Blood Rush

The first time she felt the rush of it, it was an accident. She had been out at a club⸺drinking, dancing, shouting, and participating in general debauchery⸺until they kicked her out at 2am. She still had the sense to laugh and thank the security for their work before stumbling out. Her favorite club was just a little ways from Camden. Singing Avril Lavigne as she strolled home, friends safely on the tube on their way to zones 3-6, she had not a care in the world. That is until a group of men cat-called at her. Being the prepared woman she was, Sheryll pulled the switch blade she carried around out of her purse.

“Hey there, pretty lady!” one slurred.

“Lick me where I pee!” shouted another.

“Give us a smile!” the third one spat.

She ducked her head, attempting to hide her face with her hair, as her heels clacked faster in fear. One of them grabbed her and before anyone noticed she had a knife, they were upon her. The first one got so far as to grab her shoulders before he was stabbed in the gut, and being as drunk as he was only realized he was bleeding out when she plunged it into another’s chest. The third one had been pulling his dick out when she almost cut it off.

“Fucking cunt!” the one stabbed in the chest wheezed out.

“Holy fuck!” said the one Sheryll had almost castrated.

“Help!” both her and the one bleeding from the stomach screamed.

Sheryll quickly dropped the knife on the ground. Tears streaming down her cheeks, ruining her already messed up makeup. The one she had stabbed in the chest had collapsed as the blood pooled around his body. She realized the warmth of blood on her hands was mildly comforting, as if it was thanking her for its release from the scumbag of a man. It was kind of beautiful, Sheryll thought to herself as her endorphins and adrenaline ran at an all time high, giving her a feeling of euphoria. The police had arrived just in time to see the light fade from the  eyes of the nearly gutted cow. They could save the one with injured genitals at least. 

CCTV had picked up the footage of everything that happened that night. She got off with the argument of self defense and was intrigued rather than terrified when she thought to herself I need to feel that rush again…

About the Author

Erica Bentley is a senior English major who hopes to pursue her passions in writing and spends her time reading and being existential.