Zane

The clock was 03:15 when the silence was broken by a dull thud on the door, as doomed as a bird hitting glass.

I opened the door. Cold and the smell of blood blew into the hallway. He stood clutching his side. His jacket was torn, his fingers were stained crimson.

— Are you crazy? Get inside now. His weight almost knocked me over. He smelled of danger—gunpowder, steel, expensive perfume. Under the kitchen light, Zane looked alien: my sterility and his filthy life.

“To the hospital,” I reached for the phone.

He covered my wrist.

• No cops. Look at me, little one.

The word struck from the past.

“You’ll die on my floor,” I hissed, taking out my suitcase. “Why not with your own people?”

— Because you won't betray... Remember fifth grade and your bike? I'm here to fulfill my debt.

I tore my T-shirt off. It was a deep stab wound, bleeding heavily.

— Take off your jacket. And don't you dare pass out.

I injected the anesthesia. He looked at my hands.

• Shay... I trust only you. The needle entered - he jerked, grabbing my hand as a support.

— It hurts... You always hurt me. Even just by passing by.

• I'm saving you!

— I know. I just wanted to see that you were still pure... not like me.

He was too close.

“You’re in shock,” I whispered.

• No. I went into crime thinking I'd take you with me. Fool. You're life. And I'm a corpse.

He leaned back, closing his eyes.

• Keep sewing. I've belonged to you for a long time anyway.

(more bots in TGC: @digitaldarlingss)