Chapter 12 Twelve
For a moment, there was only the sound of the knife against the counter.
Then Salvatore finally spoke.
“You talk too much.”
Mira blinked.
“…Noted.” She said softly
She wasn’t really expecting an answer from him either.
He didn't say a word.. he just kept working.
Mira exhaled quietly, shifting slightly in her seat, still watching him.
Something was unsettling about how normal he made it look.
Like blood outside the house.
Dead animals.
Midnight cooking.
All of it belonged in the same calm routine.
And didn’t wash the eerie feeling it brought.
Salvatore kept working at the counter, his hands steady as he cut the meat into even pieces.
“You looked scared earlier,” he said suddenly.
Mira froze.
Her eyes lifted to him slowly.
There was no change in his expression. He didn’t even look at her while speaking.
She cleared her throat, trying to sound normal.
“It’s not every day you see a man walking around with blood all over him,” she said. “And a dead animal in his hand.”
A beat passed.
Salvatore didn’t say a word.
He continued whatever he was doing.
He placed half of the meat into a ziplock bag, sealing it, and then placed it into the fridge. Then he set aside what looked like the liver, still stained dark and bloody, storing it separately.
After that, he turned to the gas.
Seasoning the rest.
Calmly.
Like a pro chef...
Mira watched, her discomfort slowly returning.
Then he finally spoke again.
“Why were you scared?” he asked.
She pause.
“You think I’d kill you?”
Mira went still.
Her throat tightened slightly.
She didn’t answer immediately.
The answer ringing in her head..
Yes. For a second, I thought I was about to become the eighth missing person.
But she didn’t say that.
Instead, she forced a small shrug.
“…You don’t exactly give warm welcome energy,” she said carefully.
Silence.
Then.. suddenly he laughed
Salvatore was laughing.
It wasn’t pleasant in her ears at all.
It echoed slightly in the kitchen, bouncing off the walls in a way that made the air feel tighter.
A chill ran down Mira’s spine immediately.
The laugh stopped just as suddenly as it started.
He turned slightly. Just enough for his eyes to land on her.
Didn’t say a word just stared at her like.. He was studying her for a moment.
Then asked, calmly,
“Are you afraid of death, Miss Zoss?”
Mira didn’t answer right away.
His question hit her in a way she didn’t expect.
Are you afraid of death?
For a second, her brain just… froze.
Then suddenly she hiccuped.
Once. Then again.
Her hand went to her chest like she could physically stop it, eyes widening slightly in frustration.
“Seriously?” she muttered under her breath. “Now?”
Salvatore just stared at her for a second.
Then he turned away and, walked to the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water.
He came back and placed it in front of her.
Mira stared at it.
Like it might explode. Or confess something.
Mira didn’t reach for the water.. her thought ran wild
“It’s just water.. he can’t possibly.”
Salvatore reached for the bottle and opened it
Took a slow sip from it himself first. Then handed it back to her.
Mira blinked… shocked
She hesitated for a moment longer. Then took the bottled water.
Still watching him.
Still unsure.
She raised it slowly and drank.
The water was cold.
Able to stop her hiccup but unable to quench the uneasiness inside of her.
As she lowered the bottle, Salvatore spoke again, his voice calm as ever.
“If I wanted you dead,” he said, turning back toward the stove, “it wouldn’t be by lacing your water.”