40 — Stained Red III

"You think this is some kind of game? Some little stunt you'll just shrug off? Look at that blood on the floor."

He turned his gaze towards the security officer.

And gasped, choked, sobbing. "No... no... I- no... that can't-"

"He's got someone waiting for him. His kids, maybe his family. His life, his hopes and dreams, all of it. And he might have gotten himself killed by someone who doesn't have anything to lose and certainly nothing to gain."

I slid his own knife up his neck, the flat side cold against his flesh. Perhaps I was going a little too far. This wasn't the favelas; the repercussions of killing someone here wouldn't be a simple cover-up.

He whimpered. It's brutal when you have literal nostalgia over it, like a taste on the tongue.

You can tell yourself it's just adrenaline and anger, but there's no point. Deep down, you know exactly why your hands don't tremble, your heart rate doesn't increase, and why your breathing remains smooth.

Because you've been there before. You've done this. It feels good, having this much control. Over life and death, no matter the life, or the situation.

It reminded me way too much of the vindictive satisfaction I got from destroying the man behind my mother's death. Him and everyone involved.

But I wasn't Jair anymore, this kind of life didn't suit me anymore, so why...

Why was my body still remembering the old rhythm, the old feeling?

I pressed the knife just enough that he would be able to feel the cold metal on his neck. It felt like a game of roulette. Would the blade bite, and spill his life in front of all these people?

My hold didn't tighten, instead...

"You're lucky." I told him, my voice low. "I have too much to lose."

I glanced back at Mia, who, for the first time had a look of semi horror in her eyes as she watched, her lips slightly apart and eyes locked on me. I slipped into autopilot, my body moving without any conscious direction from me.

The mall's PA blared. "All guests please calmly leave the building and make their way to the closest emergency exit. We repeat: please exit the building in an orderly fashion."

Sirens sounded outside the mall.

Help was coming, and the threat was subdued.

I slammed his head against a display case and dropped him to the ground like a ragdoll, just to be sure the guy was completely incapacitated. The moment the threat was neutralized, the switch was turned off. The adrenaline left me all at once. I didn't give him another glance as he crumpled, his head slamming against a display case. It'd leave a mark. But, it was better than the knife ending his life.

"Are you alright?" A feminine, panicked voice, said. Her breathing was quick and irregular. I turned towards the female store clerk, who was still too scared to approach. Still, she mustered the courage to walk up to me, at least. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

I shook my head. "What was that even about? Do you really know him?" I asked, eyes fixed on the guy groveling on the floor.

"Ah, yes." She gulped, her lips trembling. Her legs were shaking, but I suspected that was from the rush of it all. "He's... well, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight. A regular customer. Always came with a bouquet, bought gifts, asked me out... I-I've always said no. Then he began stalking me. I got calls from unknown numbers at all times, saw him waiting for me outside of my door, in my car, and it didn't matter if I drove around, he would find me in whatever restaurant, club, cafe or shop I went to..."

"......" I stared at the concussed bastard on the floor and kicked the knife from his hand's reach.

"I've had my share of admirers but..." She continued, hugging herself. "He... he's been very aggressive lately."

I ignored the rambling clerk and made a beeline for the security guard. He was slouched over on his knees. Blood oozing and his skin becoming increasingly paler every breath he took. He looked up at me pleadingly. He opened his mouth to try and speak, but I placed my finger up to stop him.

"Don't talk." I ordered in a firm tone. The security officer had already lost enough strength and blood to be barely able to keep himself from keeling over. He was wheezing, staining the tiled floor a bright crimson. He didn't say a word as he watched me. "Here." I ripped a chunk of his uniform and wrapped it tightly around the wound. The stain slowly seeped through the fabric. I tied it tighter to help staunch the flow. I had done a million similar treatments before, both to myself and others.

I did what I could do, given the circumstances.

"You're lucky, sir. He missed all your vitals."

He breathed a little deeper and tried to smile. The poor bastard still didn't move an inch. His expression was still pained, and a little bit lost, like he wasn't entirely sure what was going on, or how to process it, but he wasn't dead, and he was conscious.

"Stay with me." I muttered, pressing down harder on the shirt, forcing the blood to clot against pressure. "Don't close your eyes. Look at me."

I leaned closer, keeping my voice steady, calm, the way my old instructor taught me back in the camp. Your tone keeps them alive as much as your hands do.

His gaze flicked toward mine, unfocused, but at least he was trying.

"Good. That's it. You've got a nice strong heartbeat fighting in there. Just hang on."

Sirens wailed closer, red light bleeding against the glass storefront. Help was seconds away, but seconds stretched forever when someone was circling the drain.

