Bloodshed (Order of the Unseen) by Molly Doyle

Author:Molly Doyle [Doyle, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Removing the knife from the back of my waistline, I turn the corner.

“Derek,” I call out, taunting him, tracing the blade with the tip of my fingers, as adrenaline pumps through me.

“Yeah, bro,” he calls back almost immediately. “Who’s that?”

“Come find out.”

He steps out from behind a fake wall, dressed in his stupid little costume. “Sick Ghostface mask,” he observes, laughing. “Do I know you?”

Stalking toward him, my grip tightens on the handle of my knife. “Not quite,” I answer. “I’m a friend of Quinn’s.”

Confusion claims his face as he moves beside the dim light plastered to the wall. “Quinn?” he asks.

Impatiently cocking my head to the side, I nod. “Ring any bells?”

“Oh. Yeah. That weird little bitch whose dad offed himself, right?”

Tossing him against the wall of the hallway, I waste no time in jabbing my knife into his chest. There’s blood spurting, bones crunching. Over and over, and over again, I gut him, painting the walls, floors, and my mask red. He chokes on his own blood, gurgling, half-sobbing for me to put an end to my vicious attack.

There’s no stopping now.

I made a promise to my little Quinn that I would make them pay. With their life.

Their blood.

His body becomes limp against the wall. Yanking the blade from his ribcage, Derek lifelessly drops to the floor with a hard thud.

One down.

The rest to go.

Adrenaline rages through me as I rush into another room, spotting a guy in a scene, dressed as a crazy, old scientist. How fucking cliché.

“Are you going to be my next subject?” he asks, reciting his corny line, gesturing down to a fake corpse on what appears to be a metal operating table.

“No,” I growl, jumping over the table as he stumbles backward. “But you’re mine.”

He turns to run from me, shocked and confused, until I bury my knife into his back. Crippling over, he then drops to his knees, in a state of shock. That’s when the pain finally hits him, ripping through his body. And he screams in both agony and fear, as I twist the blade sideways in his flesh.

“John?” I sadistically ask, demanding an answer.

“Y-y-yes,” he chokes out, collapsing onto the floor, convulsing.

“Johnny boy!” I humorously shout, yanking out the knife before rolling up my sleeves.

With a quick toss in the air, I catch my knife by the rippled handle, before burying the sharp metal between his shoulder blades next.

“This is for Quinn,” I mutter dryly, kicking him in the ribs. “One stab for every year you and your friends tortured her.”

There’s another crunch as I stab him again. Again. And again. I end up getting off track and lose count in a fit of rage. There’s more gurgling. Quiet whimpers of desperation, as he begins to crawl forward, using what little energy he has left.

“How aren’t you dead yet?” I joke, stepping on his back, now covered with deep gashes, and soaked with blood. I click my tongue at him. “You’re not going anywhere, Johnny boy. This is the part where you die for what you did to her.

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