Fall Of A Monster
Fall Of A Monster
Sharon teetered on the brink of the cliff, thunder of the river below a call of sirens, heart pounding at the reality—rebellion and fear compounded. Addicus stepped forward, gun held steady, blood-smeared face a mask of desperation. "Sharon, stop!" he yelled, voice cracking. "For God's sake, don't move!"
"No," she answered resolutely, the cliff crumbling from beneath her feet. "I won't."
"If you don't come back, I'll—" he started, gun trembling.
"Shoot me?" she jeered, crying. "Do it. I'd sooner die than live your captive. Finish it, Addicus."
He faltered, his eyes wide. "I don't want you dead," he stated, crumbling. "I thought I did, but… I want you to be happy, with me. That's all I've ever wanted." He let the gun fall, kicking it away, and advanced, his hand extended. "I'm sorry, Sharon. For everything. Please, don't do this."
His tears fell, raw, pleading. "Come with me. I'll change—for you. I can be better. Take my hand, we can begin again."
Sharon's heart twisted, his truth cutting but hollow. His pain—Samantha's rape, Danielle's betrayal, his mother's weakness—had made a monster, not a man. His offenses—her parents, Lily, Seb, Martha, her own assault—were unforgivable. Change was a lie, his love a trap.
"You're not capable," she said, voice cold. "This is you—forever."
"I can be anything to you," he pleaded, now standing inches from her, hand outstretched. "Give me a chance."
She looked toward the river, its depths so tempting. Was it worth giving up Peter, her love, her life? Live or die—she vacillated, tears blurring the decision.
The cliff made the choice. The edge collapsed, earth tumbling. Sharon screamed, falling, the river rushing up. Addicus jumped, grabbing her arm, his grip desperate.
"Hold on!" he snarled, battling with every ounce of strength he had to lift her, his lost hand a cruel handicap.
"Please," Sharon sobbed, fear replacing hate. She wanted living—Peter, happiness, freedom—not this dying.
"I won't let go," Addicus vowed, sweat beading. "Take my wrist!"
She clutched his stump, pulling herself up as he grappled with his left hand. They collapsed on firm earth, Addicus on top of her, panting. "You're okay," he said to her, a wistful grin creasing his face. "Don't ever do that again, please."
Sharon gazed at him, catching a flash of goodness, a man who might have been. Gratitude churned—she hated it, but he'd saved her. "Thank y—" she started, when a shot exploded.
Addicus jerked, blood exploding on his chest. A second bullet hit his stomach, a third his chest. He staggered, shock in his eyes. Sharon whirled—Peter stood, smoking gun, Chris and Jinx in the back, their faces set.
Addicus stumbled to the cliff’s edge, blood soaking his shirt. He smiled at Sharon, a final plea. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Forgive me.” He fell, tumbling hundreds of feet into the river, his body vanishing in the current, gone forever.
Sharon collapsed, sobbing, relief and sorrow crashing together. Peter dropped his gun, rushing to her, pulling her into his arms. “Sharon,” he choked, tears falling. “You’re safe.”
She clasped him, his warmth washing away Addicus's shadows. "Peter," she breathed, voice battered. "You found me."
"Always," he replied, his mouth against her forehead, his shame—her rape, his delay—washing away in her arms. Chris and Jinx moved closer, guns lowered, the forest silent but for the distant rumble of the river.
"He's gone," Chris said, voice heavy. "It's over."
Jinx swept the trees, uneasy. "We need to move," she said.
Peter helped Sharon up, her hip throbbing but her spirit unbroken. The cliffside was a tomb, Addicus's death a Pyrrhic victory. They had come out on top, but at what cost? Sharon's X's had led them here, her toughness a given, but the wounds—physical, emotional—would linger.