Author: Syrai
Fandom: Original // Anguish Series
Rating: T (PG-13) for now
Genre: Fantasy // Sci-fi
Status: WiP
Summary: Second part of
“Anguish series” - sequel to ‘Shades of Truth.’ Set about three years after the
incidents of SoT. (You might want to read it to truly understand what’s going
on in here) Romy’s life changes dramatically when the hidden witch gene seems
to be awakening and all the sudden,
she becomes the prey being hunted by her own friends. Now the question is, can she still be saved or will her mother’s
fate be also hers?
Disclaimer: Mine. Yes, mine. I
made it up. I should be getting money out of it, like loads, I should be rich
by now… but for some unknown reason I’m not. Beats me.
Life’s just cruel like that.
A/N: My muse? Probably
‘Poets of the Fall’ again. And F, but that’s so
normal.
_Awakening_
Part 3
When you think of it, things don’t really change. You do. Perspectives do.
Time goes by; people grow out of some things into some other things. Beliefs,
they change. The way you see the world might change, but the only thing that
doesn’t change while you do, is the fact that after everything you’ve been
through, you still hear want you want to hear and see the world like you want
to see it. Not like you want it to be, but how you think it is. So, when you
are finally forced to look the truth into the eye; forced to see through all
those stories and lies you’ve been taught to believe in, you blame the world
for deceiving you. For making you ignore things. Go to hell, you think. Go to
hell for not showing me the truth when I so desperately needed to see it. Just
leave me alone. Well, to your defense it has to be said that it’s natural for
people to blame others for their own mistakes – you can’t deny it. It’s never
your fault. You’re innocent.
Yeah right. And cows, they do fly.
Why is it so hard for you to accept the fact that you’re not perfect? No
one is. What kind of place would the world be if everyone were perfect –
without any kind of flaws? Better? I
don’t think so, nope. People, they want to be perfect because they think it’s
how they are supposed to be… and that that way the world will be better place
for us to live in, but they’re forgetting the most important thing there is.
With good comes bad. Without good there’s no bad.
Chaos, I’m saying. The world would be a living, breathing trash bin
filled with people that think they’re
perfect. It’d be chaos but we’d be too blind to really realize that. To admit that.
No, you see, God made you the way you are. You are perfect with all the
little flaws you have because that’s what you were meant to be, isn’t that so?
All the little annoying habits your partner has he’s supposed to have. Alright,
I can go with that… but if it was God that made me, are my mistakes caused by
Him and His choices? Or are they my own choices that fuck up my life and He’s
just letting them happen because it’s not His place to control my life? No
destiny, no certain treasure waiting for us at the end of the rainbow then? I
used to believe in fate, I thought I’m heading towards an already defined point
but I’m not so sure anymore. What changed my mind? I don’t know, everything just seems to be too irrational to be fate. So,
maybe Trey’s right. God doesn’t have any plans for us. Choices are what form
our future. God may have made us, but He has nothing to do with our lives.
We’re His TV. His Friday night’s movie.
Now, should I be glad to know I can change my future or sad knowing it’s
all up to me? If I fuck up, it’s really me who fucks up, not God. Who can I
blame them?
The answer?
The fuck should I know; not even though it’s all that I’ve been thinking for
the passed three days. You could say I’ve been trying to find some kind of
answer to the questions dwelling within me. Me. Yeah, obviously, I haven’t changed yet and for some reason we
haven’t changed location either. I’m pretty damn sure both Trey and the Centre know
where this place is so it’s practically a miracle that no one has dashed in
yet. Everything has its own time and place, huh? No, I’m thinking they don’t
know how to get in here.
Do I want them to find me? Yes. No. I don’t know. I suppose I should want
it; as said, I don’t want to go crazy and hurt others but… then there’s the
catch. You know, me still being me. So, if the changing or ‘turning’ how they
call it, can actually take this long before it happens, does it mean I’ve
killed people that haven’t even been real
witches yet? What does that make me? A murderer?
Shit.
Does the fact I did it to protect ordinary humans mean anything anymore
or is it just me wishing it would? You go and figure it out; I’m too tired to
try. Not like it would change anything anyway.
“Romy, you hungry?”
It’s Morgan’s careful voice coming from behind the door that interrupts my deep
thoughts. The first word about to blurt out of my mouth is a very harsh ‘no’
but when my stomach suddenly snarls, the reply dies on my lips. Clearly time to
reconsider the offer. “Yeah… a bit.”
“Well, there’s food in the kitchen. You can come with me if you like.”
I really don’t, but what else can I do? Order her to go away and tell me
when she’s finished eating so that I can go there all by myself, sulking and
pouting… planning my grand escape which I’m probably never going to try out.
