Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 168: Shattering the Devil’s Shackles

Chapter 168: Chapter 168: Shattering the Devil’s Shackles

The broken door, the clanging gurney, white coats coming and going, shadows at the doorway flickering strangely.

Then disappeared.

Elaine White rushed in from the outer door and hugged her. Eleanor still felt the texture of the knife handle in her hand, along with the sticky, warm sensation of flowing liquid.

Her soul froze. Mechanically, she asked Elaine White, "He didn’t dodge, I stabbed the knife into his heart, it must be the heart, he will die, right?"

Elaine White held her tightly, her muscles tense and trembling.

She didn’t know how to answer that question. Logically, a knife piercing the heart leaves no chance of survival, but in medicine, things are not absolute. There have been several cases in the country where steel bars pierced through a person’s head and they survived.

And she had just seen one of the world’s top two cardiac surgeons in the corridor. If the knife pierced the pericardium and immediate rescue is provided, with not much bleeding, life can be saved, but it’s a gamble against fate with low odds.

"It’s okay, it’s okay... you were right to stab him, someone like him... a madman..."

Indeed, a madman.

Who would gamble with their life, who would not cherish their life extra when they are at the peak of success, to parade their luck and fortune before The Reaper?

The nurse asked them to change to another ward, this ward was on the west side of the corridor, the new ward was at the far east end of the corridor.

The furnishings were also arranged differently.

Eleanor’s vision lost focus, a red hue clouded her eyes, deathly, ominous, making it hard to see specific things clearly.

She was quickly forgetting what Cillian Grant used to look like, but he was never like this, and neither was she.

From the moment Cillian Grant relentlessly pursued her to Froskar, when the child was made public, her mindset faltered, her impatience and foggy mind wanted to fake her death to completely break away from The Grant Family, only to be played with and lose the child in the process.

She fell into collapse, a collapse of her state of mind.

She hated Cillian Grant, and also hated herself, constantly couldn’t help but think, perhaps if she had been as he said, more compliant, more obedient, whether it was breaking away from The Grant Family at The Emerald Residence or each time Cillian Grant questioned in Froskar.

If she had chosen another answer, she might have kept the child, and wouldn’t have implicated others all the time.

Yet she didn’t want to surrender, in the end she only wanted to perish with the devil.

Now that she had stabbed Cillian Grant through the heart, should she go and atone for her sins too?

Eleanor asked, "Did you call the police?"

Elaine White pushed her to lie down, wrapping Eleanor’s chin with dry, soft fabric.

Elaine White brushed aside her hair and touched her face, "Damon Sharp didn’t report, and neither did my dad take action. The doctors and nurses were orderly in the chaos, that madman was prepared long ago, Eleanor you shouldn’t feel guilty, just consider it revenge, a breath of anger."

As she spoke more fluidly, she caught sight of the late-arriving Ian White, sparks of brilliance flashing in her mind.

"Even if this stab doesn’t kill him, it would take half his life, he wouldn’t be out of the ICU without ten days to half a month. Eleanor, now the revenge is done, the hospital is in chaos, let’s leave. We won’t return to the country, let’s go to New Zealand, to Sweden, I’ll wander with you even to the moon."

Eleanor was dazed, prepared long ago, and left with half a life.

"Scheme..." she finally reacted. "It’s still a scheme."

Eleanor’s heart jolted and stopped, it was the depth of winter, the cold solidifying between the bones.

Every time she thought she recognized the terror of Cillian Grant, he could always break that terror, he dared to play life-and-death games, Eleanor couldn’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do.

At this moment, she abruptly thought of that phone call when she was first caught in Froskar.

——I’ll send you year after year, until you are struck by lightning, until you go six feet under.

——I completely accompany you. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

A gust of wind blew through the corridor, but didn’t reach the bedside, yet Eleanor was chilled into tears at the corners of her eyes, thoroughly understanding that escaping from Cillian Grant was a false proposition, there was no end result.

This stab didn’t kill him, moving forward there’s only one answer, to be caught and trapped by him.

Elaine White saw her face, hopeless, sorrowful, ashen, and her heart burned with urgency, she yelled at Ian White, "Dad how do we go, when do we go, you give a plan now, immediately,"

Ian White wanted to step out the door, gut twisting with regret, at fifty or sixty years old halfway to the grave, having traveled thousands of miles just to assist in a real-life version of Wuthering Heights’ abnormal emotional cage.

