Chapter 24 - Open wound [2] (1/2)

My vocal cords vibrated to an alien scream gushing out of my mouth. What was happening? Those things on the floor couldn't be parts of Grant. I shook my head in denial.

”Grant! Oh my god! Grant!” I crawled on all fours mindless of the metallic taste in my mouth. My trembling fingers grabbed hold of his leg and pulled myself to a seated position.

”It's ok, Liliane, It's ok,” his voice was calm and steady. He patted my head; white liquid dripped from his hand onto my cheek. Being able to touch him sent me in a vivid state where all colors drained out of the picture leaving only the bleak contours around charcoal outlines. Everything slowed down, sounds stretched to alien music.

”Oh, how charming,” laughed the grotesque cliché of an antagonist. I let out a burst of choked laughter. The situation was so scary it was funny.

”What, you're pissed 'cause I refused you?” I pulled myself to my feet while holding on to Grant. The Jay guy instantly lost his smirk. ”Tell me? What would this little show change?” I looked at him as I tilted my head to the side. Grant gave me a quick side-glance. The shock, the fear, the imminent death all mixed in a terrible c.o.c.ktail, moved me forward. I turned to Grant and for the first time, I saw the extensive damage he had to his left arm. There was a large gush from his elbow to his palm where three fingers were missing. Dark cables and wires hanging out—blackness seeping from his wound as white liquid dripped from it to the front of this shirt and down his pants. He lifted his free arm in front of me in a protective gesture. My heart squeezed inside my chest. Big droplets dropped from my eyes. I pushed my chin up facing my enemy.

”You're nothing! You don't even exist in my world. I don't care and never will. So what, your fat ego was wounded. Go seek professional help, for god sake!” I shouted as more tears poured from my eyes. He groaned, his lips pulled from his teeth, eyes bulging out in fury.

”I'll make it so you'll never f.u.c.k.i.n.g forget. I will hurt you so bad! You will have to acknowledge my existence,” he rushed forward slashing the air in rage. The deadly blade swinging at us. Grant dodged his blows and shoved me to the side, away from danger.

”Run, Liliane!” he shouted at me. He successfully pushed the assailant against the wall. Giving me enough time to stay clear from the fight. The door came bursting out of its hinges giving Grant the opportunity to push the intruder against it, knocking the knife out of Jay Dawson's hand. It went flying across the room. I gasped as the door toppled, hitting that leech on the head. Blood splashed over his face as he went crashing to the floor with the door on top of him. Dust hung in the air. A black shape hunched in the doorway.

”Grant!” it growled and rushed to him. Piercing blue eyes laid on me making me shiver. It had a vaguely human form blurry around the edges. I blinked trying to make out what it was.

”Shit!” it hissed. It rushed to me, I flinched as it grabbed me by the shoulder. ”Liliane,” Demos' handsome face pour out of the shadows, his body was still blurry. His voice and what was playing before my eyes seemed to not fit together. He shook me gently trying to snap me from my state.

”Please, Grant—he is hurt,” my voice came out completely flat. He paused to study me then nodded and went to Grant ignoring the guy groaning under the door. I was surprised he wasn't dead. Grant was leaning against the wall pressing his arm against his chest. When Demos approached him, Grant let out a dry laugh and show him the injury. Demos squeezed his damaged hand, Grant wobbled on his feet, his gasped and gazed at the ceiling.

”Why the hell did you let that bastard hurt you this bad? Do you know how much it will cost for the repairs?” shouted Demos. Grant lowered his eyes pressing his forehead into Demos' chest.

”That disgusting thing was touching Liliane,” Demos pulled away fuming, however, Grant grabbed his arm. ”No, please don't,” he shook his head. I slowly dragged my feet to join them.

”I'm going to f.u.c.k.i.n.g kill him!” he shouted through gritted teeth. His fierce blue eyes met mine, I held it. I felt eerily disconnected. ”The police will be here in no time,” he returned to Grant. ”I'll get the trauma kit,” Demos rushed to his pod, pulled a hidden drawer from its base and retrieved a spray can. Then he went through the kitchen drawers, utensils crashed on the floor making me jump. He came back with duct tape and a towel.

”Hold this for me,” he dumped the items in my hands and guided Grant to a chair. The floor was soaked with the white liquid. He sprayed the can over the open wound then pressed the towel over it. All the while, I stared at Grant's smiling face.

”Does it hurt?” I managed to say. Demos' snatched the tape from me, tore it with his teeth and wrapped it around the wound. Grant tilted his face at me. His eyes were slowly turning to a dull grey.

”It's ok, Liliane—it doesn't hurt,” Demos glared at him. I got closer and he wrapped his free hand around my waist while pressing his forehead against my belly.

”Of course, it f.u.c.k.i.n.g hurts!” shouted Demos getting to his feet. ”We just don't experience pain the way humans do,” my fingers went instinctively in his brown curls. He grabbed tightly on the fabric of my blouse.