A Killing Rage

         Victoria sat at the table, staring at her manicured french-tip nails, trying her best to ignore the witch in front of her. She looked around the coffee shop, wondering if anyone was having as weird a conversation as her, if their world had come tumbling down around them like hers had.
         "You can't ignore us forever," Tatianna said. Victoria looked up into the woman's emerald colored eyes, wondering how she had lost every shred of humanity in the three hundred years she'd existed.
         Victoria looked away, prevented herself from saying anything by taking a sip of coffee. It was true, she couldn't ignore her forever, but it had worked for the past fifty years.
         "I won't do it."Tatianna smirked, and Victoria was struck by how pretty she was. With her long golden curls flowing down her back and bright green eyes she could have been a supermodel if she hadn't turned to the craft. Now she'd rather torture and kill humans than entertain them.
         "We both know what you are, and from who's line you come from. Killing humans is in your blood."
         Victoria opened her mouth to object but shut it quickly; images of all the blood she'd shed for her sister flashed through her mind. All the screaming and begging rang in her ears and she shook her head to erase the memories.
         "That was then," she said, "I'm not like that anymore. I don't kill for fun."
Tatianna shrugged. "That is your choice, of course." She paused, then added,                                   "How's Brian?"
         Victoria felt her heart stop. "Leave him out of this."
         "How would he feel if he knew the hundreds of people you had tortured and killed? Somehow I don't think he loves you that much to overlook that tiny little detail."
         Victoria glared at her sister and felt the first stirrings of the killing rage she hadn't embraced in so long.
         "Fine," she said. "I'll do it. But after this don't threaten me ever again."
         Tatianna smiled and sent shivers up Victoria's spine. She wore that smile when she was at her most dangerous.
         "I knew you'd see things my way."
 
         Victoria hid outside the target's house that night, hidden by the night. She wrapped the shadows around her and waited for him to get home. He always arrived home from work at the same time each night. Every time she felt bad about kidnaping him she reminded herself about Brian and how she wanted to keep her life with him.
         Headlights flashed as the truck pulled into the driveway and her heart jumped, adrenaline flowing through her veins.
         The man got out of his truck, wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. She could smell his sweat and wrinkled her nose. As he neared the front door she tailed him, still wearing her cloak of darkness. Right as his key entered the lock on the door she grabbed him, knocking him out with her magic. He sagged in her arms and she lifted him into a fireman's carry; her witch blood made her ten times stronger than the average human. She transported the two of them to her sister's house, which was located just outside Lacuna boundaries, the only paranormal city in midwest. Tatianna grinned as Victoria dumped the unconscious victim on the floor.
         "I kept my end of the bargain," she said, her voice hard and cold as steel in winter. "I expect you to do the same."
         Tatianna laughed. "You know that witches are only as good as their word."
 
         A couple days later Victoria and Brian were eating breakfast; she listened to the radio playing country songs as he read the paper.
         "Oh no," he said.
         "What's wrong?" Victoria took a sip of orange juice, unprepared for what he was about to say.
         "Mike's missing."
         She swallowed the juice, which tumbled like stones down her throat. "Who's that?" she asked, fearing the worst.
         "My boss. He disappeared a couple days ago; we just assumed he was sick. They found his body yesterday. Someone tortured him to death."
         Victoria sighed, guilt settling on her shoulders, making her uncomfortable in her skin.
         He continued to read from the article. "Apparently the killer cut 'not the last, sister' into his torso.'"
         Victoria closed her eyes, realizing the deal she had made with the devil. She opened them with her old friend rage burning inside her. It definitely wasn't the last person that would die; her sister was next on the list.
         Tatianna's blood would be the last to spill.