The Curse

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

I know she’s Niah.

“Is this how you welcome your guests? With a knife on their back? Quite peculiar.”

I have proven that I’m not a righteous judge of character.

“I’m sorry to tell you I’m a better actor than you are. So, tell me. What do you want?” she said with agitation in her voice.

“I never know that Demis are violent without a reason… Put that thing down while I’m still being nice.”

I heard her sarcastic chuckle.

“Really? What are you going to do if I won’t?”

Blood dripped from my nape as she pierced it deeper. I closed my eyes and sighed.

“I don’t like disrespecting women, but you left me with no choice.”

I turned around and held her wrist. She dropped the knife when I dislocated her arm. She groaned as her mouth twisted and her nose wrinkled. I pulled her closer to me and whispered.

“I hate seeing girls in pain. Can we talk without violence?”

She pushed me away and glared at me while touching her right arm.