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Red like Silas’s blood.

“You fuckers,” I roared. I thrashed against their hold wildly. If for even a moment their grip let up, I’d be after them.

I wanted to tear the flesh from their bones while they watched.

I wanted to see their life draining from their eyes and feel their last breath.

My face was drenched with tears, spit spraying from my mouth as I screamed, “You fuckfaces–I’ll kill you!” My throat was hoarse and shredded, but I continued to kick and jerk, willing myself to break free.

Rage surged through me, cold and blinding. Every nerve ending screamed.

I had never killed someone before, but I knew that if given the chance, I would kill these men. I would kill them all with pleasure.

Silas was motionless on the ground. My gut burned with guilt. I should’ve protected him.

“You think this is over?” I spat, voice low and trembling with hate. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

I didn’t care that there were three of them. I didn’t care that I was already beaten.

“Aww, boyfriend is upset,” One of them mocked as they pinned me flat against the street.

“All you freaks disgust me,” another voice rang out. I didn’t give a shit who it belonged to. They were all dead men in my playbook.

I was still drowning in thoughts of vengeance when I heard the phrase: “Knock him out and shut him the hell up.”

The final image burned into my mind was the bottom of a shoe—then nothingness.

I woke up choking in a pool of my own blood.

I coughed twice, clearing my airways. My face was bleeding, I could tell by the dampness of it. Little pieces of asphalt wedged into my skin. I had a hard time adjusting my eyesight to the darkness around me, but I knew I hadn’t moved an inch. Still on the street.

But on the upside, the world was quiet. The men had left. I was alone.

My eyes cut to the side. Not quite alone. Silas remained on the ground within my reach. A mask of dried blood covered his face completely. He was still.

“Silas?” My voice only surfaced as a whisper. I hardly recognized the sound of myself. I coughed again, blood spouting up my throat and out of my mouth.

“Silas?” I tried, a little louder. My throat burned.

Please, wake up.

I reached out slowly, my arm stiff. My hand brushed his face.

Please don’t be dead.

Silas’s eyes flickered. My whole body melted into the hard ground from the relief that consumed me.

He was alive.

“Why...did you do that?” he asked. His voice was sandpaper.

“Hmm?” I was drifting. My mind seemed to float somewhere high above my body. Kind of like when I smoked too much. I didn’t feel like I was on the ground, but I knew I hadn’t moved. Whether that was from blood loss or the pain, I had no clue. The world spun.

“Why…?” Silas asked again, but his voice was barely audible. Like he was speaking to me from far away.

I stared up at the night sky. No stars. Only darkness. “I don’t know…”

Sleep tugged at me, but I fought it.