Where would I go? I guess this is as good place as any other place I’d be
locked into, but it doesn’t mean I’d have to like it. Giving up on hope isn’t
the term I’d use… I’d say I’m just waiting for the final turning to take place.
What happens after that… well, happens.
I get up as slowly as possible just to annoy the waiting girl a bit.
Every other hour I think I might start to like her, but then I remember she’s a
witch and all the hatred comes back. At the moment I’m just feeling sorry for
her for what she is. Maybe I should stop picturing all the throats she’s slit
because of the blood thirst and just concentrate on something else.
I walk to the door, slowly of course, and open it. She’s still standing
there, arms lying against her sides and smiling the brightest smile ever. God,
how is it possible for things to turn out like this? Why are they being so
friendly towards me when all I do is say how much I want them all to die away
and go to hell? To suffer for all the eternity and beyond.
Longer even.
Hell, it never even crosses my mind that I’m wishing myself to hell. Doesn’t bother me that much though. We’re all going to die
some day and we’re all going to end up in hell anyway. They say asking to be
forgiven is the way to get through heaven’s gate, but I’m thinking it’s not.
It’s what we say to make ourselves be less afraid of death. If you ask me,
every little lie you’ve said: each and every dishonest word you’re spoken…
they’re your tickets to hell. Heaven is empty. That’s why it’s called heaven.
Bless the silence.
I guess when your inner-world falls apart it’s only fair you feel a bit disconnected
from the world outside your mind. Let me have my nervous breakdown when
obviously I’m in need of one, ok? Everything’s a whole lot better after I’m
finished with it. A world will look beautiful again… or at least bearable.
“So, you coming?” Morgan asks tearing me back
to reality and I realize that I haven’t moved since I opened the door. “Yeah.” I don’t look at her for the smile makes me want to
vomit and slapping her face to make it go away might not be the smartest thing
to do at the moment.
She waits till I close the door behind me before she starts to walk
towards the other door at the end of the hallway. At first she’s silent, but
then she glances at me hesitating and somehow I get the feeling there’s
something she’s about to say. Please don’t.
“So, out of curiosity, how many people have you killed?” Even though I
knew she was going to speak, the question itself hits me like a piano from
above and I almost stop walking. Instead I just turn my face to stare at her,
surprised. “What?” How dare she ask that question?
“You’re a hunter which means you hunt. Since Patrick doesn’t let me read
the Centre’s personal files and such – he’s good when it comes to hacking into
other people’s computer systems you know”, she speaks with what seems as a
rather proud and naïve tone of voice… but there’s something else there I can
easily recognize. The kind of impudence her brother hasn’t showed yet and it
angers me almost as much as it confuses me. The smile on her face is full of
it! And not only that, it also sounds like she’s accusing me of something, as
if I was the bad guy here! You must give her credit for being one tough ass
teenager.
“I was just wondering… You accuse us for killing people because we enjoy
it, as you put it. I think you called it a blood thirst… ”
We come to the door and she opens it letting me in first as they all do.
“Where are you getting at with this?” I glance over my shoulder while walking
down the brick stairs. With my other hand I feel the wall on my way down for I
don’t want to trip over and fall in the middle of an interesting conversation like this. Just few seconds and we’ve
reached the end of the steps. One of the lights on the wall is flickering
making the hallway seem darker every other minute, but I don’t pay any
attention to it.
“Just answer me”, Morgan commands raising her voice. She’s walking next
to me and I glance at her again. “How many have you killed?”
It’s none of your business. Why the hell should I tell you? But that’s not
what I say to her. “Honestly?” I ask after a short period of silence and she
nods, “I’ve lost count.”
Morgan laughs and I don’t get why. What’s so amusing? “Funny.” The
sarcasm in her voice is shining through brightly. “I’ve never ever killed
anyone. Patrick hasn’t either.” There’s a pause during which she tilts her head
shrugging. “Kaylee, I admit her turning wasn’t as pleasant as yours was and
there were few complications, or so I heard.”
Shivers pass through me as the memory finds its way to my mind. ”You call that
pleasant?” All I can say is that if my
turning was easy one… I’m glad I didn’t experience the harder one. Guess the
fact my blood, which obviously circulates through-out my whole body turns into
something different and unusual it more or less gotta hurt. And it did.
“At least you didn’t get the worst kind of symptoms like she did”,
Morgan points out quirking her eyebrows and I feel a huge wave of victory
hitting me. AHA! I could clap my hands and dance. “It was true then. Witches do become paranoid and start killing
people!” How grateful am I to know for sure that not everything the Centre told
me was a lie? If she admits the paranoia, it has to be true.
