Scent of death

I place the table between us and change direction every time they try to dodge it. It’s not just Ivan who’s chasing me now; the two guards and Dante have joined him. Seeing him like an animal ready to harm me breaks my heart.

“Dante, please, no, snap out of it,” I plead through bitter tears.

I see no trace of reason in his eyes, and finally give up. I run towards the office as they split into groups of two to come at me from both directions. I know I can call the police from there. I hear desperate grunts behind me, getting closer and closer, while almost devilish laughter escapes from Malia’s throat. She’s enjoying the show.

Just as I’m about to reach my destination, a hand firmly grabs my right arm, and I fall to the ground. A white cloud swirls with me, uselessly covering my body from their eyes. The pain of the fall takes over my body, and the impact of my head against the ground momentarily prevents me from thinking. It’s only when the adrenaline flows through my veins due to the fight unfolding in front of me that I regain my senses. They’re fighting to get their hands on me, and I drag myself across the ground, trying to get away. But one of the guards grabs my ankles to pull me towards him.

He lies on top of my body, his hands imprisoning my wrists while his teeth sink into my neck. A cry of pain escapes my throat and catches the attention of the other three. They abandon their fight and pull my attacker away from me, only to pull back the sheets of my body and fight again over who will have the right to hurt me.

A gunshot rings out in the hallway, but apparently I’m the only one who notices. The fight continues, but one of the guards has fallen to his knees, spitting blood through his parted lips. He reaches his hand towards me, trying to reach me with his last bit of strength, and finally dies.

Another shot follows, and another body falls, this time without even attempting to reach me. I grab the sheet again and retreat with all my strength until I reach the door to my room. I go in and close it, leaving Dante fighting with Ivan while Malia laughs hysterically with a gun in her hand.

A third shot breaks my heart: Dante, must have shot him. The victor pounds on the door, which trembles under the brute force. The creaking tells me it’s about to give way. I look for something to attack Ivan with as soon as he comes in, open the drawers, and find nothing useful. I reach inside and rummage through the contents of the first drawer until I touch something cold. I close my fingers around the bottle and finally decide to find out what’s inside.

I open the lid of the black perfume, bring it to my nose, and take a deep breath. Bitter notes penetrate my soul... It smells like death. That’s exactly what I need. I take a bit of the blood dripping from my neck and pour it into the bottle. The perfume bubbles and emits a faint mist that soon dissipates, indicating that the mixture is ready.

I position myself against the wall opposite the door and raise my hand when I hear the crying of the wood. It won’t be long until he’s inside. I try to calm my breathing, but the pounding of his fists prevents it. Amid a deafening noise, a naked body finally manages to enter the room, and my hand drops, unable to attack him.

Dante looks at me as if he wants to take me to my death, approaches me in large strides, takes me by the arm, and throws me to the floor. From there, I watch him without even being able to blink.

“Don’t tell me you thought I was going to deprive myself of the show, that a stranger would hurt you wouldn’t be much... but if the love of your life does it, that’s art,” whispers Malia, leaning against the doorframe.

Tears run down my cheeks as he leans over me and tries to force my legs apart. One of his hands gets tangled in my hair and pulls, forcing me to turn my head to the side. His nose approaches my neck and goes up to my hair, sniffing deeply.

It’s not until his eyes meet mine that my vocal cords react:

“Please, my love, no... Please, don’t,” I beg, choking on my tears. “You’re not like this. Remember how you met me,” I insist upon perceiving a spark of humanity in his eyes. “You saved me, just like you would have saved Arianna.”

The grip of his hand loosens, his fingers relax while a struggle between what he truly feels and the essence that compels his to act this way rages inside his. When his eyes begin to recognize me, I know I’ve won.

Tears rain down on me, he lets go of my hair and looks at his hands horrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I hurt you,” he whispers before kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry,” he repeats with his lips pressed to my skin.

A sarcastic applause interrupts the moment, making us aware that this is not over.

“Congratulations, it seems your willpower is stronger than I thought... Anyway, it would have been a magnificent ending, it’s a pity they ruined it with their mushiness,” she mutters, approaching slowly.

Dante stands up, ready to defend me, but a gunshot sounds before he can even get close to her. He grabs his stomach, takes a couple of steps back, and finally slips down the wall, leaving a red trail on it.

I crawl over to him, tears streaming from my eyes, and I’m unable to do anything to stop the blood from flowing out of his open wound.