Night Fury: First Act Read Online Free PDF Page B

“No, her mom is ill. She’s helping out there for a little while.”
    My lip curls in revulsion.
    Disgusting slob. Filth. You are filth.
    Ari puts a hand to her cheek. “Oh, my, the poor dear. I understand. I wish she had told me; I would have asked Father Robert to place her in our prayers.” She smiles up at Marcel. “Never mind. Tell me something, Marcel?”
    The man looks at her expectantly.
    Her eyes become devoid and her face morphs into pure malice. “Do you enjoy beating your wife?”
    In the midst of their silence, I pull the door all the way open and step lightly across the short distance into the living room.
    A shocked Marcel finally sputters, “You are insane.”
    Ari steps forward. “Do you like the way your son cries in agony when you rape him?”
    Marcel’s body stiffens, and he growls, “Get out.”
    Ari smiles cruelly. “No, I don’t think I will.” She reaches up to her right shoulder, gripping the material of her habit. “It’s time you got yours, Marcel Dupont.” Pulling the material free, her habit falls to her feet, revealing the weapons strapped to her body. She smirks into Marcel’s stunned face. “Tonight, you die.”
    Marcel puffs out a humourless laugh. “You have lost your mind, woman.” He points to the front door. “Leave before I call the police and have you charged with attempted assault with a deadly weapon and intent to kill.”
    Ari laughs then. “Oh, you silly man, I am not going to kill you. No. Not me,” she jerks her chin over his shoulder, then leans forward and whispers, “but she will.”
    As soon as Marcel turns to look behind him, he’s greeted with my swift kick to his head. He flies backwards into the dining room table. The corner point catches him in the centre of his back and he cries out.
    Ari whistles to me. I turn in time to catch Koneko mid-air.
    Pulling the outer sheath away from the twenty-four inch curved blade, my breathing falters.
    She truly is a beautiful sword.
    My gaze slips from Koneko to Marcel, who has yet to stand from his fall.
    He looks up at me, fear etched into his features. “I tried to get help.”
    Rage boils low in my gut. My teeth bare and I growl.
    I stride over to him, my katana out by my side. Kneeling by the drunk man, I enquire, “You tried to get help?” He nods. My hand flies out and I slap him across the face roughly. I repeat sternly, “You tried to get help?” He begins to cry, but he nods regardless. The sound of the second slap echoes throughout the room. My palm tingles and itches from the impact. Reaching behind him, I grip his hair tightly and pull it so hard his head snaps back. My voice shaking, I relay the words my father figure has drilled into me: “There is no try . There is only do .”
    I release my grip on his hair and stand, lip curling. “You are disgusting, you filthy pig. You deserve to die.”
    Marcel shakes his head, whimpering and trembling. “No. Please. Don’t.”
    Ari walks up behind me. “You are doing wonderfully, petit fille . Do it. The quicker the kill, the quicker we can leave.”
    I nod soundlessly.
    “Marcel, I think you should pray for forgiveness.” I point to Ari. “Crawl over to Sister Arianne and pray for God to forgive you.” When he makes no move to do so, I add, “Now, you sick fuck.”
    Body quivering, his tear-filled, worried gaze darts from Ari to me, and slowly, he starts to crawl over to her, shaking in terror. He reaches her feet, lowers his head and mumbles his prayer.
    “That’s right.” Ari looks down at him. “You know what you are doing is wrong. Pray for God to forgive you, Marcel. You must beg for his forgiveness; your sins are great.”
    Marcel mumbles louder, his words slurred.
    My feet move of their own accord. I tread lightly, moving to stand directly behind Marcel’s kneeling position.
    Without another thought, I lift my katana and place the tip at the base of his neck.
    His body stills. He stops breathing.
    I breathe in deeply, and then out