The droplets of water sinking to the ground were my only companions if I did not count the voices in my head, which I was still desperately trying not to.
You were a mistake.
An awful, terrible, consuming disease, breathing the air of those I had betrayed.
My chest hurt. It ached to know the pain I had caused, even if I did not have control over my actions.
I tortured Eva.
I let her believe Matthew and Kalen were dead.
And gods, I’dkilledErina.
I lived that moment repeatedly in my mind. The first moment I had seen clearly in months, and it was with blood on my hands. I saw it every single time I let my eyes drift closed, willing the gods for a moment of peace.
I heard the screams of those around me.
I heard the sound of a knife piercing flesh.
I felt the slick heat of blood cascading down my body. Blood that was not mine.
And I saw what I had done. The life I had taken. The lives I had destroyed. All of it. There was not a way to forget, especially within the dark, dank walls of this cell that had become my home.
It was a never-ending nightmare.
Time ceased to mean anything. I did not know how much of it had passed since they put me down here. And with each solitary moment, the voices in my head grew louder until they were an ear-shattering roar.
Either Renai or Kalen visited me once a day, usually providing some kind of food and water. I often pushed the food away, but they made sure to force the water down my throat. They had attempted no interrogation, but I didn’t miss their rage-filled glances. Their eyes bore into the back of my skull, encouraging the voices to hammer out insults faster than I could shut them down.
You’re worthless.
Eva will kill you when she finally deigns you important enough to visit.
You deserve to rot.
No one loves you.
No one cares if you die.
Perhaps you should do everyone a favor and end yourself now.
You’ve got nothing left to live for.
Every single thought was valid, laying the truth in front of me. But I at least needed to apologize to Eva, though I knew not what I would say. Apologies were fucking worthless after what I had done. It was a selfish request, dreamed up by a man who loved her.
But was it really love? I could not stop thinking about that question as it sat, insistent in the back of my mind. If I really loved her, could I have been convinced to do what I did?
It did not matter because there was no going back to the way things were before.
I had tortured her. I had nearly killed her. I had tried to take away her reason for living. And I had killed her sister.
I did not deserve retribution or understanding. I did not even deserve the small kindness they had offered me whenever they brought food. No, I deserved to be chained up and forgotten, utterly left to rot and waste away.
My body ached, the sickness in my veins claiming me violently as I hunched over and emptied my stomach of its little contents. The bitter taste of bile remained on my tongue, a stark reminder of my new reality.
How did I get here? How did I fuck things up in such extraordinary measures?
There was a simple answer.
