Chapter 1- Daggers and Danger
" Touch me and you'll burn."
Waking up with a dagger pointed at your throat isn't the best thing in the world to wake up too.
Absolutely terrifying? Yes.
A good idea? No.
I looked at the masked men in front of me, raising an eyebrows and looking at them half with amusement and half with anger.
" What the actual f*ck? Do you have a death wish or something?" I snarled, " Has nobody ever told you not to disturb a girls beauty sleep?" I shoved my hand under my pillow and rolled onto my side for a slight second before moving back with a handle clasped in my hand.
I stabbed him.
Oops.
He fell over, hand clutching his stomach.
To say they were shocked was an understatement. The guy I stabbed just stared at me in disbelief while one of his friends was rolling around on my floor laughing. The other one just stood there emotionless. I looked back at the guy I stabbed.
" F*cking crazy b*tch, " He mumbled, I scoffed.
" Yeah I know, it's great isn't it?" I said sarcastically.
I heard the man I stabbed groan and I saw his blood dripping on my floor.
"What the f*ck are you doing? Don't bleed on my floor, are you f*cking stupid?" I shouted, clenching my fists. I really wanted to stab him again.
He looked at me again with incredulity, " Are you serious? You stabbed me. "
I looked over at his friends again, the laughing one seemed to have sobered up a bit and they both stared at me shocked.
" Can I kill him?" I asked the serious one.
" No," His deep voice was laced with anger, whether it was aimed at me though was something I couldn't detect.
" Not even a little bit?" I went on, he just looked at me with a " Are you f*cking stupid" look. I huffed in boredom.
" Fine, I won't kill you yet. But this doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Just don't bleed on my floor."
" Y'know.... That's not what an apology for stabbing me sounds like." Smart-ass commented.
" Bite me."
I stood up and faced them, studying them.
3 men. Early twenties. Experienced. Possible threat. Each had a gun in their waistband and the serious one had a knife stuffed in his sock. The scars on their hands showed me that they were experienced fighters which surprisingly wasn't uncommon anymore.
Society was f*cked.
" Why are you breaking into my house?" I questioned, my hands wrapping tightly around the blood stained knife in my hand. "It's illegal for me to be awake at this time!"
" Boss' instructions. He wants to talk to you." The laughing one said to me. His face still covered by the mask.
" And you couldn't have just phoned me or knocked on the door like a nice, normal person?"
" We aren't normal people." Smart-ass said. I cocked my head in fake concentration.
" Who are you then smarty?" I mocked, waving my knife about in the air again.
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