The coldness

The neck of the gown was pulled away from her as the zip was obviously undone exposing a notable part of her fair chest.

What was she doing with the king when she had a fiancé? What was the earlier sound? Was the king trying to kill her after a decade? Or was it delayed for me to watch?

My thoughts had been divided and they were in conflict.

The woman opened her eyes weakly and looked at me. I saw no blood on the floor but I saw blood on . . .

What the f . . . was happening?

I felt so angry that my anger overshadowed my fear for the man who looked like the king of the jungle . . . no the king of hell, the devil.

I had to go and help her. If I made her have an affair then I should be responsible for her, right?

My wrist was caught when I was only a foot away from her and I was pushed hard as I tried to struggle with the strong hand holding me back.

My back hit hard against the wall and I literally saw stars as I winced. That hurt.

A set of cold fingers wrapped around my neck and that was only when I raised my head to meet the gaze of the tall man who had my back pressed against the wall.

His hand was not strangling me, at least not yet. His eyes were no longer the black they were in the picture or when I walked into the room by mistake.

They were red, I mean scarlet, crimson, burgundy . . . I don't know but every word you could use to describe the color, blood-red.

And those very scary blood-sucking eyes were now looking at me. My heart raced loudly and I was almost getting a panic attack simply from his gaze.

I froze as his cold angry eyes gave me a once over. Not the type of once-over you get due to envy or admiration.

Maybe a hint of admiration but not for my handsome admiration but the type that a slaughterer gives a good fat cow at the slaughterhouse.

I was crying out to my mother who I hoped would pray seriously enough for God to transfer my plea for help to her as a vision.

He was taller and I had to tilt my head to meet his gaze. His fingers began slowly clamping down on my throat as though someone was tightening the knot.

Well, he was tightening the knot of his fingers against my throat.

My eyes began bulging painfully and I was petrified. I raised my hands impulsively and wrapped them around that hand holding my neck and tried it away.

It did not even budge as it continued to very slowly yet noticeably tighten around my neck.

His red eyes had no anger or hatred towards me just simple yet complicated emptiness and darkness that felt soul-sucking.

I was shaking like a blade of grass in the wind. I heard a desperate plea.

Well, that high-pitched plea escaped my lips pathetically.

"Please," I continued to beg as my body moved kicking I don't know if this has ever happened to anyone before but I was too scared to muster the courage to kick him because I was scared that he would not hesitate to snap my head off.

I was dying of fear like I was literally dying.

"We meet again," he told me in a low cold voice that rose every single hair on my body perhaps including those not on my body.

I swear his voice had the same effect the air conditioner had because the temperature dropped and I was shivering more than ever and either my ear or my lips froze because I could not hear that unfortunate scream anymore.

"Aaron, how have you been?" he asked me with that same coldness.

What a position to exchange such pleasantries. I was about to wet my pants, man. I don't know why I felt like I needed to go to the restroom urgently.

I swallowed which was very difficult with those fingers around my neck. "I am sorry," I apologized like I should since I stole his fiancée, to begin with.

"You are?" he asked frostily. I was not sure if that sounded amusing to him or annoying as I could not even guess what he was thinking.

"Yes, I am. You have killed her. You do not want to kill me too, right?" I murmured hoarsely while hoping he would regain his consciousness and release his fingers, slightly is enough I swear, in the position I was.

He scoffed so emotionlessly and his fingers clamped tighter on my neck. He got closer to me and I concluded that he was going to kill me as he did to her with his teeth.

*Lesson learned: human teeth . . . no they are not humans, right? Whatever. Well, a good set of teeth could be used as a weapon to kill.

"You must feel hurt to see her dead, right? From the moment you had her, she became a walking corpse," he whispered dangerously close to my ear.

At that point, I had already resigned to my fate of living with only one ear.

My heart was racing as his breath felt very cold against my ears. Who had cold breath? Someone who was not a human, right?

I was not sure . . . the truth was that I had no intention of answering his question as he continued to lean closer to me that I only needed to stick out my stomach to touch him.

He emitted a weirdly interesting coldness that made me wonder how that was possible.

Now I am not sure if I should prefer the fact that his fingers around my neck had loosened as his thumb now slide up to my jaw . . . you what?

The fingers should have remained on my neck unmoving than the feeling of his cold thumb rubbing my neck.

He licked his lips before bending his head lower and lower. When he moved his thumb completely away from my neck and tilted his head with his lips moved close to my neck, my soul escaped my body.

That was not funny at all.

I was about to die for goodness' sake.