What Time? The NightTime PT 4 END

getting caught was the easy part.
"You're the one everyone wants?" The drug lord clicked his tongue, "You're sweet enough I suppose. I too thin for my liking."
Too strong you mean bastard, I mentally interrupted.
"But yes, you have a pleasant face."
I kept my plasant face impassive. It was hard, I'd never suffered fools lightly.
Such was his arrogance he kept his acquisitions on display chained to the floor like panther women. I scanned the room. As I expected he had tons of soldiers stationed around the property, frankly that was fine. What I had in mind depended on my ability to concentrate.
My eyes fell on a curvaceous woman with forlorn green eyes and light coloured hair. Judging from the description the goat farmer had given me I felt certain this was his wife, her unusual colouring belonging to her ethnic minority background. I could easily see why she would be taken by the bloated cunt who considered himself god, she was lovely and exotic in a familiar way. The soldier to my left shifted his weight away from me then closer again. He was frightened of me but unsure if he should've stayed close or been more wary. It didn't matter.
Blood magic is one of the oldest forms, typically sacrificial.
The fat cunt boasted he schemes to use me in his power play with Miguel.
Too bad he's dead, the cock sucker.
The razor blade in my clutched hand was minuscule, sharp. Because of the soldiers fear they failed to frisk or hand cuff me.
I focused on the wisp of energy.
Such a tenuous hold!
I cut deeply into my side, the basis of the spell. I visualised a thin red ribbon trailing from my wound through the soldiers necks. Then, slightly thicker, I expand and expand it. It felt slow to me, lazy almost. The more arteries bled the stronger the hold on it became. Exhausted to my last breath I had to let it go.
Finished, heavy, it had become a noose around my neck.
The women acted swiftly, the messenger had got the word to them.
I picked up the gun from a marble white soldier who didn't need it any more. Shooting rounds into the floor I pushed the guns nozzle into my side to cauterise my injury.
I shrieked and laid down.
The farmers wife came to me, "Bless you angel."
Weakly I gasped "Just repaying a debt. Go, they're waiting."
I gently folded my wings over to cocoon myself. Not even HE could break this barrier. I fell asleep.
"Mother..."

The former Assistant laughed over the cooling body. He admired himself in the mirror, posing with the bloody knife.
He thought how much the colour green suited him better.

End.