The secrets we keep Chapter 6: The blood flowed like water

by Briyahna Rice, staff reporter

Levine was quick to notice that there was a drastic change in the way this girl spoke. Her demeanor was no longer quiet and cynical, but aggressive and hateful, as if she had changed into a totally different person in just a few seconds flat. He was shocked at this sudden change, but was even more so for her earlier outburst about his covert affections for the high school girls around the school. But for all he knew, she could have heard that from anyone, or she could have created the delusion herself and was trying to throw it in his face. Either way, he had absolutely no intention of giving her an edge.

“What in God’s name are you going on about, girl?” Lena didn’t let up on her glowering as she tried to shoot visual daggers into his body.

“God? You weren’t thinking about God whilst you were undressing those girls with your prolonged gazes and letting your mind be clouded with aspirations of having them in your bed. I know for an absolute fact that you were planning this. The evidence I have against you is cast iron and irrefutable .” said Lena.

Levine held his gaze throughout her entire tirade. She had said everything so clearly, that it was impossible to tell whether or not she was lying. But if not, he would be in enormous trouble if she decided to talk. In this moment, the only thing he could do was call her bluff.

“And exactly what proof do you think you have?” he said with confidence. Just like that, Lizabeth  took back control.

“Nevermind that. You won’t be around for much longer to see it.” she said with a ghost of a smile. A shiver unintentionally went up Levine’s spine at her sudden personality change. The sun had long since gone down, but he could still make out the faint smile on her lips.

“Excuse me?” he said.  Those would be the last words that he would say. Unbeknown to Marie, who had gone back to her cooking, before Lena had left she noticed that on a nearly vacant shelf that was close to the door, there sat a single rectangular vial that was about the size of a medium sized perfume bottle. The contents of the bottle seemed to be a liquid, but the cloudy off white coloring made it too difficult to tell. It moved and swerved inside the bottle as if it were a mini typhoon. Upon closer inspection, Lena discovered that it was liquid cyanide.

Perhaps it was out of impulse or illogical thinking but for whatever reason, Lena grabbed the bottle and shoved it deep into her pocket, and made a mad dash out of the store. She could never  understand what use she would have of liquid cyanide, but in this moment, now, the answer was crystal clear.

As quick as lightning, she unveiled the bottle from her pocket and hurled it right at Levine’s face with a frightening burst strength that only Lizabeth could provide. So frightening that the bottle shattered when it came in immediate contact with Levine’s face. A thick cloud of egg shell white coloring covered Levine’s face like mask and it was likely that shards of the glass bottle were now lodged deep in his face. But one thing that Lena was certain of was that Levine was in agony. The screams of pain that resonated from his throat was evidence of that.

Every scream that he let out seemed to ignite joy in Lizabeth’s heart, as he clutched his face in a failed attempt to rid himself of the pain that was consuming his face inch, by inch. Even Lena herself was filled with a sort of sick satisfaction, as she watched her enemy writhe and squirm in the worst way possible at her feet. At this though, a smile graced her lips and Lizabeth sounded off her approval.

“I knew you could do it.” she said happily.

“We did it.” Lena responded.  Whether it was Lena on her own, by Lizabeth’s control, or the both of them together, the fact of the matter was that Lena had accomplished what you could only get away with in a movie or a novel.

But the reality was that she now had to finish what she, -and mainly Lizabeth- had started. Lena was brought back to reality by the sound of Levine still screaming. She looked down at him with disdain and pure malice burning in her eyes.

“Shut up, already!” Lena yelled at him. From another pocket in her jacket she unveiled a pen that she’d used for the school day. Uncapping it, she grabbed Levine by his hair and carefully examined his face. Shards of glass had indeed penetrated his skin, specifically in his cheekbones and below his right eye.  Fresh blood was spotted in those specific areas and the wounds still seemed to be gushing out more and more.

But those wounds would seem like mere cuts compared to the damage that was inflicted by the cyanide. The open wounds created by the glass pieces caused a good bit of cyanide to enter Levine’s body and reacted horribly with his skin as it was puffed up and appeared to be blistering. The rest of his face was in the same condition, as his chalky white skin was eaten away and replaced by red peeling, blistering mess that shocked every nerve in his face. By now , his screaming had stopped and he looked up at Lena with his last good eye, his left eye at that. His face must have been on fire, but he still found the strength to talk.

“Why have you done this?” he muttered.

Lena still held nothing but contempt for this man, but now his attempts to beg her forgiveness, given his lecherous actions gave no remorse to her. She pulled tighter on his hair and prepared her weapon.

“Because you are a lustful, vainglorious, pathetic excuse for a man and I will not allow your advances on young girls to continue any longer.” she said with the utmost hatred. With that she jabbed her pen straight into his last good eye and watched as his body slowly loosened the grip of life that he so desperately held on to. From out of his damaged eye socket poured more blood, and from his mouth came a final gasp of air.

A moment later his body gave way and collapsed on the concrete with nothing left to cling to, but death. Still from his corpse, the blood flowed like water and stained the ground. But it couldn’t stain Lena’s heart and mind and make her comprehend the gravity of what she’d just done. For Lena said nothing and showed nothing. Nothing that resembled guilt, fear, or remorse. The deed was done and she was perfectly alright.

“So farewell Hope, and with Hope farewell Fear, Farewell Remorse; all Good to me is lost; Evil be thou my Good…”

-Satan

John Milton,

Paradise Lost