WHO CRACKS FIRST
773 Words
CHAPTER 7
WHO CRACKS FIRST
GRACIAS’S POV
The moment he grabbed my hand. I smiled inwardly.
Yes, that's the reaction. I thought.
He said he said my looks alone was a sin penalty by death.
That connects it to my father. We might not have met, but my father. My mother said I looked so much like him.
If I was a code ‘A002’ Then he must be ‘A001’
He grabbed my throat. His eyes blazed.
“I thought you were just an innocent girl” his hold on my throat tightened.
I could hardly catch my breath.
I struggled but his hand held me in place.
He scoffed looking at my expression not begging but exposing.
He let me.
“You are testing me” he said, his eyes fixed on my scar on my cleavage.
He walked back to the couch.
“Your test failed” he sank into the couch.
His hand rubbing his temple.
He said I failed my test but it was a success.
My hand rubbed the scar on my cleavage.
He just affirmed it was connected to the man I have never met but bear his face.
If A002 is a person, then that should be the mystery he tried so hard to find.
My father vanished with me after my birth then returned to me immediately when I turned five, but I have no memory of that. Even the scar on my chest.
It has always been there for the 20 years of my life.
“You are here because of my father,” I said.
His face expression changed, his fist tightening.
“What do you think?” He asked, his face blank. No emotions shown.
He walked over.
Gently he tilted my jaw.
His hand tracing my face.
“Too bad you have never met him,” he said, yanking my chin up.
It hurt but it didn't matter at the moment.
Where will I run too? Run back to MANDULA? What about my education?
I shoved his hand away. My hands on my waist.
“If you want to kill me. Make it quick don't terrorize me” I said stuttering.
He scoffed and picked up his gun.
“Really?” He asked. His hand clung around it.
“Then I will make it very quick”
‘Pop’ the bullet left the gun.
My breath hitched.
Cold sweat ran down my spine.
“The bullet drove past my ear then a loud groan of someone falling hard on the ground.
For a moment I couldn't move then he hurried over. He dragged me to his back shielding me.
He wasn't shooting me but someone else.
He grabbed my hand and we ran outside. To the widow's side, a man lying dead on the ground, blood gushing out from his forehead.
My knees went numb. I stared at him in horror.
I just dared him to kill me. The fear I tried so hard to wash away returned.
I staggered back and he caught me. His amber eyes staring at me triumphant.
I held his hand gently.
He whispered gently, “You failed your test” for the second time.
“You don't look like your father, you don't have a father”
What? Who doesn't have a father?
I thought but I didn't argue. I couldn't argue nor would I dare argue with him.
He was a freaking monster. He can take life at ease.
He led us inside. I didn't want to go back inside with him.
He leaned in and whispered, “Even if you go to the underworld. I will still find you” his voice soft yet deep with sin of blood.
He seemed calm, killing someone, how many people must have died in his hands.
He handed me a glass of water.
He watched me drink it slowly, his hand tenderly petting my head.
His eyes fixed on my cleavage. He stretched out his hand to touch it.
I held his hand half way.
“What are you doing?” My voice quivering.
He smiled and said, “Let's get a knife and cut it open. Don't you want to know what's inside there?” His expression turned cold. His lips curled up in a devilish grin.
He moved to the kitchen, his movement solid, his livid body commanding obedience.
He came out with a knife.
Does he want to cut me open? Slowly he walked over.
The cup on my hand fell to the floor due to my trembling hands.
He stood there, his eyes fixed on my chest with his dark expression.
- Writer
