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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1672856
My own private little revenge fantasy that I hope to never have to indulge. Enjoy!
         I concentrated on the padding of my bare feet on the soft mud of the woods instead of the excruciating sting of the cold night air burning through my lungs. I wasn’t quite sure why I was running, but it was an urge I couldn’t dismiss. There was something behind me, a feeling of dread and disdain, perhaps a long forgotten ghost looking for company. I smiled to myself.
         The feeling in my chest of adrenaline and fear began to clench harder and harder with every scenario running through my head, making me run faster. I didn’t know if my head was getting the best of me, and I didn’t care at this point; I just needed to keep running. The poem I’d heard in Deathproof, and like a nerd, had memorized, kept echoing in my mind.
         “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, and I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. Did you hear me, Butterfly? Miles to go before you sleep.”
         It was at the word “miles” that I thought to stop and wonder how far I had run and what time it was. I finally stopped and looked at my IPOD for the time. 4:30am. I had been running for twenty minutes. I looked around me and realized I had no idea where I was. Not new for me at all. I looked around, still a little dazed from the bright light of my music screen, and saw a bush wiggle. “What a beautiful time for a mountain lion to eat me,” I muttered to myself, backing up slowly before turning away and walking back the way I came, careful to step as quietly as possible. I took my headphones out, but did not turn my music off, refusing to call more attention to myself with the light. I peeled my ears as hard as I could, though my heart was pounding in my head, my breathing harder than I would have liked. I stopped for a second to calm myself, feeling a bit lightheaded and hunger biting at my stomach with blinding force. Of all the god damned times to be starving. I thought to myself.
         I heard a footstep against the dry leaves and ceased my breath. I didn’t turn around. I knew it was human. The footsteps began to accelerate, and a smile crept across my face, involuntarily, might I add. I turned my head ever-so-slightly just in time to see the silhouette of a man running toward me. I side-stepped to the far right as quickly as possible, hoping it was just another runner passing through. Of course, given the circumstances, I would have to be wrong. The man stopped behind me and put both hands on my shoulders. I rolled my eyes. Did he honestly think he could hold me like that?
         “Be very still, and I might not hurt you so bad,” the man whispered, shockingly cocky in tone. I chuckled.
         “I’m not so easily tamed, dear.” The man was just as tall as me, and from the grip and weight of his hands seemed to be about as strong as me. But strength didn’t matter to me; I was the evasive maneuver master, right? I dropped down to my hands as fast as I could and crawled side-ways and forwards away from the man, and then began running as fast as I could, laughing at the ease of it all.
         “You fucking bitch!” he screamed at me, making me laugh even harder. How pathetic! But then I got cocky. I stopped mid-step and whirled around just as the man caught up with me and punched him square in the nose as hard as I could.
         “Never, I repeat, NEVER underestimate your opponent, especially when they KNOW you’re coming, you insignificant little fuck!”  The man stared agape, holding his nose. “Speechless now, are we? Just a fucking second ago you were all talk, bitch. Where’s your walk?” I spat. The man looked angry. No, not angry. Fucking furious. Could I break him? If I broke him could I keep myself from getting murdered? The knife in my back pocket said “Absolutely, my dear!” I got in his face and bore my teeth. “What’re you gonna do? What can you do to scare me?”  Right as I said that, the man laid a fist into my stomach and it was all I could do to keep myself standing. “Is that it?”
         “You think you can handle what I’ve got, little girl?” he sneered. There was nothing that fed me more than a challenge of my strength.
         “Absolutely, boy And I don’t think little girls can make a grown man cry. Oh, yeah. I saw your tears, big boy. You’re not as tough as you think you are.” I barely had time to finish my sentence before he yanked my head back by my ponytail. I fucking hated having hair sometimes.
         “We’ll see about that, love.” A growl escaped my lips and the fight was on. I swung my fist as hard as I could into his jaw, causing him to let go of my hair, only to be met with a fist to my nose, knocking off my glasses and knocking me on my back. He was quicker than before. At least he learned. There was an audible curse from me as the man rushed to me and knelt on my chest, pressing his thumbs up under my jaw. I’d escaped this hold before. I bucked my hips as hard as I could and twisted, sliding from under him just to be grabbed again by the throat. He lifted me up and stood me in front of him. I didn’t fight. He was going to speak, and I wanted to hear him.