"Actually I don’t recommend——"

"Uncle White, I’m not running." Eleanor struggled to sit up, her expression tranquil with lowered eyes, "Running around, except implicating others, is of no use."

Cillian Grant wasn’t wrong, he could have built a golden cage, and now I’m a black-listed person, which makes it even more convenient.

Yet he painstakingly concocted this stab, confident that she would inevitably sink in the future. Before, it was a cat-and-mouse game, now it’s hunting her uneventful heart.

But her heart, along with her bones and flesh, had already been gouged out, bleedingly so.

Could a few likely good deeds, a few so-called tenuous truths from those years, really have someone resurrect, regrow a heart, and lick his hand like a dog?

Eleanor felt she couldn’t, yet she didn’t feel like taking his life anymore. His mention of The Grant Family’s revenge was a reminder instead.

She killed him, willingly went to jail.

Someone like Mr. Grant, though, would inevitably hold Elaine White and Damian Sinclair responsible, all participants in this matter.

To break free from the devil’s shackles, she should possess capital like the devil, or grasp the devil’s lifeline, making him completely lose the ability to harm.

Elaine White, with her lungs twisting in sour pain, lifted the quilt onto the bed, hugging her tightly, "Don’t be afraid of implicating others, this isn’t implicating, Damian Sinclair, that big fool, won’t think it is."

"I don’t believe Cillian Grant can truly wipe out both The White Family and The Sinclair Family, at most it’s some losses, big or small."

"If I stop being a doctor, I might as well go back to help my dad. Damian Sinclair could bear some losses; he might as well break off the engagement with that dramatist Phoebe Grant. Everyone gains and loses, it’s all fair."

Ian White hesitated to speak. Gains and losses are fair, but if the house were to collapse and a chicken flew into the yard, this disparity in gains and losses would make one ’wish for life and death’.

Eleanor sat unsteadily, pressed into Elaine White’s embrace, half-lying, half-sitting, all her tears drying on Elaine White’s collar, and finally, after a long time, she raised her head, Elaine’s eyes redder than hers, Eleanor wiped them with her sleeve.

"Now my tears are on your clothes, your tears on mine, so it’s fair, you can’t cry anymore."

Elaine pursed her lips, sobbing as she gazed at her, "Eleanor, have you already decided not to leave. Now I realize, like Damian Sinclair, I’m another big fool, rushing to offer help that’s useless, all putting you under pressure."

Eleanor tugged at her collar, soaked with her tears, "It’s a rescue. After I found out I was pregnant, I’ve been very scared, more scared after being caught in Froskar, afraid I’d be too big and unable to run, afraid that after the child was born, I’d never be able to take her away, afraid that in the end, I harmed her."

"Elaine, if I hadn’t heard your voice, I wouldn’t have wanted to open my eyes, and yet you were silenced by Uncle White, I feared for you."

Eleanor, "Then I realized it wasn’t unfettered, hope utterly gone, thank you for pulling me back, for helping hide the glass shards, for staying with me to stab him. This stab made me realize perishing with him is repeating the same oversight of prioritizing one thing over another, won’t make that mistake again."

She turned to look at Ian White again, "Right? Uncle White."

Ian White paused, gone was the smooth, evasive demeanor, his gaze gentle, "Very right. But I originally intended to deceive you, the principles I wanted to set were not just or correct, very worldly——"

Elaine was shocked, utterly incredulous, her father was about to be a traitor.

Ian White’s heartfelt words stuck, he coughed twice, "If you have no place to stay for a while after returning to the country, Uncle White has a big house, the guest room next to Elaine’s room is vacant. If you have a preferred renovation style, let the butler arrange it for you."

Before the words were finished, he dragged Elaine out the door.

Elaine, utterly furious, "Ian White, you old fox, do you deserve to be my dad? Who cares for a junk house! Eleanor is almost shattered; I won’t leave, I want to be with—"

"She doesn’t need company now, she needs calm." Ian White sighed, teaching his foolish daughter.

"She’s smart and thorough, so there’s a lead; she’ll quickly figure out the path she needs to take next. But figuring it out is one thing, persuading oneself to walk it takes time, you being in there, the bit of resolve just forced out of her, all used to coax you, how tiring."