Chapter 34
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Tessa the Reaper
Crouching, I angle the knife once more and look down the hallway. The dragon sits at the bottom of the stairs, the gun resting in her lap. From behind a curtain of stringy hair, she looks out at nothing, waiting for me to make the first move. If I go for the door, she’ll be able to shoot me in the back before I can reach the handle. If I exit the kitchen and go left toward her, well, same ending. I need to figure a way out of this that doesn’t end with me in a pool of blood on the floor.
“Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock,” the dragon murmurs. She picks up the gun and lays the barrel against her cheek, as if drawing comfort from the deadly weapon. Before I draw back the knife, there’s a sudden movement in the reflection. A blurry figure peeks into the living room from the sliding glass door.
Oh god, is that Andrew?
If she sees him, she’s going to shoot. I can’t let that happen. One by one, I yank open drawers until I find the one full of utensils.
“What are you doing in there?” she hisses. “Nothing will save you.”
With deadly accuracy, I fling a steak knife into the hallway where it becomes lodged into the wall. There’s a sharp inhale from the other room, and shuffling noises as the dragon gets to her feet.
I have her full attention which means her back will be to Andrew. I continue to fling knives and utensils, anything I can do to muffle the noise of him coming inside.
Knife in hand, I freeze when I hear his soft voice drift from the living room.
“Where is she?” he asks, there’s no fear in his voice. She must have hidden the gun from his sight. If I barge in now, she will kill him in an instant.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My mother giggles. “Ahh, well about that, our girl is a wily one, always has been. I suppose little beasties don’t much like to be collared and chained. . .” The floorboards creak as she paces.
“You’re fucking sick.”
“She asked me to take her, dear, to lock her up—couldn’t trust herself you see. Got a taste for the good stuff, just like her Daddy. Showed up on my doorstep and begged me to stick the needle in her veins.”
The bitch is goading me.
“Liar. You kidnapped her because she had the one thing you never did, happiness. And you being the miserable bitch you are, needed to drag her down with you. Now, tell me where the fuck she is, or I swear to God I’ll snap your ugly neck.” The coldness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“She’s not happy unless there’s blood on her hands. Your sweet Tessa is a murderer.”
“Shut. Up.”
“A murderous little slut—”
There’s an inhuman roar, followed closely by a thundering crash. Without a second thought about bullets or death, I tear into the living room. My eyes widen as I take in the scene that unfolds before me.
A soaking wet Andrew grunts as he pins my mother to the ground, his knee pressed into her chest. Either her reaction time was too slow, or she was caught unaware when he rushed her.
They wrestle for control of the gun, Andrew’s muscles bulge as he rips the weapon out of her feeble grasp. With a shriek, the dragon strikes her head forward and sinks her teeth into his wrist, drawing blood.
He loses his grip on the weapon for just a moment.
But a moment is all she needs.
Quicker than I can blink, she’s on her feet with the gun raised and pointed at Andrew’s forehead, the barrel resting against his flesh.
“NO!” I scream. Rooted to the spot, I watch on in horror, terrified of moving, breathing, flinching, or doing anything that will startle her into pulling the trigger.
Only his eyes turn to look at me, large and unblinking. “It’s okay, baby. I love you.” He swallows hard and gives me a shaky smile meant to comfort me. Thirteen-year-old Andrew did the exact same thing only a few yards from this very spot.
No matter how far I run, no matter how much I try to change for the better, I still circle back to the exact moment where I cause his life to hang in the balance.
Both times it was my fault, and both times I will fail to protect him.
There are no second chances when his brains are splattered on the wall.
“Mom, it’s not him you want dead. Look at me, the person you want dead is right here.” I let the knife fall from my hands as I stretch out my arms in surrender. She doesn’t even blink in my direction, and panic surges through my veins. “LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING BITCH!” I scream. This time her eyes cut to mine.
“Tessa,” Andrew hisses, his voice thick with terror. “Shut up and run, NOW!” I take a startled step back when his voice thunders in fury.
The dragon smiles at me, then returns her attention to Andrew. “Blood for blood,” she snarls.
I wail with fear and fury.
