Alice stands in the threshold, a fruit basket spilled at her feet, apples rolling like severed wolf eyes. Her face is ashen, nails dug so deep into her palms that blood beads at the tips, her gaze locked on Alex's hand splayed across my back:
Alice Smith’s eyes redapartment like a rabbit’s, her voice quivering “A-am I interrupting something?”
In an instant, Alex shoves me away.
The wound on my back tears open, sending me careening backward.
“THUD!” My skull crashes against the nightstand’s corner, warm blood blinding my vision.
A guttural growl rips from my throat as I slump to the floor.
“Alice, it’s not what you think!”
He doesn’t spare me a glance.
The door slams with a howl, leaving me alone—blood dripping onto the sheets, blooming into macabre roses.
I start to laugh, tears m
