Just a fanfic I did for Silence by Becca Fitzpatrick.
C H A P T E R
He grasped my shirt and pulled me further back.
“Y-your my D-dad!” I stuttered.
“Well Done pretty doll, but answer my question. Did you kill Chauncey?”
I stood and stared at him. We had the same defined features, and his skin was pale.
“Pretty Doll!” he whispered, “Time is running out, I don’t want to make this hard, but if you don’t answer...”
I felt something cold press against the skin of my neck. It was cool and it was metal, and despite the fact that I was surrounded by inky darkness I knew it was a Revolver.
“I killed Chauncey Langeais, and don’t you ever call her Pretty Doll!” Patch said it in his most patronising tone.
I rammed my foot up from behind and it connected with delicates of my father. He roared in pain but I was too fast, I had ripped open the shed door and stumbled out.
“Patch!” I screamed.
He rammed his head backwards and it hit his captors’ neck. There was a crack and the captor fell to the ground writhing in agony. Patch came to my side and stood in front of me as if I were about to die.
God save me! I prayed
My father came out of the shed. I could see him clearly now. He was perfect. He had the same Red-Brown hair as mine, and vivid Blue eyes. He wore a pinstripe suite but his eyes glistened with malice.
“Down!” He hissed.
An unseen forced attacked Patch and his body was hurled down into a kneeling position, his neck outstretched.
“Why Aron? Why?” Patch gasped at my Dad.
His name was Aron. Aron walked towards Patch.
“No!” I jumped in front of him but Aron pushed me aside.
Aron bent down to Patch and opened his mouth by Patch’s neck. I thought he was going to whisper to him.
“Run Patch! Run!” He tried but it was as if he was bound by invisible chains.
To my surprise Aron lurched forward and sunk his teeth into Patch’s neck. Patch writhed in agony.
“Get of him! Please g-get of-” Aron slapped me and I winced and stumble.
Suddenly the determination in Patch’s eyes increased, and he pulled away. He ran to me and caressed my bruised cheek.
“Your Neck!” I gasped.
The bite was black and it was slowly spreading.
“Poison of the Nephilim!” he whispered. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” His legs crippled.
“You’re going to die, aren’t you?”
“No Nora, it takes months to kill, it just attacks from the inside, and soon I’ll be cured.”
He was going to die and I knew it. I would have to save him.