Love & Blood Pt 3

please read, rate, review, you know the drill. give me some tips for the ending.. cause it somehow doesn't feel right. anyway, i'll let you decide when you get there :P

Garth had long since left, leaving her feeling weak and helpless. Tears were running down her face, as she tried to concentrate on getting the ropes loose. Her wrists were burning, but she didn’t let the pain stop her. She had to get free; she knew she couldn’t stay here any longer. She’d end up dead, sucked dry. She wasn’t sure exactly why she wasn’t already.
The door opened, and someone entered, Nosferatu judging by the walk. He wrinkled his nose behind her.
“Piss yourself?” he said dispassionately. She didn’t respond, and he walked around in front of her, dumping a body on the ground.
“Who?” she choked on the rest of the sentence, looking up at the vampire, fear apparent in her eyes.
“A friend of mine,” Nosferatu smiled crookedly, running a finger down her cheek before leaving.
She looked towards the person lying on the ground. It was a guy, muscled, with longish, blonde hair, and a good-looking, square face.
She felt fear clawing at her insides. Why wasn’t he tied up too? Not that she wanted him to be… She shook her head in irritation. Who cared? She turned her attention back to the ropes, pulling against them, pushing her aching arms backwards and forwards. Her wrists started to bleed, rubbed raw in her desperation.
“Why won’t it work?” she hissed at the darkness in anger. “Fucking hell! Break!” She shook her whole body, and the chair swayed, feet hitting the floor hard, jarring her. Hanging her head, she breathed heavily, exhausted and sore.
She heard a low groan at the other end of the room, and the boy sat up, rubbing his head and looking around. His eyes locked on hers, and his mouth dropped open.
“What? Where am I?” he stammered, staring at her. She wondered how feral she looked, bloody and soiled as she was.
“Help me,” she said desperately. “Untie me!”
The boy stood, making no move to help her as he went around behind her and tried the door, cursing as he found it locked.
“Where am I?” he asked again, standing in front of her.
“I don’t know,” she said, surprised. She hadn’t even thought about it. “Just help me!”
“Why? Why are you there?”
She hung her head. “Because it’s easier for them this way. Or him.”
“What?”
“Garth and Nosferatu.” The boy stiffened.
“Nosferatu? Damn! That little… One night!”
“What?” It was her turn to be confused.
The boy merely shook his head, running nervous fingers through his hair, grey eyes darting around the room. He spotted the window, and crossed over to it, throwing back the curtains and cursing.
“Two storeys,” he groaned, turning back to look at Gwen. “What’s your name?” he barked. She sighed, giving up.
“Gwen.”
“Gwen… Brookes?”
She nodded, surprised.
“Wow. You’ve been on the news like, every night, ‘cause of the murder of that lady… something Moore, and her son disappearing and all. You were close to him, right?”
She nodded again. “That’s Garth.”
“Oh,” he said.
“Who are you, by the way?”
“Connor Hardy,” he said, and they fell silent.
“So, you gonna untie me now, or what?”
He looked wary. “What if you’re really one of them? It might be fun for you to betray my trust. Why wouldn’t he tie me up, too, if he didn’t want you to escape?”
“I don’t know! Who knows anything with those psychos’?”
At that moment the door opened, and Nosferatu entered, smiling.
“The fun begins,” he said, smile widening as Connor shrank away from him. He turned to Gwen, then glanced back at Connor. “Not very gentlemanly, Connor.” He fiddled with the ropes binding Gwen to the chair, and finally, she was free. She sat there for a minute in shock before getting up. Nos laughed at her obvious surprise.
“You can’t play the game sitting down,” he said, slightly sarcastically. She shivered.
“What are you talking about?”
Nosferatu stepped aside, gesturing at the door. “Run,” he growled. “Run, and if you run fast enough, you might just win.”
Gwen stared at him, taking a step towards the open door, and the hope of freedom. Nos grinned.
“Go on. Run,” he said. Connor suddenly swept through, grabbing her arm and tugging her towards the door. Together, they descended the stairs quickly, into a huge hall, hurrying towards the end door, bursting through it into the open, running down the gravel.
This isn’t going to end well, Gwen thought, gritting her teeth and trying to squash the pessimistic thought.

