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The Story of Blood and Roses-Chapter 156 Countdown
"Two loves I have, of comfort and despair," I quoted.
"Am I the fairer angel or the demon?" Darcy asked, amused. "Of course, I can imagine myself sitting on the throne of flames," he chortled.
"You're the angel, Luke. You're my love of comfort. I wanted to reach you. I went through months of pretending to be someone I am not to get to you." The fiery green eyes felt like molten lava. My face burned, my jaw hurt from the grin that split my face in half.
"You're a smooth talker, Vincent," he commented, not unkindly. "Are you saying that poor little Anthony, here, has been just a distraction?"
"Nope." I shook my head from side to side. "He's my bad angel... and he's going to fire my good one out!" I faked a gasp before letting the hysterical string of laughter escape my lips.
Suddenly, the thought flashed through me. Like lightening, it struck me.
I was Cienna.
This was what had happened to her.
"Oh, Anthony." I heard someone laugh. I didn't really know the voice, but I could feel my tongue move. I could feel the vibration in my throat. I was saying the words. "Your sense of irony kills me... literally." More fits of giggles.
"Shut up," he hissed. He strode towards me and yanked at something. I felt pain in my shoulders and I finally had to look around to see how they had tied me down.
It was quite a scene. My feet planted on the ground, but they were crossed and attached to opposing poles with chains. My arms were behind me, crossed at an odd angle that made my limbs ache. Chains crossed over to the poles to hold me in place.
I calculated the amount of force needed to tear my ligaments.
It wasn't much.
You feel no pain.
You feel nothing.
You are nobody.
You know nothing.
You love nothing.
You feel no pain.
You feel no pain...
Questions were asked, knives were pressed against my skin.
I bled, over and over.
Somewhere in those moments, a familiar face came forward, a knife in his hands.
I remembered him from training. He was a good agent. I was glad they sent him in using my plan.
I think I tried to smile at him, but I don't think I could manage it.
As he pushed the knife inside my body, I heard him whisper an apology. My lips curled up then. It felt good to be remembered. It felt good to be honored.
"Tell me, damn it!" I heard the traitor shout.
I felt no pain in that moment.
I felt powerful.
"No one will come to set you free... Your tracker will not work in this area. They will hear your screams, but they will not know where to search for you."
"When I die, I want to be buried beside my mother..." I told no one in particular.
It was just a passing thought. I was certain that was how I would like to spend eternity.
"But I wonder... will it be suffocating? What if I wake up and find myself in an enclosed space. I try to scratch my way out, but the top collapses and I get smothered in the soil I was buried in."
Clearly, Mia Vincent has lost her mind.
I wonder how long she will stretch this out.
She's a damned sexy lady.
What dress would they put her in?
"Listen to me, Mia," Anthony growled. "Speak to me." I could see someone place their hand on his shoulder. It was the older man... Luke.
"I think you should leave. Keeping you here is making her fight harder. We'll break her," he assured. Never. "Leave." No.
"I have something to tell you."I wish they could hear how-
I had no clue what I felt.
How does feeling nothing feel?
Not numb... that is feeling something...
Nothing.
It's nothing.
He turned around. He stared at me.
"I know you loved me. You love me."
"You love me."
"You love me."
Whispers.
Caresses.
If I had a choice, I'd miss his love.
I don't like feeling nothing.
This has to stop.
"You love me, Michael." Frozen. I would have the last word. Always.
"You love me so much that you will remember me until your last breath. You will not die today, or tomorrow, or anytime soon. You will live a long life, and every night before you go to sleep, you'll remember how it felt to move inside me. You'll say my name in your nightmares. You'll look at every woman you fuck and wonder where I am. And in the last millisecond of your life, a disembodied, mangled picture of my face will greet you." Pause. Breathe. "You'll know that you loved me to ruins. Dying in front of the man who loves me so much..." Lie. "I can't take that away from either of us."
Indulge in a few lies in the last moment of your life, I say to myself.
No, he didn't love you, but if you say it over and over again... maybe you will believe it? Maybe it will come true.
Click the small button.
Say the magic number.
Endure the prick of the needle.
Wait.
What a way to die, huh?
His name was my doom.
"One."
"One."
"Four."
"Two."
"Zero."
"One."
"Five."
"One."
"Four."
"Two."
"Five."
All the world's a stage... Smile. Perform. Perish. Repeat.
Three.
Two.
On-