Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Death’s eyes flicker. “I will deal with Marek once I’ve dealt with you. Nobody will take my life from me again.”
“I thought of you as a father,” I say, taking another step. “I know you always had her back, but I truly thought you had some compassion in your heart for me. Turns out I was wrong.”
His eyes flash with something I can’t quite make out, I would almost say hurt and possibly fear, but there is no way that Death is afraid. Nothing scares him. Nothing.
“There is only one person in this world I love, and you took her from me. You were nothing. You are nothing.”
His words hurt more than I ever expected they would.
“All this time, I was just a thorn in your side, wasn’t I?”
He shrugs. “I dealt with you because I had no other choice, but if I could have chosen, I would have had you removed a long time ago. Our lives were better without you in them.”
He can’t possibly mean all these things.
Tears sting my eyelids as I shake my head. “Why are you saying all of this?”
“Because you took her from me, and she was all I ever wanted in this life.”
Of course, she was. People always love monsters. I turn my head away, letting my rage build deep in my chest. It’s the only way I can handle the hurt. If I’m angry, then it doesn’t feel as though someone has stuck their hand inside my chest and ripped my damned heart out.
“Well, it’s a shame that she’s nothing more than fucking fish food now.”
My words are horrible, and I know they’ll hurt.
That’s the point.
He lunges for me. I dodge him and scramble forward, just about making it to the door when the gun goes off. Burning pain shoots through my foot as I collapse onto the ground with a bellow. Agony rips through my leg as my mind frantically begs me to move before he takes another shot. A big hand curls around my ankle and he drags me towards him.
Kicking and thrashing, I manage to release my ankle and I use my other foot to kick him as hard as I can. I don’t know how I do it because the pain is unbearable, but I don’t want to die and that’s enough to spur me on. Somehow, I manage to hit him right where I want, and with a bellow of pain, the gun flies from his hand. Blood pouring from my foot and soaking the faded yellow carpet, I get up and hop for the gun. Death reaches for me, but he’s not quick enough to get me in time.
I reach down, curling my fingers around the gun. Spinning toward him, my foot gives way and I fall to the ground, but I don’t let it go. The cold steel in my palm is a reminder that I’ve got the upper hand. Death pushes to his feet, walking towards me, his eyes emotionless. Looming over me, his big body is massive as he stares down at me. My hands shake, but I don’t lower the weapon, I keep it aimed at his chest.
“You’ll never be the woman she was. You don’t have it in you to rule. She was a queen and you, child, are nothing more than a peasant.”
His words hit me, blow after blow.
“It won’t matter what you say to me, you’ll never break what I built up. In the end, I am the one laughing because I was the only person she never suspected would take her life. I dethroned the queen.”
Death bares his teeth and growls, “Go on then, child. Shoot me.”
My hands shake, my blood soaks the floor. I can’t feel the pain in my foot, but judging by how much I’m bleeding, I know it’s a good shot. If I lower this gun, though, he will end me. Yet, staring up at him, I’m finding it hard to pull the trigger. It’s not like I haven’t done it before, so why does it feel so awful to do it now?
Why do I care at all?
He has made it clear he doesn’t care about me.
“Go on,” he laughs, bitterly. “Shoot me.”
Tears burst forth and roll down my cheeks, and I’m unable to stop them. Looking up at him, my heart slams against my ribcage as I desperately wish this moment away. I want it to stop, I want him to leave and never return, I don’t want his blood on my hands.
“I don’t...” I choke out.
“Don’t fall weak now, child,” He growls. “I raised you better. Now pull the fucking trigger.”
He lowers down like he’s going to reach for me, and my instinct kicks in.
I pull the trigger.
The gun goes off with a bang so loud my ears ring. Terrified to open my eyes, I sit for a moment, panting, sweat trickling down my forehead. I don’t want to see what I’ve done. I don’t want to face it. I sit, motionless, for a long moment before finally letting my eyes open. Death lays on the ground, blood flowing from a wound in his chest. He’s gasping for air, and pain immediately slams into me.