Garth walked up the stairs slowly, in no hurry. The anticipation was building in him, but he enjoyed the release enough to let it grow to almost ? size.
He opened the door and gave a roar of rage. The chair was empty, the window open. He looked out, and cursed when he saw no sign of her.
“I thought,” Nosferatu’s calm voice came from behind him, making him turn, “that we might play a little game tonight. I brought along one of my friends, and now…” he gestured to the empty room and smiled. “The game is on. Ever gone hunting?”
Garth grinned without a trace of humour. “No. But I want to.”
“Good.”

The road came to an abrupt end. They stopped uncertainly.
“We can’t go back that way; let’s keep going forwards, and hope to hell we reach a farmhouse or something. We will, I bet,” Connor said. She nodded, not in the mood for an argument, and agreeing with him, even though she knew it was probably stupid to leave the road.

Gwen’s breath came in burning gasps. Her head was light, yet somehow heavy at the same time, and she felt slightly dizzy. Slowing to a walk, she leaned against a tree.
“What?” Connor groaned, staring out into the blackness of the night.
“I,” she sucked in air. “I can’t run anymore.”
“You have to!” he said. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes as her vision spun.
“I can’t.”
Connor clicked his tongue in frustration. “They’ll find us!”
She rubbed her head and took a few steps. The dizzy spell had passed, although her head still felt odd, and she kept walking. Conner seemed anxious beside her.
“Are you OK?” he asked as she stumbled.
“Yeah, tree root,” she panted.
He was silent for a minute. “How long since you’ve eaten, or drunk?”
“Erm, eaten God only knows. I had a drink earlier today,” she replied, hair on the back of her neck standing up at the thought of Garth.
Connor nodded. “OK then.”
At that moment, a voice rang out between the trees. “I see you,” it hissed. “Run.” Connor whirled around, taking a few tottering steps before turning again and starting to sprint. A dark shape sprang out of the trees, barrelling into him and knocking him to the ground, pinning him easily.
One, where’s the other one? she thought desperately as Connor started to yell. She leapt forwards, aiming a kick at the vampires head, connecting with it solidly and knocking it off balance. Connor scrambled upwards, but it was already recovered and jumped at him, wrapping its legs around his waist and sinking its fangs into his neck. He roared, grabbing the vampires head and attempting to push it off of him, as Gwen grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground. The vampire clung to Connor, and she bashed it in the back, causing it to scream. Connor managed to get it off as its concentration was broken, and she bashed the stick against its ribs again.
“Bitch!” the vampire growled, on its feet in the blink of an eye. It was Nosferatu, and she wondered vaguely where Garth was. But she didn’t really care, in that second. Garth wasn’t here at the moment, Nosferatu was. He was the problem now, not Garth.
She held the branch in front of her, trying her best not to tremble. Connor was busy holding his neck, shocked look in his eyes. He wasn’t even moving to help!
“You’ll pay for that,” Nos snarled, back hunched menacingly. Then he suddenly straightened up, licking blood from his lips and wiping back his comb-over emo-hair. “Although it does make everything more interesting,” he said as an afterthought, smiling lopsidedly, darting forwards. She swung the stick but he grabbed it, pushing it out to their side as he stepped closer to her. Moving backwards, she let go of her weapon and crouched quickly to grab at another one. It was a lot thinner, and broke as she lashed out at his knees with it. Nos laughed, then staggered forwards as Connor’s fist smashed into the back of his head. He whirled around with a groan.
“Where the fuck is he?” he muttered, eyes flashing a sudden red in the gloom. “Ah, there.”
An arm circled around Gwen’s neck, lifting her feet from the ground, holding her, choking, in the air. She kicked her legs, struggling to breathe.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Garth whispered in her ear as her vision started to cloud. There wasn’t enough air…
Then he dropped her. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she lay gasping on the ground. She heard footsteps fading into the darkness and looked up at an amused chuckle from Nosferatu.
“So, he thinks he can run?” Connor was nowhere to be seen, and she felt a small sense of betrayal at the knowledge he had run, left her to her fate.
I hope it comes soon, she thought.
Garth rolled her onto her back, and despite her earlier thoughts, she resisted weakly, not prepared to let him have full control whilst there was still a sliver of hope. Where the sliver was, she wasn’t sure, but she could feel it there.
With both hands, she pushed against his chest, keeping him up off her. He smiled down at her, grabbing her arms and moving them up over her head so that he was lying full-length on top of her. She tensed in anticipation of him biting her neck, before he started to talk, still staring down at her.
“Why did you run from me?” he said softly, ‘from’ laced with undertones of sadness.
A new fear gripped her. This wasn’t how it went. She said nothing.
“Why?!” he roared, spit hitting her face. His features were grossly distorted with his anger, fangs longer than they had ever been, eyes glinting red. Her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth; what could she say? What explanation wouldn’t anger him further?
“Why?” he shouted again, giving a growl when she said nothing, standing and turning his back to her. She laid on the ground, stunned.
“The game,” she said, but her answer obviously wasn’t a good one.
“Get up,” he growled, not looking at her. She complied without thinking, taking a few steps away from him. He suddenly whirled around, striking her on the face, sending her crashing to the ground. Without waiting for her to recover, he grabbed her by the throat and hauled her up, shoving her into a tree and pinning her there. Luckily, her feet were still on the ground. His fist came back, and he pummelled her in the stomach, letting her go and snorting as she fell to the ground, curling around her belly.
“I would have done anything for you. I loved you with all my heart. You threw that back in my face,” he said, crouching by her. She turned her face away, feeling tears smarting in her eyes. “Have you ever felt anything like that?”
“Yes,” she said into the earth, remembering how it felt as though her innards had been ripped from her after Garth’s first attack.
“Well, you’ll know then, how much I hate you right now.” He sighed, grabbing her hair and pulling her head around so that she had to look at him. “But I still love you. Make sense? I’m not going to kill you; I couldn’t.”
“Why not? You killed your mother! Why not me?”
Garth merely shook his head, as if he didn’t have the answer. His eyes were now glowing red with anger.
“Do you want to die?”
“Yes! I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life with you!”
Garth looked stunned. He turned away from her again, then whirled around, kicked her full in the face, knocking her out cold.
“Let’s go catch the other one,” he said, voice shaking.
“Won’t she just run when she awakes?” Nos said hesitantly. Garth swore under his breath, then stomped on Gwen’s ankle. A sickly crack sounded through the night.
“I don’t think so,” Garth said. Nos shrugged, and they melted into the shadows.