"Clerk—" I snapped my fingers once to get her attention. She startled, eyes wide, hugging herself like she might shatter. "Snap out of it. You—come here. Put your hand right there." I guided her trembling palm over the wad of fabric. She hesitated, but when she felt the warmth of the blood seep through, something shifted in her expression. Fear turned into focus.

"Hold it firm. Don't let go until someone in uniform tells you to."

"B-but I don't—I don't know how to do this. What happens if—"

"Not important. Just hold tight until the paramedics take over." My eyes moved between his chest, his neck, his face. Pulse was a touch sluggish but steady, no fluid in the lungs or the airways. "Keep him awake and breathing. You can do it." Then, I stood. "I'll get out of your hair."

"Wait, don't just—" She glanced towards me. Then, towards the guy laying down a couple meters away from me. "We should... at least tell the authorities how you helped. You shouldn't go—"

"I'll just be another nuisance in the paperwork and report if I stay." I gave her my back. I caught a flash of gold blonde in my peripheral. Mia. She was still where I left her. But her face— there was something written on there, but I didn't know how to read it, nor did I want to, for some reason.

She followed me, grabbing hold of my sleeve and sticking close to me, but still, not uttering a single word.

What was there to say?

We walked past the entrance doors and exited the mall, brushing past the sea of curious people that had stopped to gawk.

Their voices and whispers became a dull murmur of noise that we could ignore and easily drown out.

xXx

Mia's POV:

She watched Jae-il wash the blood off his hands in a public bathroom sink. A deep, dark, crimson red swirled away in a spiral pattern down the drain, and it seemed almost like it would go on forever until the water finally ran clear.

He looked so... nonchalant, completely unperturbed by the whole ordeal. Even after the adrenaline wore off and the rush subsided, he still remained a stoic, impassive image of calmness. Then, once he was done, he even checked himself in the mirror and fixed his slightly disheveled hair.

She gawked at him.

He continued, totally unbothered.

"Hey, can we..." She swallowed the rest of her words down her throat. Her hands fidgeted together in a fitful manner. "Are we just going to brush that aside and continue like nothing happened?"

"Mm." He seemed to acknowledge her words with a grunt. "Well... you wanna skip lunch and call it a day?"

"Skip... skip lunch? You..." Mia shook her head. "You have no qualms with what happened? I mean... you could have died! He could have easily stabbed you..."

"Yeah, he could." He turned around, his eyes fixed on Mia's face. "But you were behind me, Noona, and I couldn't have you hurt because some crazed idiot wanted to make a spectacle of his 'love life'. I didn't want you to get caught up in the middle of whatever that situation was. And I didn't really think much of the danger at the moment." There was a long, stretching silence, where she could've said anything in reply, but her brain went blank.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

Her face was flushed.

And... her fingers reached out and pulled his collar.

His eyes widened in alarm when he saw her lips, so rosy and glossy from whatever lipgloss or balm she used, inches away from touching his own lips. God, she really wanted to. She really wanted a taste of it. One second. Even less than that would've been enough.

But the alarmed widening of his eyes was enough to tell her that it'd have been an incredibly stupid idea. He barely batted an eye when facing someone wielding a knife, but was caught off-guard when she moved to kiss him.

Seriously…

So she aimed a little to the side. The softness, the feel, of his lips grazing her own, as she kissed his cheeks.

"......" She breathed, lips still against his skin. She was shaking. It was subtle, barely visible, but there. She pressed further into it, and lingered for longer than was usual, a real kiss, a true act of affection and devotion, rather than just a familial habit.

This... wasn't normal.

Right? It couldn't be. Normal siblings weren't supposed to... to be this way. Right? Her mind went over and over it. It was wrong, sick, perverted. It was a mistake, a fluke, some mental breakdown...

She let go.

Unbeknownst to her, was that Jae-il actually had anticipated a true one. For a moment he had fully, mentally, emotionally, physically prepared himself for the forbidden contact.

It was a growing seed within him, and what'd stem from it was certainly not a beautiful flower. He was aware of that, as aware of how his body had begun to, slowly and inexorably, react to his own sister of all people.

The contrasting emotions made him freeze on the spot.

He didn't seem to react.

He didn't move a single facial muscle.

Then, her arms found their way around his waist. Her embrace wasn't too strong or overwhelming, just enough that she was there.

"Thanks, dummy." She said in a low, warm voice, full of gratitude, mirth and relief. "That was... kinda scary. So let me just stay like this, alright? Just for a little bit."

"......"

"...Aren't you going to hold me?"

"...You want me to?"

"...Idiot."

"Alright, alright. Don't be like that. We're in a bathroom, you know."

"Who cares."

"...Right."