NINA.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
The sun shone, a billion pinpricks of colour. It sank low in the sky, awash with maroon cobalt and amber amethyst, burnt byzantine noir and shots of crimson glory, cooling in the sky.

Submitted: December 16, 2011

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Submitted: December 16, 2011

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NINA

The sun was dying quietly and soon it would be dark and blue and cold on the plains. She would surprise him. She would kill him quietly and quickly and run. She would hide in the dark forest to the south of the crossroads by the red tree and wait for them. They would hand her the money in solid thick green stacks and she would kill them too. She wouldn’t know how to pilot the helicopter but she would fly it across the frozen lochs and mesas and escape. She was scared and cold and quite alone in the world and the money would pay for the doctor and the bribes. She would escape.

She got up slowly. Her hair was soaked with sweat and melted snow. She drew a dark glove across her lips.

She closed her eyes. Her pale face drenched in sweat. It was cold and dark and he was a shadow and she was a pale shadow on the ice.

He thrust his knee into her stomach, feeling taut muscle.

Nina gasped.

He found her dark blue eyes. She screamed and pushed him, blood and clear fluid dripping from a dark glove.

The world was half a blur of dark angry color, and his eyes glowed red.

Nina inhaled painfully. She felt his glove like a brick against her cheek. When he removed it, her whole face was black and blue. She was crying. He took her by her hair and dragged her to the center of the lake. The surface exploded in a spray of crushed ice.

He shoved her face into the cold black water and held her. He let her surface. He watched her vomit water.

“Kaz-Kazuya...it’s-s...so cold...”

He forced her back in. He waited a minute exactly. When he pulled her out her face was blue and she was silent.

She groped blindly. The utility belt was strapped around her bare thigh and she felt a smooth Kevlar handle. She felt something across her chin and shattered enamel in her mouth. She found solid muscle and his baritone scream as his hands clutched hers, holding a long silver knife between his ribs.

She pushed him flat on his back on the cold hard ground.

She struck him.

She struck him again and again until her knuckles tore. He held her crumpled fist, letting his hand drift down her muscled back and wide hips. His jet hair ran with freezing blood. He gripped her desperately, tearing black fabric from her. She felt cold snow against her calves.

She struck him again and again until she collapsed on top of his chest. Her pale hair caught the dying sun as she vomited and wept, her dark blue eyes brilliantly red in the sun.

And the sun shone, a billion pinpricks of color. It sank low in the sky, awash with maroon cobalt and amber amethyst, burnt byzantine noir and shots of crimson glory cooling in the sky.

She crawled to the dark hole in the icy lake and washed her face with cold water. Her hair was the color of cornsilk and dandelion summer but her face was gray, and black and blue like a defeated sea.

He was dead.

Nina tore a swathe of dark fabric from her thigh. She wrapped it around the left side of her face and tied it viciously behind her head.

Nina got up slowly.

She pressed the recessed button and coughed into the microphone.

They would hand her the money in solid thick green stacks...

“Nina?”

“Nina...”

“Nina!”

And the sun died quietly, dark blue and cold on the plains.


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