Chapter 112 feeling angry
The bitch had the scalpel in her hand and she was slowly running it on my face as she admired my skin.
“Chloe that’s not what we here for”, l heard the deep angry voice of his friend John.
“We need the babies not her”, The bitch also snapped back. Throughout this mess l had nothing to do and just like that, l felt the cold slide of something sharp against my cheek.
I sucked in my breath when l felt my warm blood trickle down the side of my face. It dripped onto the shell of my ear before collecting on the rim. The pain was terrible as l felt her push the sharp edge of the scalpel in my skin. I was feeling every nerve fiber with the sensation of burning fire. It hurt so badly that l bit my tongue and tasted my blood.
“I want to first write my name on this face”, She was talking to herself as she continued to run the scalpel on my face. I felt the scalpel dig deeply into my cheeks but I bit my tongue more, on the edge of screaming for help. “I always first smoke before working with you, you really piss me off”, l heard his co worker sneer. He was probably standing, watching her as she cut my face. It was all useless because I had a feeling that my skin will heal itself.
The bitch laughed like a sick phycho in response then went on with cutting my skin. “Those cigarettes will kill you before the Werewolves do”, She hissed back at the man. “Whatever”, The man snapped back then I heard his footsteps fade away. He was leaving. This was the only chance l heard.
“Look, l don’t care whether he is gone or not, l will get the babies out myself”,
“But after working on this face….”, She was murmuring to herself and her words cemented how insane she was. After cutting my face for a pretty good time, she walked around to get something.
I lay there half numb while silently counting every second down . I was analyzing the room through the cracks of my eyes and I wasn’t going to allow this bitch to do anything to my babies.
The room had the typical set up used for most higher up labs. There was a computer monitor within hand’s reach to the right of my body. A monitoring device was set to the bottom of my feet. Next to it was a 2 metal trays filled up with different types of surgical instruments.
Further back against the wall was a set of cabinets with a sink attached to it. Out of everything, l saw the only thing capable of hurting her quickly and effectively was the scalpels. But the scalpels were on the metal trays and she happened to be standing right next to it.
This meant that l couldn’t grab them without dealing with her first. It was sadly impossible at this moment. I needed to first knock her off before John comes back. I will have enough time to prepare myself for him. The only thing l could rely on right now was being faster than her.
With a deep inhalation of breath, l bit down hard on what was left of my tongue as l glanced at her through the slits of my eyes. She finished putting on her gloves then turned to the metal tray. Her body was semi – relaxed and after getting something on the tray, she turned her eyes on my belly.
This was the opening l was waiting for.
Quickly l pulled myself up and twisted my body then swung my legs off the metal table. I clenched my jaw and swallowed down the acid that was forcing it’s way in my throat. Slowly l grabbed the computer monitor with both my hands.
She had the clatter and made a move to turn around but she was too late. Her delayed reaction was a millisecond late. I forcefully jerked the monitor up and dragged the cords behind me. I slammed it hard into the side of her face.
She gave a short pained shout, raspy and high pitched and fell forward into the metal stand. The entire room was filled up with the sounds of the instruments falling off the metal tray, clattering loudly as it fall down on the tilted floor.
Chloe reached her gloved hand out for a pair of scissors but I kicked it out of the way with my foot barely missing the sharp point when my toes grazed the edge. Then I stepped on her hand that was still reaching out for the other instruments haphazardly strewn across the cold tiled floor.
“You fucking bitch, you not going to get out of here alive”, She seethed when l slammed the monitor against her face again and received an ugly choked scream in response. “Neither are you”, l smiled gruesomely down at her.
Blood dripped down my palms then down onto her face. At my words, her unusually confident face melted into anxiety and nervousness beneath her surgical mask. Before she could her mouth to scream for help, l gripped the towel then muffled her scream with a towel that was full of my blood. I ignored her feeble protest.
“I want to give you a slow death, the walls are sound proof”, l stated with dark chuckle. Using all my strength, l pressed the towel tightly on her face. She scratched uselessly at my arms, raking my body welts all along my wrists and arms until my skin burned painfully.
I didn’t care about that now. I was so angry. Cutting my face was fine but thinking about my babies was the thing that pissed me off.
She weakly struggled, her sharp nails scratched across my neck and chest but I did not relent. I held the cloth onto her nose and mouth while repeatedly beating her face with the computer monitor. “This is for trying to hurt my babies”, l told her in between each beating.
“This is for being a bitch”, .
“And this is for messing with my face”, The disgusting wet sounds filled the room.