The gun cocks, and as a blood-curdling scream rises in my throat, another voice rings out. “NO!” For a second, our eyes connect, but my startled mother whips around and pulls the trigger with a deafening crack.
Time slows to a crawl. Andrew lunges forward and yanks the gun from her hand. Brown eyes once filled with relief, now look down in confusion as Chase drops to his knees and slumps to the ground.
“No, no, no, no, no.” I drop to his side, whispering the word over and over as if my will alone can stop the truth. His eyes dart frantically around as his body shudders and jolts, blood spurting from the hole in his chest. When he coughs, a trickle of blood dribbles down his chin. My hands jump to the bullet wound that soaks his shirt in red. I apply pressure with my palms to try to stop the bleeding, but his face goes slack and his body stills.
With my hands pressed to his chest, a tremor begins to work its way through my body like an earthquake. My eyes close shut, and the last few moments play over and over in my mind like a stuttering movie reel. The relief on his face when he sees I’m alive. The loud crack of the gun, and the way his body folds in on itself.
Again.
The relief on his face when he sees me. The crack of the gun, and the way his body folds in on itself.
And again.
The relief on his face when he sees me. The crack of the gun, and the way his body folds in on itself.
And again, and again until the images blur together in a tornado of devastation that blows through my quaking form. With one hand, I lift his head and guide it into my lap, my hand brushes a stripe of sticky blood through his hair.
A familiar voice shouts my name, but I ignore it.
Chase.
My Moon.
A choked scream tears through my throat as sobs rack my body and my mended soul unravels. The weight of reality is clawing at me, dragging me into a sea of black. I want nothing more than to lie down, to melt into the earth and let the abyss devour me.
He’s fallen from the night sky. How can I go on without his moonlight to guide me?
I trace my fingers across Chase’s cheek and look at his blurry face through the onslaught of tears. Quite the twist on a fairytale, isn’t it?
What kind of fucked up story kills off the Jester with the heart of gold?
This one, because this is my miserable story.
Chapter one, bloodshed.
Chapter three, rape.
Chapter five, bloodshed.
Chapter ten, a tease of happiness.
Then, big FUCKING SURPRISE. MORE GODDAMN BLOODSHED, HUH, MA?
I WANTED YOUR LOVE. GOT BURNS, CUTS, AND BRUISES.
I wanted a crown, a castle, love, and light.
I got chains, blood, death, and a dragon.
Blood, death, dragon.
BLOOD DEATH DRAGONS, BLOODDEATHDRAGONS.
Laughter bubbles in my chest. I’m so far away now.
No. No. Stop, Tessa, stop right now.
I can’t shatter, can’t break when I still have purpose. I let the Reaper break through to kill Trent and escape, but that’s no longer enough. This is the only option I have left, but I fear it may be too late. Cracks of my sanity snake along the seams, splintering my mind.
I close my eyes for a moment and beg the madness to retreat for a little while longer. If I can be granted a few moments of clarity, I will happily give in to the inside-out world. I’ll gladly push myself into the rabbit hole and become lost in Wonderland.
With a deep inhale, and more inner strength than I thought I possessed, I shove mad little Tessa into a box and allow the Reaper full reign.
I let the Reaper consume me, body, mind, and bloodstained soul.
Leaning down, I bring my chapped lips to Chase’s ear. “No rest for the wicked, handsome,” I whisper with a soft kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye.”
Like turning the handles on a rushing faucet, my emotions shut off and I process the situation at hand with a cool head.
I snap my head to the side where Andrew looks over with fearful eyes. He has the gun pointed at the dragon’s head as she lies on the floor muttering obscenities at him.
Andrew takes a shaky breath before asking, “Is he. . .?”
“I need you over here. Keep the gun trained on her,” I speak calmly, but his eyebrows furrow as his gaze reluctantly returns to the dragon.
“We need to take care of this,” he spits, a malicious glint twists his features.
Somewhere far away, mad little Tessa screams out and bangs on the walls of our shared subconscious. She doesn’t want his soul to be tainted with blood like hers, which is fine. I am, admittedly, quite selfish on the matter. I refuse to share this kill.
The dragon is mine.