Gwen’s head hurt. A lot. She tried to move, and blinding pain shot from her ankle upwards, gripping her whole leg in a vice of hurt. The darkness was deeper than before, making it hard to see her hand in front of her face. Shifting into a sitting position, trying not to move her ankle, she grimaced as it twinged, groping downwards to inspect the damage. Her foot was twisted at an odd angle, swollen and extremely tender.
“That sick bastard!” she gasped as she realised what had happened; he’d broken it so that she couldn’t go anywhere. Tears started to leak from her eyes. She angrily tried to blink them away; they wouldn’t help, but they kept coming. Her breathing was irregular, and hurt like hell.
“Think!” she groaned to herself, starting as she heard a scream sound from somewhere in the night. “Connor!”
She shook her head. There was nothing she could do for him, she had to concentrate on helping herself.
Experimentally, she moved her ankle, gritting her teeth to stop herself from crying out, and waited for the pain to fade to a dull ache before looking around. Pulling herself towards a tree, she grabbed at the rough bark, hauling herself up, doing her best to ignore her head, stomach and ankle. She guessed she was lucky her skull hadn’t cracked, if he could break her ankle. Or maybe it was. She drew in a sharp breath, hopping towards another tree less than a metre away. Small steps…
She landed on a rock and fell, instinctively putting out her other foot to steady herself. She screamed as her ankle protested, falling down, head hitting the ground and making her scream again. Breathing heavily, she put her head in her hands.
Crawl, she found herself thinking. Reaching out, she grabbed at the earth, sliding her body along, stopping as the pain in her head threatened to make her faint.
Shit. She gasped, clinging to consciousness by a thread. C’mon, don’t give up now. You can make it. Go, crawl!
She reached out again, dragging herself forwards perhaps half-a-metre, pausing momentarily to catch her breath.
That’s it, keep going! She didn’t bother wondering where.

