Page 7 of Kill Feed

One step.

Then another.

Each step hits me with the sickening certainty that I’m trespassing into a situation I don’t belong in. Yet, the worst part isn’t the dread clawing up my throat.

It’s the familiarity.

I’ve seen this all before.

Xavier’s eyes find me with wide, glossy, begging blue orbs. Begging for help. Begging for breath he can’t pull in. Begging for a miracle I don’t have.

One I won’t give him.

I reach him and crouch, my shadow folding over his slashed neck as a sick, copper-sweet scent curls up and into my lungs.

Irritation tightens behind my ribs as my vision narrows. This shouldn’t be happening, but my thoughts are already moving ahead, stripping the situation down to what comes next.

Then everything inside me goes quiet.

My heartbeat slows, the world sharpening around me until there’s nothing left but absolute focus.

“What a fucking nuisance.”

My words barely echo in the air, and I shake my head at the sight. Death seems to follow me wherever I go, and it’s starting to piss me the fuck off.

Why is he dying right now? Why does he look so pathetic trying to stay alive? How much more can pour out of one person? These are the questions that fill my mind as I watch Xavier gargle and gag.

I should be asking who did this. What happened, and where is the killer now?

But no, instead I crouch by his dying body, watching the light in his eyes falter.

He even tries to say my name. It scrapes out of him like air passing through gravel; his lips tremble as they shape the sound again, but nothing follows except a bubbling hiss from the wound.

His chest rises once.

Again.

Then… doesn’t.

The silence after his last breath feels so loud it hurts my ears. I wave a hand slowly over his face, checking for breath. For a twitch. For something. His eyelids don’t flicker, and his mouth stays open in that last half-formed attempt at my name.

Holy shit, he’s actually fucking dead. Or he’s doing a very good impression...

My gaze drops to the wound again, but the haze shatters at a sudden sound stirring behind me.

A shuffle? A footstep?

Fuck, what was that...

My whole body locks. All forms of thoughts now shift towards possible danger. There’s a flicker, movement where there shouldn’t be any, slashing across the corner of my vision. Instinct spikes and I move. My foot catches on limbs as I throw myself forward out of harm's way, and I fucking fumble.

I go down hard, tripping over Xavier’s corpse. My shin smacks into his ribs with a wet crack, and the give of his body under me is so grotesque, bile rises in my throat. My palm skids through his blood, smearing red across tile.

A blade whistles past where my throat was a heartbeat ago.

My body slams into a cluster of chairs, sending them shrieking across the floor in a metallic, animalistic wail. Pain flares up my side, but I ignore it. My sneakers lose traction, skidding uselessly over the floor. I claw at the nearest table, fingers slipping, grabbing, then slamming down hard enough to make the wood groan.

I whip around so fast my neck cracks, vision tunnelling into a single point—