I was shaped in the bowels of Tessa’s pain, created with the ultimate purpose of reaping the dragon’s reptilian soul. She may have brought her into this hellish world, but I will be the one to take her out—for Chase, and for the future of the child that grows in our womb.
I force my voice to waiver with terror. “I’m losing strength, I’m hurt. I need you to use your shirt and apply pressure to his wound, there’s no time, he’s fading fast.” I wave my hand for him to move closer, but he doesn’t budge.
A murderous expression ripples across his features. “She needs to pay for this, for everything.” The gun shakes as his hand trembles with rage.
“She needs to rot in jail, let the police deal with her. Right now, I need you to help Chase or he’s going to die. Please, Andrew.” I force my eyes to well with tears, and I watch his resolve crumble. These baby blues hold a lot of untapped power.
It’s an empty threat. Chase has already lost too much blood and is strolling through the pearly gates as we speak, but it’s as good a motivator as any.
Andrew keeps the gun trained on her as he slowly moves beside me.
Gently moving out from beneath Chase, I keep one hand pressed against the bullet hole, and hold out my other for the weapon. “The gunshots have surely alerted someone to call the authorities. Here, give me the gun, I’ll keep it pointed at her. Trust me, she’s not going anywhere.” I try to sound like I’m being helpful, rather than bloodthirsty. No easy feat when my patience is wearing thin, and the clock is running out.
Suspicion flickers in his eyes, but slowly, he hands me the gun.
It’s heavier than I thought it would be, this small tool that will allow me to fulfil my life’s purpose. A sword would be more poetic, and a scythe would be icing on the cake, but I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. I suppress the smile that threatens to take over my face as I push off the floor and stand tall.
My eyes glide to where our mother cowers.
The minute our eyes meet, her mouth twists into a smirk. “There she is. My, my, it took you so long to come out and play. I was worried she got rid of you for good.”
A pathetic attempt on her part to gain a few more minutes of life I suppose.
“What are you talking about?” I snarl.
“I saw glimpses of you as a child, moments where your face would change, and the strangest words would spit out of your insolent mouth. This is probably the longest Tessa has let you take over.”
She’s right, the part of me that is good and decent, poured life into me a very long time ago. She would hide away in her mind, and let me take a rather nasty beating, or watch on when she was forced to see our parents participate in a drug induced orgy. Over the years, I’ve only stepped forward a few minutes at a time, then she would resume control.
That part of me, the princess, is useless in a crisis, but I’ve come to love her as much as she hates me.
Pity she’s broken now.
“I’ve been waiting for you too,” I say with a sly grin. “Each day she grew stronger and happier, and I faded a little more. In fact, you almost escaped this fate altogether.”
“What is she talking about, Tessa?” Andrew’s voice chokes out in confusion from behind me. Looking back, I raise a bloody finger to my lips, motioning for him to be quiet.
The dragon’s harsh voice cuts into the air. “She was always a weak child, that’s why she accepted the Devil into her heart. I believe in the almighty God. I pray now, you cannot harm me.” She gives me a smug look.
I let out a laugh so hard I snort. She thinks me to be the Devil.
I tap the barrel of the gun against my thigh with a sigh. “I’m not the Devil. I am every bruise that blossomed on your daughter’s skin. I am the fire you used to burn her, and the wire that sliced into her flesh. I am your words that made her feel worthless, that hatred you felt every time you gazed upon her. I am each tragic event that would come to curse her. All of them caused by the domino effect of your neglect and abuse. I’m not the Devil, but I am your Devil.”
Her eyes widen with a new fear.
Ah, there it is. She finally understands.
Stumbling to her knees she scrambles toward the front door. With my free hand, I snatch the ugly lamp that sits within reach and fling it at her body. It lands with a heavy crack across the middle of her back. The ceramic pieces shatter and rain down on her as she’s knocked back to the hardwood floor.
“Tessa, what the hell are you doing?” Andrew’s shout momentarily interrupts my fun. I drag my eyes to him in irritation. Can’t he see I’m a little busy?
“What I was made to do,” I respond as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.
I blow him a kiss with my blood red lips, then turn my attention back to the job at hand.