Garth felt sick as Connor went down on his knees, sobbing and wiping snot from his face.
“Please, please, don’t kill me! I won’t try and get away again, please! Please!” the boy’s voice was high-pitched with fear, and sounded more like screaming than words.
Nosferatu arched an eyebrow gracefully. “Garth is the merciful one, Connor. Not me.”
Connor turned his tear-streaked face upwards to appeal to Garth. “Please, Garth, please! Please, don’t let him kill me!” He broke off, then said, “Gwen wouldn’t be happy if you did that.”
He was trying to expose Garth’s weakness, but it didn’t work.
“Why? Does she care about you?” Garth growled.
“Y-y-yes,” Connor stammered, realising his mistake as Garth smiled.
“So, you’re the reason she won’t love me?” he roared. Connor shook his head frantically.
“No!” he howled. “She hates me!”
Garth leapt at the boy, tearing at his throat in a frenzy. Gone were the small, neat slits or puncture marks. He was biting into the boy’s throat with the ferocity of a lion, Nos right beside him. Together, they ripped his throat to shreds, his body twitching beneath them, before Garth began to gnaw at his arms too, gorging himself on scraps of flesh and blood. His sank his long claws into the boy’s still-warm chest, ripping open his stomach and smiling as he felt hot guts beneath is fingertips. Gone was the competition, now perhaps Gwen would love him again. Once she saw how far his love went, she would be sure to reciprocate it.

Gwen drew in a shaky breath. Her strength was all but gone now; evaporated out into the cold night air. She wasn’t sure how far she’d gone, but it wasn’t far enough. Maybe she hadn’t even moved a metre; she wouldn’t have been terribly surprised. Gasping, she struggled to make her body obey her.
“Move!” she tried to say, but it came out as a broken whisper. Her fingers clutched at a tuft of grass and attempted to pull her forwards, but they had no help from her biceps, which seemed to have turned to mush with the strain of the night. Her stomach was cramping up, and was cut from the small rocks on the ground. But she wouldn’t give up.
I’m not dying here, she thought, as she had many times before, dismayed by the weakness in that thought. Gone was the power-lending effect of it, now all it was just a meaningless mantra, something to save her from boredom.
“No! No, no no!” she groaned as her fingers lost their grip. The world was spinning around her. “No…” She slipped unwillingly into further darkness.

Garth looked around the tiny, dumping Connor’s mutilated body at his feet. “Where is she?” he said in astonishment. He knew he had left her here, he was positive. Yet she was gone…
“Help me look,” he snapped at Nos who clicked his tongue, looking weary.
“The sun will be up soon. I’m not looking in daylight. I’m sleeping.”
Garth rounded on him. “Look till dawn then.”
Nos folded his arms, glaring at him. “You don’t run the joint, Garth. We’ll find her tomorrow night. For now, can’t we just go sleep?”
Garth shook his head furiously, but Nos just shrugged. “Suit yourself.” With that he turned and waked away, in the direction of the house.
“Nos!” Garth shouted angrily, but the boy didn’t turn. He groaned to himself, looking down and kicking the body at his feet, lips twisting as it gave a sort of sickly squelch, a tiny amount of blood dribbling from the open, gaping hole that had once been Connor’s mouth. He smiled, remembering a quote from Shakespeare he had once read.
“’They do not love who do not show their love,’” he said. “And ‘the course of true love never did run smooth.’”

Gwen pushed herself upwards shakily. It was getting light, and she was amazed to find that she was still, to all intents and purposes, ‘free.’ She coughed suddenly, and blood splattered onto the ground. She stared at it. It seemed all she had seen for a long time now had been blood.
Coughing up blood meant internal bleeding, but somehow, she found that it didn’t worry her. She felt almost detached from it.
Groping her way forwards again, she refused to give in to the dizzy spells that took her every time she pulled forwards.
Keep going, keep going… She came to a barbed wire fence around midday and crawled under it, not noticing that she was going upwards on dirt. Her hand hit something hot, and she recoiled, blinking so that she might see clearly. She smiled slightly as she saw that it was a road, and a bitumen one at that. That meant cars. Cars meant help.
He’s out there somewhere. A treacherous thought entered her mind. It’s like Wolf Creek. He’s out there. She sighed and rolled onto her back to let her stomach have a rest. It was torn, grazed painfully, but still not as painfully as inside.
Wolf Creek… Why did I think of that? Breathing heavily, the sun beat down on her, making her sweat and long for a drink. But there was nothing to soothe her parched throat, or satisfy her swollen tongue. Somebody had better come along soon.

Garth paced inside the house, silently fuming. Where was she? Finally, about noon, he could take it no longer. He got up, and put on a hooded jacket, with sunglasses, stepping out into the sunlight. He would find her. He would show her his undying love.

