- Bridget -

A burning pain radiated from the place where the knife stabbed into my body. The dress I was wearing stained by a growing circle of red.

Stacy handed me a knife under the table and pointed across the inn with an invisible hand. Her eyes shone red when she spoke. “Stab him,” she ordered me with a wry grin on her face.

My body stiffened, but I reluctantly approached the man, hiding the knife behind a fold in my dress. I felt as if I had no choice. Stacy hovered close by, watching judgingly.

“Huh?” said the main as my shadow covered him. “Can I help you missy?” His words were slurred and there was alcohol on his breath. He was an ugly, balding man. I found it hard to feel any compassion for him.

My hand tightened around the hilt of the knife. I felt sick. Could I really do something like this? But I didn’t have a choice, did I? I glanced toward Stacy. She was smiling softly at me, with eyes still faintly glowing. Her expression was unreadable.

“Hey, mister,” I asked the man, “You wouldn’t happen to have a family?”

The man laughed. “I’m taken, sorry. Have a lovely wife and daughter. If you’re in the market though I can introduce—!?” His words cut off and a look of horror filled his face. At first I was confused, but then I realized I was brandishing the knife in the air, as though I were about to stab him.

Surprised gasps and screams filled the room as people saw what I was doing. Time slowed to a crawl. Chairs fell over, and people either made for the exit or pulled out weapons of their own to confront me. But the man in front of me didn’t move. He was frozen in fear. It would be so easy to end his life.

But I couldn’t. I would sooner die than do something like that. Much sooner die.

And so the knife found its way into my heart.

A brisk autumn breeze caressed my cheeks. When I came to it was night, and we were in the forest. The bloodstained knife lay next to me, and Stacy sat over me, that unreadable look still on her face.

As the reality of what I’d done caught up to me a sharp pain began to bloom in my chest. I felt where I’d stabbed myself, and the wound was still there. If I was awake then the heart must have healed at least.

I tried to sit up, but it only made the pain worse.

“Don’t try to move,” Stacy told me with a concerned voice. “You’re not completely healed yet. I’m surprised you’re awake at all. Maybe you’re getting better at dealing with pain.”

“I couldn’t do it,” I said dejectedly, tears threatening to fill my eyes. I felt like I had failed Stacy.

“Silly girl,” she tapped my forehead with a finger. “That was the point. You passed. I figured you wouldn’t be capable of that. You really didn’t need to stab yourself though.”

“Sorry, I was… Disgusted with myself. Like I shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

Stacy put a finger on her tongue, encouraging a drop of saliva to gather. “Well, I’d like to convince you otherwise, but for now let’s do something about your pain.”

A drop of saliva landed on my wound, slowly lifting away the pain. I still couldn’t move, so I just stayed still and enjoyed the feeling Stacy always filled me with.

Nyanako

Sorry about the hiatus. I had been having a lot of trouble writing this chapter. Originally the idea was to have Stacy order Bridget to do something embarassing, but I couldn't write that in a way I was happy with. So I decided to change the direction a little. There might be more gaps in the future, but I've decided that I want to continue this story.