AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Death didn’t come to him quickly, on the contrary, I dragged it out, assuring myself that Bea’s suffering would be paid for with interest.
I was just making the final touches to my creation when the door flew open and Brax’s voice made even the chandelier hanging on the ceiling tremble, ‘What the fuck have you done?’ His roar could be heard all the way back to my own estate.
‘It just came to me,’ I spoke so calmly that he knew there wasn’t much to be added.
‘Clean this shit up,’ he barked towards his men, barely able to control himself from throwing up.
My job there was done, so after I had wiped all the blood from my knives, I decided I could move on, ‘I need to see Bea.’
‘You need to see a fucking shrink,’ Brax snarled, leaving the room. ‘That’s fucking messed up Ferris, and you know it!’
‘What he did to Bea is fucking messed up. Now excuse me, I have to get to the hospital.’
‘Go wash your hands before you leave. They’re fucking covered in blood.’ The exhaustion in Brax’s voice made me look at my palms. He was right. I was tainted with the governor’s blood, yet somehow, it didn’t seem to have any effect on me. I was as cold as a well-oiled machine, specially designed to do that.
A man without remorse.
And that was fucking terrifying me.
The blood I just washed from my hands might not have had an effect on me, but the first steps I took through the hospital doors did. I felt like choking... like all air was being sucked out of my lungs.
‘Sir, are you alright?’ a nurse decided to ask since I was supporting myself on the walls to be able to move.
‘I need to see Bea White.’ That’s all I could remember before I found myself in front of her hospital room.
I wasn’t well. Far from it. So, after a few hours spent there, waiting for any news, I called Alfred to take me home. The smell of doctors and death had a much stronger effect on me than killing the governor could have ever had. I was reminded of my own condition, falling down the rabbit hole once again just hours after I thought I was safe.
The days that followed seemed to have fallen into a strange rhythm. Bea had survived. That was all that mattered, but despite my need to be close to her, my visits to the hospital were always cut short because of my own problems coming to haunt me.
Luckily, after just a few days I managed to set up a hospital room at my estate and transferred Bea there, along with the nurse who would take care of her.
Despite Bea’s presence in my house, I didn’t get to see too much of her, at least not after she had awakened. She was in severe shock and had every reason to be so. Her face was almost unrecognizable, still needing a few more weeks to recover from the blows she had received.
Her reflection in the mirror had even caused her to faint, forcing me to take care of her while she had been unconscious. However, she didn’t want me there when she woke up. Not after what I did to her. Not even if I was the one who could best understand her nightmares.
We did meet again the following day since Bea was demanding explanations of what had happened. An emergency meeting was called, and surprisingly I was the one left to retell what happened the day at the governor’s house. Not an easy mission when I was starting to believe Bea hated my guts.
Somehow I managed to pull through the task well enough. She wasn’t as shocked as I thought she should be finding out I killed the governor, but that didn’t mean that she came to have better feelings about what happened between us.
I never went back to her room to see her since that day. At least not while she was awake, but I did enter invade her space on some of the nights I knew she was alone. I needed to convince myself that she was still there. It was giving me hope that maybe one day things would go back at least to the way they were. It was still in my power to make that happen. I just didn’t want to force it. Anyrequestand she would irremediably hate me — if that weren’t already the case.
I just chose to let time heal her wounds. The physical ones along with the ones I’ve caused.
I wished time would also heal my wounds. But with each passing day, it seemed I was only heading further into the dark abyss of my mind. I was drifting away from reality nightmare after nightmare and there was no one to keep my demons away. My PTSD was reaching a whole new level, especially since I was forced to leave the house considering I was the one running for governor.
At least, I managed to master a certain level of tranquility outside the gates of my estate and keep my outbursts for the moments I was in the safety of my room. But when that moment came... when I found myself truly alone, the images I dreaded so much were projecting themselves like a never-ending movie playing in my head. The death of my parents, and something new, a devastating image that was haunting my soul — the pictures of Bea first arriving in the hospital, igniting the same fear within me over and over again.
It was well beyond a month since I’d lived on the verge of insanity while each breath was pushing me further down that cliff. The assassins that killed my parents were constantly appearing every time I closed my eyes and the sleep deprivation was having an impact on my temper. I was always on the edge. Always prepared to fight ‘till the end.
It was just another night in which I woke up screaming, howling my misery at the moon like a lone wolf. My heart was pumping so loudly that I could hear it in my ears as my senses were sharpened to their max. Despite that, I tried closing my eyes and going back to sleep. I knew what another sleepless last night meant, and I wasn’t going to be staring at the ceiling for hours to come, watching pools of blood raining down on me.
Surprisingly, I drifted off. It had something to do with the case of insomnia I’ve been facing lately. I’ve been feeling incredibly tired, though without being able to get some real sleep, just drifting off at times, before my nightmares stretched out their claws to grab me.
They were with me again, drowning me in murky waters. I was dying, a slow painful death as a strand of pure evil was wrapping like a poisonous vine around me.
I could no longer distinguish reality from dreams, but it seemed I had woken up facing another nightmare. My knife was resting on Bea’s thigh and a red line of blood was laying under its blade.
Suddenly, I was wide awake, trying to process what I had done but at the same time, wanting to touch the red trail and smear my hands in its warmth.
