Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 115 - . Where?

No idea if it had to do with my ability, or with the ability that these Henriettas had, or if sucking blood in a parallel world was overall a thing.

However, as happy I had been that Henrietta was powerless, I nevertheless was now personally feeding her.

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Very good, slapping my face so soon.

After a short hesitation, Henry gave me his knife, and I cut into my left arm before giving it back. He took it back and stepped behind me to watch closely.

Henrietta came over and grabbed my wrist with a force that let me know of her discontent, before she placed her lips against my bleeding wound.

I again felt what was left of my strength draining while she drank.

It was difficult to discern the look she gave me while drinking my blood, but I remembered that she had seen Henrietta2's life, so probably not only Kenny2 abusing her, but also him fucking her. Well, that would be embarrassing for both of us IF SHE WASN'T A THREAT TO HUMANITY AND A HEARTLESS COLD-BLOODED BITCH!

I hadn't even started to get angry about her killing Henry2 and CONSCIOUSLY LEAVING THE EVIDENCE AGAINST ME WITH HER DEAD COUNTERPART, EVEN COMMENTING THAT I WOULD DESERVE IT, WTF?!!?!?

Henry's hands landed on my shoulders, grabbing me tightly, and making me interrupt the heated eye contact with my nemesis for life.

When she finally let go, I pressed against my wound with my dirty sweater and leaned against Henry behind me because I had no energy left.

"Are you okay?" He asked in my ear, and my thoughts wandered again to these gay visions. DAMN IT! Why do either I or one of my counterparts have both strange sexual connections to these pair of evil twins?

Additionally, I feel like he had turned into a broken record, always asking if I was okay. NO FUCK! I AM NOT OKAY, AND YOU ARE NEITHER; NOBODY IS OKAY IN A WORLD YOUR SISTER IS LIVING IN.

"Yeah." No, no, no. Calm down. There were still many things to do, and I couldn't aggravate my body and mind by losing to my anger or hatred.

Besides, Henry had proven himself, and was a great, obedient help. Now I am allowing him to stay as my dog, so there is nothing gay there to think of about. I had to keep my word.

The future will change. So all is good.

"Close the portal now." I said, and Henrietta turned and made a zipper-pulling motion again, this time upwards.

I could again feel the air change, and the portal seemed to close.

However, in the midst of her movement, a shadowy figure came out, slipping to us as if forcing itself through the last crack of a closing door.

Henrietta stumbled back and fell on the ground full of trash, while Henry slung his arm from behind over my stomach and pulled me closer, simultaneously throwing his military knife.

It passed through the shadow without any goddamn obstacle.

I had to move my hand up and make a 'catching' movement, to get my newly acquired gun out of my memory because I hadn't conjured it up before; luckily, my ability worked again.

I fired at the shadow that stood still in front of the portal, as if it were looking around this new world it came into.

How could a bullet be more effective than a knife if you are confronting a ghost?

It wasn't.

The bullets flew through the shadow, and it came closer to Henry and me; I could feel that it was targeting me.

The feeling came from an unpleasant chill that wandered down my spine.

Henry pulled me behind himself as my thoughts raced, and I tried not to give in to my weakness and fall backwards.

I don't know how to kill it; I have no fucking idea.

The dread of my own powerlessness and the realization that my ability, which I had relied on endlessly, was not helping me even a bit right now, immobilized me.

How to fight someone you are unable to touch?

Like some dumbass, I stood there, getting shielded by my dog while the shadow had closed in on Henry, lunging at him and penetrating his body.

I saw a contorted face peering out of Henry's back, only half an inch away from me, before it sank back inside his body.

Henry broke down and fell backwards. I caught him and tried to hold him up, but he was so fucking heavy.

"Henry." I said, looking at Henrietta, and seeing her just as shocked.

"CLOSE THE FUCKING PORTAL NOW YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!" I felt all funny again, like in prison, like when I woke the first time up in the goddamn hospital ward.

Henrietta hurried up and did as told, while I stepped back to let Henry down, placing him on the ground as cautiously as possible, and kneeled to his side.

His skin had a gray hue to it, and he was sweating, his whole skin scorching as if he had broken into a high fever, but his body tremored as if he were cold.

"Hey, you dumb dog." I slapped his face lightly, but there was no reaction at all.

"HENRIETTA, YOU BITCH, CAN YOU FUCKING HURRY UP?! WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?!" I shouted at her without turning around when I remembered again.

What do you never ever do if you meet some fucked-up individual who carries the name Henrietta?

YOU NEVER TURN YOUR BACK TO HER!

I turned around, but all I could see was some aluminum thingy that looked like a discarded baseball bat, as it met my forehead and I blacked out completely.

**********

You know, even when you are asleep, there are moments when your consciousness flares back up. For example, when your feet are cold, and you rearrange the blanket, or when a feather from your pillow pricks your face and you adjust your position.

It was like this. Even though I was unconscious, I could still feel a knife slicing my flesh—my heart, my stomach, my neck. But while the pain told me it was real, I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't act, and the darkness was just too enticing to wake up.

***********

The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a room with dim lighting.

It took me some time until I figured where I was—in an all too well-known solitary cell.

I grabbed my head, and felt a lasting hangover. On the floor was a paper tablet with food on it in disarray, partly on the floor.

Why was I here? I looked down at myself, and found that my prison jumpsuit was full of blood; my whole body was cold, and again, there was so much DAMN FUCKING blood.

I opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and saw that I had big, gushing stab wounds all over me. That is what you would call a fucking overkill.

"What the...?"

I tried to shout for someone—prison guards, Needle-nurse, or even the fucking ghostbusters, but not one soul came.

I took the blanket beside me and pressed it against my wounds. It was difficult to decide which wound I should apply pressure to because EVERY ONE OF MY WOUNDS LOOKED FATAL!

Only now feeling the crushing pain, it nearly made me lose my consciousness yet again.

"What is going on?" I groaned, half crying as physical tears shot into my eyes.

Why does this hurt so much, and why was I here?

AND WHERE THE FUCK IS MY DOG?!