AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Well damn. That’s what we in the business call a complete character assassination.
“I am not broken,” I seethe. “And I do not need to be looked after. Where is your stupid brother? I would rather have my throat ripped out than listen to this nonsense.”
“You have no food in your house.”
“Oh my god. I live in New York City! There’s food on literally every corner. You know what? You’re a fucking moth, so how about you tone down the judgement a little there, flappy.”
“You have no home.”
“My books are my home. Now shut up. You had no right to go to my apartment, and you have even less right to judge me. I’m here helping you even though you have the sexual morals of a flea and the personal boundaries of a sewer rat.”
He chuckles. Nothing I say seems to get under his skin, but he’s finding his way under mine almost without effort. It’s because he went out of his way to get to know me by breaking into my apartment. I should, and do feel violated, but I can admit to myself that there’s a very small part of me that is somewhat flattered this monstrous creature has any interest in me at all. If he was more like his brother, I’d just be dead. Instead, here I am, arguing with him at the top of his lungs while he appears to enjoy the argument.
I suppose I have to give him some cultural leeway. He was hatched, he said. Probably didn’t have a mother to tell him not to snoop on people. Probably didn’t have anybody to guide him. I wonder if his fellow insect people were responsible for him, or if there’s still a mad scientist from the 1940’s drinking youth juice and remaining impervious to the effects of time.
I wish I could see where he came from. I intend to get back at him. I intend to find out all about him, just as he seems to have found out all about me.
The beating of wings shuts me up. Acting swiftly, Justice grabs me by the back of the neck and hauls me back against his body, wrapping his lower limbs around my waist. It’s a possessive grip, and it reminds me immediately of our wicked embrace yesterday. I feel him stiffen against me immediately, flooding me with the memories of his massive cock. He is built like a monster, and I still ache because of him. There’s not enough time for him to fuck me again. I’m slightly disappointed. Being with this moth creature lowers my inhibitions, because nothing seems entirely real.
Rage is here.
I hear a slight jingle as he lands heavily. He still has the cuffs on, apparently unable to free himself of his own accord. It’s satisfying to know that he’s been suffering a little. If I have my way, he will suffer a lot more. He will serve a sentence commensurate with his crimes.
Rage is slightly smaller than Justice. I wonder if he is younger. Very probably. He has the air of recklessness of youth about him.
“Give me the key,” he says, not bothering with so much as a hello. “Actually, give me all of it. I’m going to rip her fucking head off.”
“Easy, Rage,” Justice says.
“Oh, I get it. You’re attached to her. You’re such a twisted, perverse fuck,” Rage laughs. “You might want to fuck her one last time, because I am going to open her up and feast on her entrails. I owe this human more pain than any of the other humans who came before her.”
“She’s going to give you the key,” he says. “Just hold on a second.”
“What do you mean, hold on a second? You called me and told me you had the bitch here and I could do with her what I wanted. Now you’re telling me to hold on? Give her here!” He reaches for me with a swipe of claws. His hands are all still cuffed, but he still manages to use them by beating his wings and twisting his body in such a way as to slash across my body.
Claws! Were they there before? I don’t know for sure. I do know that I see them clearly now in the night and that they seem sharp enough to slice me from neck to navel. I gasp in a breath, images of his previous victims racing through my mind. I could be hurt here. Badly. I could be gutted and disemboweled before Justice even realizes it. He’s holding onto me, but that doesn’t give either one of us anything in the way of maneuverability.
“Easy!” Justice booms the order that is not a proper order and hauls me back a step or two. By this stage I have started to struggle for real, my fear palpable now as I attempt to free myself from Justice’s grip. I will not simply sit here and let myself get hurt. Fuck no.
“Let me go! Let me fucking go!”
Rage laughs. He’s forgotten about his suspicions. My distress has him entirely focused on me now, predator that he is. He makes another one of those bold, aggressive, awkward swipes with his cuffed hands. This time he catches my coat, turning the button up area into a fresh set of fabric ribbons in an instant.
“The fuck!”
Cursing is starting to feel completely pointless, and yet it keeps emerging from me. I cannot help it. Everything about this situation is fucked, including the fact that Justice is not letting me go. He keeps me dangling like the worm on a hook I am, baiting his brother along for some as yet to be determined purpose.
“Justice! Let me go!”
His arms tighten around me, and when the next slash comes for my guts, I sustain a light scratch across the actual bared skin of my belly. A fraction of an inch deeper, and he’ll be in the fat layer. A fraction more, and my insides are going to be outside.
Just as I am almost certain that I am going to die from a botched monster sting, Order launches himself from the top of the shipping containers. I didn’t see him up there. He must have climbed up in the dark and been waiting for the right moment.
I watch, amazed, as he comes sailing down from that vantage point, webs emerging from his fingers in a splay of material that goes absolutely fucking everywhere.
He lands on Rage, tackling him to the ground, doing his best to coat the angry monster in his sticky web. But Rage is not going to go down that easy. He fights back with his cuffed hands, doing more damage to the webbing and potentially, to Order himself. The spider is agile, used to capturing struggling prey, and Rage is somewhat hobbled by his cuffs, though not as much as I am in Justice’s arms.
It’s a struggle for him to hold onto me, because I am also trying to break free. The detective and the criminal are both stuck in a battle for what feels like our lives.
