking ghostbusters, but not one soul ca.
I took the blanket beside
and pressed it against my wounds. It was difficult to decide which wound I should apply pressure to because EVERY ONE OF MY WOUNDS LOOKED FATAL!
Only now feeling the crushing pain, it nearly made
lose my consciousness yet again.
"What is going on?" I groaned, half crying as physical tears shot into my eyes.
Why does this hurt so much, and why was I here?
AND WHERE THE FUCK IS MY DOG?!
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