She didn’t feel as though she’d slept, but the light seemed different, and people were moving by her head. A car was parked a little way off, and she hadn’t seen it come, so she must have been asleep.
“She’s awake!” a man leaned over her, squeezing her hand comfortingly. He looked about thirty, with kind blue eyes and a natural smile. A woman appeared behind him. She looked his age, but her smile was false. She looked scared as hell, and Gwen could only imagine how bad she must look.
The man rested his hand on her forehead. “What’s your name, honey?”
She tried to swallow, but there was nothing in her mouth. Her voice cracked as she said, “Gwen.”
“My names Ryan and this is Kerry,” he said softly. “Don’t worry; we’re getting some people down here to help you.”
“Who?”
“The ambulance. They should be here soon.”
She relaxed. The ambulance.
“Hey, get away from her!” a voice shouted. Ryan looked up, and Gwen felt fear grip her again. She tried to move, but she couldn’t.
“Who’re you?” Ryan said, voice shaking. Kerry gripped his shoulders tightly, face pale, as if she were about to be sick. And then she was.
“I am Gwen’s boyfriend,” Garth said with a twisted grin.
“What the hell’s that?” Ryan asked, horrified as he stood, fists clenched. For a minute, she thought he was seriously asking what a boyfriend was. Finally, Gwen managed to move, clawing her way up into a sitting position, and saw it. She screamed, sound tearing through her head.
“Is that-?” she yelled.
Garth nodded slowly, dumping the bloodied, misshapen mess at his feet. “Connor. You loved him, I know. And he loved you. But, you also love me. I can understand; you were too afraid to hurt Connor’s feelings. He was a little crazy.”
“He-” she choked on her own words, feeling oddly like laughing.
“But this proves which one of us was better. I’m the one who’ll fight for you Gwen. I’m the one that truly loves you.”
She shook her head, wishing she could get up and run. Her eyes remained on Connor’s body, now completely unrecognisable. Chunks had been ripped out of his arms and legs, his jaw was broken so his mouth hung open, one eye ripped out. His cheeks had been slashed to resemble a grin, and his neck was little more than bone with shreds of flesh dangling from it.
“No,” she said. “No, just leave me alone. If you love me, leave me alone!”
“I can’t do that, Gwen. It’d hurt us both too much.” Garth took a step forwards, over the body, and Ryan stood protectively in front of Gwen and Kerry.
“Stay away from us, you freak!”
Garth looked hurt. “I am no freak,” he said.
Gwen found herself holding her breath, waiting for Garth to leap at Ryan. All they had to do was stall him until the ambulance arrived…
Her head was swimming again. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be helpless on the ground and see another person suffer the same fate as Connor.
“Look, person,” Garth said, affecting to sound snobbish. “I have no interest in you; I just want to take Gwen home. You could end up like Connor here.” He gestured behind himself.
Kerry started to tremble, and Gwen felt horribly guilty. She should have known she’d never escape, so what was the point in trying?
“See, Gwen? I’m fighting for you.”
“No, Garth, you aren’t,” Gwen said weakly. “If you were fighting for me, you’d be you instead of this monster.”
Garth chuckled uncertainly, spreading his arms wide. “This is me.”
“No it’s not. Come back. You wanted me to be an anchor, here I am. I care about you, not the monster.”
Garth cocked his head, saying quietly, “This is me.”
“No! You’re not the guy I loved,” a sob caught in her throat. There, it was out in the open, not that he’d appreciate it now.
“This is me,” Garth said again.
“No.”
“Yes, it is!” Garth roared. There was no uncertainty, no hesitating. There would be no coming down for Garth. “It’s me! As I have always been! You love me, I love you! There is nothing else! No hidden Garth; I am he! This is me, and that is you! We love each other! That is all we need to know!”
Ryan and Kerry were staring between the two of them. Gwen felt embarrassed by her tears, and stared at the ground.
“You two,” Garth growled, “get out of the way. You have meddled enough.”
“If you loved her-” Ryan began, but she cut him off.
“No, do what he says,” she said wearily. “Just leave, before he does something I’ll regret. I’m not trying to be a hero, but this way he won’t kill you.”
Ryan looked at her, shaking his head. Kerry tugged on his arm, tears running down her face.
“Ryan, please,” she said, “move.” He finally capitulated as Garth stared solemnly at him, and moved backwards.
Where’s the ambulance? she thought as Garth moved closer to her. He glanced mistrustfully at Ryan before brushing back her hair and cupping her cheek in his palm.
“I love you,” he said, seemingly overcome with emotion. “I’m sorry about last night. It wasn’t enjoyable for either of us.”
She didn’t trust herself to look at him.
