He drives the blade up into Maria’s chest, twisting it with vigour, and even though tears stream down his cheeks he allows a demented smile to slowly grow larger on his lips.
“How’s that for a FUCKING surprise then, BITCH?” He yells as he spits in Maria’s face, and thrusts her now lifeless body to the floor.
“Oh my god Peter, what have you done?” Cheryl yells as she rushes to Maria’s side, screaming in terror. “S-S-She didn’t FUCKING mean any of it that way! She just wanted you to back off! Just a little!”
His eyes tighten, and he hits down on his tongue ever so lightly. “Don’t bullshit me Cheryl, she meant it exactly how it sounded! I’ve been taking SHIT all my life, and I’ve developed a hard skin because of it. But she wanted to be clever about it. She wanted to not only be funny about it all, but she also wanted to hurt my feelings. That’s where she took it too far, and that why I had to punish her for it!”
“You could’ve done it in so many other ways. You didn’t need to kill her!” Cheryl screams as she rocks Maria’s silent form in her arms, a pool of blood growing beneath them.
“That’s where you’re wrong, killing her was the only option I had. Anything else would’ve encouraged others to do something similar, or worse, and that’s something I couldn’t have happening. If you’d lived your life the way I have, then you would understand.” He says as he slowly stares at the blood drip from the knife blade. “But you can’t, and you never will,” he adds as he looks up to meet her gaze.
“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO PETER? YOU GOING TO KILL ME TOO NOW? YOU GOING TO PUNISH ME AS WELL?” Cheryl yells as she launches herself to her feet and shapes up to him, in the process doing her best impression of Becky Lynch.
“If I have to!” Peter says as he stabs the knife at her quickly, but she easily outmanoeuvres his attack and thrusts him up shady the wall, pulling him arm back until the pain forces him to release the knife. As it drops to the floor she drives a knee into his back and forced him down to the ground. “You ain’t got to the strength or skill to do anything to me birdie,” she hisses in his ear.
He explodes with rage, trying to fight his way to his feet. But the more he fights, encourages her to dig her knee harder into his back.
“DON’T CALL ME THAT! DON’T CALL ME THAT!” He screams frantically.
“What’s wrong little bird, have I hurt your feelings? Have I made you angry? Does it make you want to hurt me? Good, be a hurt little birdie, it’ll make it so much easier to do this,” she says as she pulls back and his arms, causing him to scream louder. “I’m going to break both your little wings birdie, and then I’m going to leave you out her to die. Does that sound good to you?” She hisses as the ones in his arms start to snap under the pressure. She lets go of his now useless arms and gets to her feet. “You know birdie with all that screaming your pretty little voice has gotten a bit husky, pity it didn’t happen sooner, makes you sound dead sexy,” she says with a wry smile.