         “My name is Michael.” I smiled a coy grin.
         “Captain…” I croaked. “You will call me Captain.” The man slammed me to the ground and planted a fist into my face. I couldn’t help thinking how weak his punches were. “I can punch harder than you, you fucking—“ Another punch silenced me. “Fuck you!” Again. I could taste the sweet metallic flavor of my blood now.
         I grabbed the man by the throat, digging my fingers around his windpipe, willing myself to pull it out. I could feel his teeth grinding, feel him pulling away.
         “How is this, bitch? Do you like it? I’ve got more.” I reached behind me and pulled my knife from my pocket, flipping it open and prodding it into his side. “How does this feel?” I pressed harder, letting myself growl again. I knew eventually he’d figure out that both hands were free to hit me at anytime, and I relished the anticipation. After a good thirty seconds, he smiled a wonderfully sinister smile and threw his whole body onto mine, kneeing me in the stomach and punching me all at once. I coughed and spluttered, managing to spit blood onto his face. He laughed and his tongue crept over his lips, tasting the blood blissfully.
         “I didn’t know you were so sweet, my dear. I’d like another taste, if you’d be so kind.” He bent down to kiss me, but I bucked my hips again, throwing him off balance, but not off of me. He hit me again. “You’re a feisty little bitch, aren’t you?”
         “Yeah, I am, asshole. Is that all you’ve got? I’ve been beat to shit worse than this for fun.” I laughed a loud cackle and backhanded him across the face. He grabbed my hands with one of his, prying my knife from my fingers and holding it to my throat. Unbeknownst to him, it was pretty much dull. Even a quick, hard slice wouldn’t kill me. “Do you think I’m afraid of death? Do you think you scare me?” I laughed again, making him scream out in rage before punching me again. He didn’t stop for another forty-five seconds, (yes, I counted), leaving me in a bright daze. I could feel the blood trickling down my face from my nose, lips, and cheeks, and probably my eyebrows too. “That’s what I thought…” I whispered weakly. He began to stand up, throwing my knife beside my head (I don’t think he meant to do that), before brushing himself off and popping his back. Was he done? I sat up slowly and put my hand over the knife. “You done?” The man laughed at me.
         “In your dreams, whore.” I smiled.
         “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” I stood up weakly at first, but gathered my strength. I wondered if he realized the knife was in my hand. I hoped not.
         I walked toward him slowly and put a hand on his cheek. “You know, odd as it may seem, I think I kind of like you.” He laughed.
         “Don’t pull that shit on me. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” I smiled as innocently as possible.
         “I'm not pulling anything. You’re just what I’ve been looking for, a sadist; someone to put me in my place.” I stepped even closer to him, touching his nose to mine before kissing the man softly at first, but more harshly as time went on. I pulled away and smiled a big smile, stroking his cheek and lips with my thumb before jamming my knife into his temple. My smile didn’t fade as the man’s face became blank, his body teetering back and forth. I set a finger on his chest and pushed, sending him tumbling to the ground at last.
         Kneeling beside him and studying his face, I was surprised. It was soft, almost childish. He had an attractive one, lucky for him, with perfectly proportionate features. His eyes were open still, moonlight twinkling across the lifeless balls. I closed them gently, lingering on his cheek again. He wouldn’t be cold yet. I chuckled and grabbed his face, yanking the knife out of his skull, not an easy task mind you. I wiped the blade on a leaf and stuck it in my pocket, sighing. As I started to walk away, I realized I didn’t have my glasses on, so I got down on my hands and knees, looking for what seemed like hours before finding them under a bunch of leaves.
         Dawn was just beginning to break as I reached the edge of the woods, displaying a luxurious array of pink and purple clouds. I spit the remnants of the man’s mouth and set off toward the police station.
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