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And pounces.
They swing at each other, wrestling to knock the other down. I gasp, my eyes bursting with tears.
“Stop!” I cry out, trying to catch up with them, but they are too fast, always one on top of the other.
Until the masked man swings, hitting Creed with an uppercut that has his head swinging back, and he stumbles, until his legs knock against one of the bolted-down pipes on the floor.
His arms fly to his sides, and he flails for a moment as he stumbles back, right into the glass window. The force breaks it, the glass shattering instantly.
And Creed flies through.
A gasp leaves my mouth, and the masked man reacts instantly, snapping forward in an attempt to catch him.
Though it’stoo late.
The glass is barely heard over the party, though people do hear it, turning to us and coming to see what happened.
They react, but the masked man reacts quicker.
He bolts, and fear and terror and rage hit me at once. I sprint after him, my blood turning to fire as he runs down the stairs.
“Stop!” I shout, my hands gripping the railing, but he races down the spiral staircase. He slips in between the crowd as it grows thicker, and my eyes stay glued to the back of the hooded head.
Don’t lose sight of him.Do not lose him.
We continue spiraling down until we hit the first floor, and the masked man heads to the back door, his hand pounding against the steel.
I rush after him, slipping sideways as I make it out before it shuts.
The door bangs shut, steel against steel.
And all I can see in front of me is death.
Creed lies face down, his face buried into the grass, his legs bent awkwardly at his sides. A pool of blood surrounding him.
He’s…dead.
“No,” I squeak, my legs growing weak.
“No!” I scream, tears flowing down my cheeks. I can hear people shouting from up above, and I’m too afraid to turn him over, just to check, but I know I don’t have to.
His chest isn’t moving.
His heart isn’t beating.
He isn’t here anymore.
Not to love. Not to hold. Not to be around.
He’s dead. He’s gone.
Rage bubbles within me as I turn my gaze to the masked man, who stands there, unmovable.
And I attack.
I rush him, my hand shoving against his chest, pushing him against the wall of the lighthouse. He goes willingly, the fight in him lost, and I growl, seething, so fucking angry as I stare at him. My hand goes to my mask, and I rip it off my face, tossing it to the ground.
“What did you do?” I scream at him, sobbing. My hand goes into a fist, and I slam it against his chest. “What the fuck did you do?” I roar.
