Page 97 of Claws & Cover Ups
I look down at my hands holding two Wendy’s cups. My hands are small, barely holding on to the cups. I push them together before they fall off.
Don’t want to leave evidence. I try to switch off the air conditioner, but the buttons don’t work.
“You’re so weak. I don’t know why I wasted so much time on you,” The Werewolf says.
I ignore him. I need to get out of here. It’s an open parking lot. Anyone could come at any time. It’s late, and the streetlights are broken. The darkness engulfs our surroundings so much that I can’t see anything outside.
There’s still light in the car, though. Somehow.
I gently place the cups in the cup holders and start cleaning the scene.
“You think you’re better than me? Just because, what? You’re selective about who you kill? All you are is a killer, Elli boy. Just like me.” The Werewolf laughs. It’s scarier than I remember. I don’t have the time to analyze that right now, though. I need to run.
Once I’m sure there’s no trace of me ever being here, I pick the cups back up in my tiny hands. I feel like I’ll freeze to death just like Drew if I stay here any longer.
“He really thinks he can escape? I thought he was supposed tobe smart.”
My hands freeze, the cups drop with a splatter.
That voice. I know that voice. I used to like that voice. It still sounds light, but there’s a note of viciousness deep down.
I don’t dare to turn. I can’t.
“Elliot? You can’t escape me. You’re mine, remember?”
I want to be his so desperately. I turn then, and Nicholas’s face comes into focus. It’s him, but his incisors are sharp, his claws are out and bloody.
My heartbeat picks up. “No, no, no, no,” I mumble.
The Werewolf laughs. “He’s so weak,” he repeats.
Nicholas nods. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Elliot.”
I push the door open, but my foot misses the ground, and I’m falling.
“Elliot.”
“No, no, no, no,” I mumble.
“Elliot.” Nicholas’s voice doesn’t sound vicious anymore. Just concerned.Urgent.
I feel warmth engulfing me. I soak it in. Letting it seep deep inside me so I’m never that cold again.
“Elliot.” This time, his voice is soft. I feel a warm breath against my forehead.
I’m soaked in sweat and tears. My face must be red and blotchy.
I don’t want to open my eyes. Because that would mean facing reality. Facinghim.
“Elliot?” he whispers and I slowly open my eyes. Nicholas’s face is hovering over me. He smiles small when his gaze meets mine. I flinch unconsciously.
“You okay?” he asks.
I swallow.
He pulls back, his arms slipping from around me. I miss the contact already.
“You need water?” he asks. I can see him curling in on himself to make himself look non-threatening.
