catches my eye.
I’m going to need that.
Another gulp and I’m speeding to grab it. There’s still no one else on board yet I find myself looking around. I’m not just scoping for signs of life, though—I’m taking it all in, locking every inch of it to my memory banks.
It’s the last time I’ll see it.
A single tear leaks free at the thought, prompting me to push off the deck with my feet. It’s nothing more than a split-second and I’m airborne, leaving behind Hook’s grand ship and a ball of my emotions. I need to detach from them completely, to turn it all off. Get myself in the correct mindset. Again, this is what’s best for everyone. Not just myself.
Emotions will only get in the way of that, make things harder than it already is.
Hell, they’re what got me here in the first place.
Not ten minutes later, I’m touching down on barren land; my second destination. Dead grass and slim, nearly naked trees surround me and the beautiful structure before me.
The Gilded Atrium; white columns and golden details, complete with an all-glass roof—and it’s all the more magical on the inside.
Well, it was.
Bracing myself for what’s to come, I tighten my hold on both Hook’s sword and the coiled rope, and make my way inside. The first glance leaves me breathless. It’s as empty and decrepit as I feel.
Abandoned.
Forgotten.
My misty gaze scans the now moss and vine-claimed walls, the dingy glass ceiling, too. Such a shame the Faes had to ruin it for everyone. This was once a place of great joy. Social gatherings, celebrations, everything of importance happened here. I danced on these dust-riddled stone floors more times than I can remember.
The same floors I’m suddenly flitting across to get this over with. This one thing that will forever taint and tarnish my memory.
What a fool.
Such a coward!
How could she do this to her family?
Shameful voices continue shouting my fate in a loop as I scope out the perfect spot. On the dais? Perhaps the changing room behind the tattered, crimson curtain, or before the balcony off the second floor?
A subconscious chuckle leaves me, drawing a scoff out along with it. A scoff at myself and the stupidity of my rationale.
Who cares where I do it? Doesn’t matter at all, really. This place might be centuries old, but no one will hear my screams from here. It’s too far out in the Woodlands, far enough that no one ventures out here.
Not even the Natives, and this is part of their domain.
I finally settle on the dais. Seems fitting after all my performances. Obviously, there isn’t an audience present at this time, but we’ll pretend there is. A dark, depraved audience intrigued by violent delights. I imagine them all sitting there, eyes rapt on my disheveled form. Cajoling eyes, sinister smiles, anticipation for bloodshed thick in the air.
Just the thought sucks the air from my lungs.
Drops me to my knees.
Bursts open the flood gates yet again.
More tears. They’re back with a vengeance, falling freely and uncontrollably from my eyes. Vision drowning in grief, I set the sword before me and stiffen my hold on the rough cordage. The bristles prickle my palms, almost mockingly when I wince.
How will I ever be able to handle what’s to come if the simple feel of rope grazing my skin hurts?
Exactly what the rope is for, remember?
That’s when I sob, the sound bouncing off the walls around me. When reality sets in. My parents will never forgive me for this. They may love me, may mourn me for years to come, but they’ll never accept this or come to terms with it.
And I won’t even be able to apologize.
The next ten minutes of my life are nothing more than a blur, certain parts more prominent and clear than others. One moment, I’m sinking my teeth into the rope and securing it around my head. Next I’m reclaiming the hooked sword and pulling one of my wings forward within my range of sight.
Do it, that beguiling, ill-boding voice coaxes from deep within. The same one I’ve done my best to ignore all these years.
The same one I won’t ignore this time.
Hands shaking, I go for it before I can fully process what I’m doing. The blade slices through my wing, shooting a muffled yet agonized scream forth from my mouth. The second hurts even more, harrowingly so.
So does the third, and the fourth. The fifth, too.
My screams echo.
Blood splatters around me, on me.
I can’t stop