“But you shouldn’t have run. We could have worked through it. Things weren’t that bad.”
She still didn’t look at him, not saying a word. His gaze travelled downwards to her stomach, cut and bruised as it was. Eyes gleaming, he scratched at a cut with a fingernail, smiling as she groaned, fresh blood leaking out. She dared glance up at Ryan, who looked furious and horrified, and then at Kerry, who had her face buried in Ryan’s shoulder.
They have to get here soon, she thought desperately, as Garth brought his blood-stained finger to his mouth. Soon.
“I’m sorry about your ankle,” he whispered. “It was necessary though. You were making the biggest mistake of your life, trying to run…”
She was beginning to see the truth in his words. How could she hope to live normally again, after all this? He looked up at the two people standing close by.
“You can go now,” he said. Ryan nodded slowly, walking back to his car and opening the door to hop in the driver’s seat.
“Actually, Kerry, you drive,” he said.
“I can’t-” Kerry began, but was cut off by a look from Ryan. She hopped in the car, and he reached under the seat, pulling out a baseball bat before slamming the door closed.
“If he kills me, drive!” he shouted, swinging the bat at Garth’s head. It connected solidly, knocking the boy from her. “Get to the car!” Ryan shouted. She tried to obey, but her whole body was giving up on her. She coughed up more blood, which just served to add to Garth’s frenzy. He gave an inhuman screech, leaping at Ryan. The man staggered, and the bat flew from his grasp, splitting on a rock. Garth dove for him again, and Ryan ducked out of the way, slamming a fist into the boys face, picking up the bat and swinging it, breaking it over Garth’s ribs. But it did nothing to slow him down. Garth grabbed Ryan’s wrist, twisting it till he dropped the remains of the bat, then bit into his neck. Ryan bucked and twisted, falling to the ground as he managed to loosen Garth’s grip.
Gwen looked at them fighting, then at the broken bat on the ground.
A wooden stake will work on anyone, if you can get it through them… Nosferatu’s words floated back to her. She dragged her bum along the ground, gritting her teeth against the rising darkness, body bucking and coughing up more blood. Reaching out, she grasped the wood firmly. Now she had to stand… But she couldn’t. A new plan formed.
“Garth!” she cried. He had kneed Ryan hard in the groin, and was about to take his fill when she called. He looked around.
“Yes, love?” he said. She bared her stomach, stretching back her neck, hating what she was going to say.
“I’m much tastier.”
Garth smiled, and strode towards her, calmly. She lay back, knowing she had a second to pull this off. He flopped down, and as he did so, she brought the short, broken bat up in front of her. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Oh,” he said, rolling off of her and looking at his stomach. His own strength had driven the bat into him.
“Bitch!” he cried, reaching for her. She strained away from his groping hand, and his face twisted in anger. “Bitch! I loved you!” He tore out the makeshift stake, and she saw into his stomach, an organ pulsing gently. Then his fist hit the side of her head, she went down, stars behind her eyes. He jumped on top of her, sinking his fangs into her neck. She screamed with the pain, and he looked up from his meal. Her blood spilled to the earth.
“We’ll be together in heaven, now.” He continued to feast upon her. She tried to push him off, tried to resist, but as with countless other times, she couldn’t. It felt as if he were crushing her, then all the pain left, pushing her into the darkness as it did so. She didn’t care; darkness was preferable to the light.

Garth felt his life draining away as he feasted. He knew it was the end, but, he thought, if I’m eating, drinking, I can’t die. I’ll be strong again. Suddenly, he sealed his entry points and rolled off Gwen, holding his stomach. He was coming down. He coughed, and blood came up, just as with Gwen.
Ironic, he thought. At least none of my blood got into her.
He stared up at the sky, and waited for death. It would be a blessing and a pity. Gwen would be… No, he thought, shaking his head. Gwen won’t care. I’ve done too many bad things to her. It’s better this way. I can’t hurt her again.
You fool! She loved me, you, US.
No, she didn’t. I loved her. That’s it. We can’t kid ourselves anymore. Wait, you can’t kid yourself anymore. You aren’t me. You’re the monster.
There is no monster. Just you.
No! In my death, the monster dies too. I am glad.
He pushed himself up onto an elbow, to see Ryan watching him wearily, a tight grip on the bat.
“Tell her,” he said, “tell her I’m sorry. That her anchor did work, it just took a little time. Tell her the monster’s gone, and that she did the right thing.” He coughed again, slumping back with a small grin.
Such drama, he thought, and then he was gone, a faint smile on his face.