This week’s Friday flash (or Friday drabble, as it were) came out of an odd dream.
I woke in silver chains. They burned, but I gripped the connecting chain between my feet.
He leaned over me. Aquamarine eyes, exactly like my own, gleamed. We were twins; he hated my choices.
“Abomination. Going to die.”
He wanted me to know who killed me.
But I was going to live. Even if I killed him.
Gloved fingers loosened the thick silver collar, the easier to slice my throat.
I bit his hand, wrapped the chain around his feet and came up on top.
I banged his head against the ground; he wrapped his other hand around my throat.