40. K vs. K

"I tell you." I said, unable to rip my eyes away from Kenny2's reddish-browns.

"Are these contact lenses, so lit." Wtf I wouldn't talk that gay; the secondhand embarrassment got me.

"Tell me first, if you killed Henrietta, what happened?" I asked him.

Kenny2 distanced himself.

"Ah. Her. Was your Henrietta also seeking you out cause she had problems with her memory?"

"Yeah."

He nodded,

"She was a bit dumb, but hot. We brought it on, and yeah. She has something on her that can push my buttons."

"Tell me." I rolled my eyes. I am the same with my Henrietta as it seemed, only without being an abusive macho bastard.

"Yeah." He chuckled,

"You get me, only you." He had sat in the spot Henry sat, across from me on the couch table.

"She wanted to get to the police, with her phone, my messages, and the picture I took from her—a bit of crazy stuff we did. Then she disappeared. Three fucking months. There was an uproar; everyone thought it had been me. Cause I hit her a few times....Bullshit."

What a loser.

"Wtf, same on my side."

He nodded at me, believing this shit.

"Finally, we all landed here. And guess what. I found her in the forest when I first woke up here."

"And?" I crossed my arms, thinking where to get a weapon, but nothing was near me that I could use, besides the remote control.

"Well, we were somewhere foreign in the middle of nowhere. I saw that she was dead and thought, 'See, you got what you deserved, and it hadn't been me'…but then…"

I pointed at him,

"She moved!" Now it made sense, at least, why there were two different causes of death. Bet Henrietta2 had hit her head for whatever reason, and Kenny2 had strangled her. Still, it doesn't make sense; why was her dead body on the damn street?

He pointed back at me, and it seemed we were staring in a mirror again, just that the picture was flipped.

"Yeah. Not only did she move, she made this horrific gurgling sound; it was really nauseating to look at. There were no hospitals or anything. What to do? I strangled her."

"Mhm, would have done the same." I nodded.

"Really?"

No. I don't know. If she really was on her last breath, and just suffering… I don't want to ever make this kind of decision, but I would have not felt excitement when doing it, that for sure.

"Cause I had a vision; when I touched you just now, I flipped the coin." Ah crap, that would have been a good idea to do. Hadn't thought of that.

"And I saw us fighting for life and death; not sure who made it out alive though, cause you know…"

"We look the same." I said before throwing myself on him. The couch table broke, and we rolled on the floor. He was on me, choking me while I punched his solar plexus, making him let go and bend his upper body, not getting air in his lungs. I wanted to punch his throat, but the next thing I knew was that I had a knife in my thigh. What is it with knives and my legs today? Fuck. It hurt way more than Henry's stabs.

The feeling of getting something rammed through flesh and muscles—this slicing, stabbing pain, where you think every millisecond that it can't hurt more. But you get surprised with a pain that surpassed the last; ah, it is a really hurtful experience.

He punched my face and pulled the knife out of my thigh. Fuck, that was not good. He was again on me, choking me with one hand, while I grabbed the blade with my hand, slicing my palm in the go, but at least stopping him from puncturing my eye, which he had targeted.

If the door opened now for my dog to enter, it would be really nice. What would not be so nice would be the 'I am the real one', 'No, I am the real one'- play, but this problem we luckily don't have because HE HAD STABBED MY LEGS AND SHOULD REMEMBER THE BANDAGE HE PUT ON ME THIS FUCKER.

Turning my face, I diverted the direction of the blade before letting go of it. It rammed in the floor beside me. Raising my upper body, I headbutted Kenny2 with all I had, seeing stars in the go. 

However, like when making a goosebumps-inducing sound, the recipient is always on the losing side with headbutts and nails on the chalkboard. Contrary to the disruptor.

Kenny2 fell from me and let go of the knife. I pulled it out of the floor before hitting his head with the handle of the knife.

Wasn't it time for my dog to return?

He fell on the ground, and I was unsure if I should finish the job. I once again rammed the handle of the knife over his head and made sure he was unconscious. 

Falling back, I noticed that the wound on my thigh bled a bit too much. What was it? When an artery is punctured, you have a minute or something. Reaching for the bandage that had rolled from the destroyed couch table, I bound my leg before I lost all strength and fell back.

Henry, you will bleed for this.

I was half conscious when I heard the door open, Henrietta yelping, and Henry running to me.

"He needs a doctor, immediately." He tightened the bandage on my tight, and I was too weak to even breathe otherwise.

"I bring you to the portal." Henrietta offered.

"Yes, and you will come with me."

"Fine." She said, unwillingly.

Now we had my vision turning into reality, Henry carrying me all bloody inside a forest. I flipped the coin while he carried me; I don't know if we had even skin contact, but so be it. I just tried it, having a bad feeling besides not really being present.

Palm→ Black→ Henry's current future.

A man, while carrying an unconscious, bloody man, steps through something dark, undefinable that parted the air. A woman looking like him walks behind, having a branch in her hand. The moment they passed, she smashed his head before returning to where she came from.

I chuckled,

"Doggy." It cost me all my will to talk right now.

I felt Henry bending down near my mouth while still carrying me.

"Sister... smash your head."