Episode 5
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
"Who asked you to do that, you idiot?" The fat man barked at the other person.
"She was pointing a knife at you."
"So? She was an old lady." He approached the body. "I can't believe you wasted a whole bullet on this." the hovered over her
She was still breathing; her eyes were still moving; they could have saved her.
"...Get a rope from the garden and hang her; can't have anyone find out we were here."
"Yes, sir," the other person rushed to the garden door.
"No hard feelings, missus," he put his hands in his pockets, "but you still owe us; consider your son collateral."
He felt her heart rate spike; she wanted to move, say something, but she couldn't; her body just couldn't. Slowly, the noise started to dim out, and before they could return with the rope, she was dead.
Just as quickly as the vision came, just so it faded away.
He sat there for a while, hardly able to process what was happening; he was gone for hardly 4 hours, the first time he had left home without her, and now she was dead. They hardly spoke that morning; he skipped breakfast because the food was limited. He wanted to get out as soon as possible to get money, to find anything that could help. He didn't even say goodbye, just see you later. She gave him a hug, and he left.
He looked down at her pale face for some seconds, almost relieved that she died before they could hang her; she didn't have to go through that pain.
He picked her up as gently as he could, taking her to the garden, their colorful, beautiful garden, the garden that once smelled of fresh grass and fragrant flowers; for the first time, it had no scent at all.
He laid her down on the grass, picked up a shovel, and started digging; he dug and dug and dug, probably a little more than 6 feet, before he could lay her in the hole. Something caught his eye.
The rings.
He didn't know if she'd want him to have it, but he knew he needed it; he reluctantly took it off her, his fingers struggling to even unhook it. Some minutes later, it was around his neck, and she was in the grave.
He filled it with as many roses as he could maybe if he put enough, the smell would rub off on her and give her scent back, because right now, she didn't smell like roses anymore
"Mama," he breathed as his head faced the ground; it felt heavy and full. He didn't know what to do or what to feel; he didn't have anyone to blame...or did he? "Candice," his head grew hot as he came to realize all this had happened because of her.
But she was long gone now with no trail; no normal person would be able to find her, no normal person.
He was no normal person.
His eyes glowed as his consciousness leaped out of his body; all of a sudden, his soul was suspended in the air. This had never happened before, probably because he had never tried to use his powers before, probably because he hadn't realized he was this powerful.
Then he saw her; she glowed like she was the only person in the world. She was so far away but so close... so close he could touch her. He reached out his hand, and boom, like a whiff of wind, he vanished.
"3 days down." Candice smirked as she jiggled the sack of coins in her hand, 3000 silver; well, now 2800 silver would last her at least a year. She didn't really think they would make that much, but she was delighted to find the stash that morning.
She made her way to the trains as soon as possible and skipped town, the farthest place she could reach, more than 6 villages away from them.
The last three days she had spent lavishly, renting out the best houses, eating the best foods, and drinking the oldest and most expensive wines, but beer still tasted the best to her.
"This place is awesome; not every day do you find iced beer." She chugged it down as she walked down an alley that was a shortcut to her motel. As she went deeper into it, people passing began to lessen until there was no one there apart from her. Nothing unusual except for the fact that the shortcut didn't seem so short anymore; she had been walking for a while and still hadn't reached the end.
Then she heard a thud; something, no, someone had fallen behind her, probably another drunk. She turned to see who it was but was met with a surprise instead: Damien, her mother's adopted son, was standing right behind her.
How? How did he find her in this village, in this place?
"You..." She stepped back. "How the actual fuck did you find me?"
He looked up at her, eyes cold and dead.
"...Ma is dead." His voice echoed through the alley.
"Oh?" She sized him up. "So what? Why are you here?"
"Why am I here...? You're really shameless, a shameless, ungrateful brat, after everything Ma did for you!"
"Yes, yes, she adopted me, saved me from starvation, yippee do." She rolled her eyes and started walking away. "But she's dead now; go on, go bury your dead, lucky you, you get to keep the house...maybe."
"...Why did I think I could reason with you? You're not human."
"Sure," she scoffed, "don't let the village gates hit you on your way out...huh." She felt her body get pulled back; he had grabbed the back of her hair, but how did he get so close so fast?
"Fortunately I'm not human either." He grunted as his pupils flashed a dark purple; he pulled her hair and slammed her into the ground.
She screamed in agony as she wrapped her hands around her head.
"we're obviously both not human" He stood in front of her. "But you're worse." He kicked her in the stomach.
She recoiled as his feet came smashing into her belly; she removed her hand from her head and tightened it around her stomach; her hands were covered in blood; she wasn't sure if it was from the cuts of the beer bottle that had broken when she fell or from her head, but this was the first time she had seen her own blood in so much quantity.
He didn't care.
He kept kicking her, kicking her, all his anger and frustration; he took it out on her; he couldn't hear her screams or pleas; each time he kicked her was harder than the last; he wanted her to die, right there, right now.
Then he saw it; he saw his reflection in her eyes ... he looked like a monster, like a devil; he couldn't even recognize the expression on his face; he was so angry, so angry, but there was a wide smile on his face, a deep, sickening smile.
The smile slowly crumbled as he stepped back; he was enjoying this, enjoying her pain. It was disgusting, but oh, was it amazing at the same time. The adrenaline rush, it was the same, just like when he beat up those kids. Whenever they bled, it sent a shiver through him, one he could never understand.
"I hate you," he gritted his teeth. "I hate you so much."
"Please…" She gasped for air, covered in a pool of her own vomit and blood; her wrist was broken, and she was sure now that it was her head that was bleeding. "Please don't kill me."
"...death would be too easy of a release for you, Candice." His eyes glowed. "You will suffer, and you'll never be able to tell anyone about it."
She desperately started to crawl away.
"Anyone…" she called out, "please, please help me." Tears rolled down her face.
"You will suffer, Candice; your mind will rot until you are nothing but a hollow shell of yourself." His voice echoed as she got farther and farther away; actually, he was the one getting farther away. He had decided to let her go; he had bigger fish to fry.
She finally made it out of the alley after what felt like days, but when people found her, all words she said were incomprehensible, and they ended up taking her to an asylum where she lived the rest of her days out just like he had said.