We arrive to the kitchen which is a small room that only has what one
needs to make proper meal. There’s a small wooden table in the middle of the
room and few old chairs. You’d think being a member of rich family would have
some sort of effect to the place, but I guess all the money goes to keep the
computers going. I’ve seen glimpses of that place – the main base. Now that’s
the room I’d like to visit for I’m pretty sure it’s the place where all the
files and other information are held. Morgan takes an empty plate from the
table and starts to fill it with food that’s being left on the cooker. I follow
her example.
“I wouldn’t put it that way”, she sighs.
“Then how would you put it?”
“Romy, you gotta understand that the paranoia is only the first step and
not every one even goes that far. She did though”, she says while sitting down
on one of the shaky looking chairs. Oh? I pick the seat in the opposite side
and sit down. “It usually takes only few days to complete that phase and after
that, you’re you again. You didn’t even go through that so be happy.” Again a
pause that makes me feel like she’s about to say something I really don’t want
to hear. It’s the apologizing look on her face that says so… “Though it’s
possible it’ll come later… but we doubt that.” Oh yeah, real assuring.
“Why should I believe you?” Honestly, I don’t know what to believe
anymore. Even now that I know what the Centre has done… killed all those
witches years ago and pretended they were humans killed by witches… it’s hard
to let go of what they have told me. Witches are my enemies - still are because
of everything they’ve done, it’s just that maybe they’re not my enemies for the
right reasons after all. What are the reasons? How can I really be sure that
witches are evil?
These are the kind of moments you start to justify your own actions.
For one, I’ve seen what they can do. I’ve seen them kill people in front
of my eyes, in front of the children of the victims… But now, this sneaky
little witch is saying that it’s a ‘phase’ that’ll pass? I mean, God, how can
you take a piece of information like that even under your consideration? It
turns everything up-side down. All of the sudden, I’m not that hungry anymore.
I put the fork down next to my half full plate and try to drink my water. It’s
going down but not willingly.
“Because deep down, you know I’m not lying.” Oh and how’s that? No, I
don’t know that and you shouldn’t assume that I do! She’s only 18 for heaven’s
sake, you don’t know what kind of lies Patrick has fed to her brain to make her
believe all the things she’s just said to me. As far as I’m concerned she might
be in the same kind of situation I was when I was at her age; being lied to. Brainwashed.
Isn’t it interesting how one little moment can change the way you see
world? It happened when I met my mother, but I buried it. I pretended that what
she told me and what I learnt then was just one side of the truth. What I had
been told since the day I was born; that was the right side of the truth. Now
I’m forced to face the other side of the truth. The one I used to believe is
the wrong one. But when it comes to truth, all the sides are right ones. It’s
the perspective, your own beliefs that make the other one seem wrong.
”All those deaths you claim have been caused by witches could have easily been avoided if you people
weren’t so afraid of what you don’t know. We could live side by side but you
don’t allow that to happen because you think you’re so much better than us. You
rather kill us than understand us. I wonder, Romy, whose fault the war is after
all?”
“No, that’s not true. You kill people and that’s why we hunt you.” Why
they kill is irrelevant because all that matters is that they do! That’s what I
have to keep in my mind and focus on. The Centre may be lying to me about many
things but that’s the one thing that hasn’t changed. A reason or no reason,
they still kill. By accident or on purpose, who cares? Kill is a kill.
“We don’t choose to kill them! You have any idea what it is like to live
feeling like you aren’t alone in your head?”
At the moment?
Yeah I have a pretty damn good image. It’s like I’d be having a conversation
with myself – one which I can’t control. The other half of my brain is yelling
at her things that would make any mother wash her child’s mouth, and the other
side… the other side is making me feel guilty, accusing me of being hypocrite.
Questioning the choices I’ve made and the life I’ve lead.
Still, it doesn’t change the big picture. Maybe they don’t want to kill,
but they do. The reason doesn’t matter when the outcome stays the same. We’re
just trying to survive.
"So what you're saying is that the witch gene brings a whole new
dimension to your character? One that wants to kill?"
I’m making fun of her but she lets it slide. Maybe she hears the desperation in
my voice. “No”, Morgan protests giving me a poisonous glare,
“one that wants to survive."
Oh. I guess that was expected… In some sick level that part does make
sense. How’s that possible, don’t ask me. Witches have been hunted for years
and years and maybe that just feeds their inner-need to survive. So does that
mean we’re the reason behind their killings? God, that’s what I’d call a scary
thought. It’s a circle that never ends, isn’t it. They kill us, we kill them
back, their surviving instincts grow and so we hunt them more. No wonder we
haven’t reached the imaginary finishing line.
”How… How does the gene wake up?”
“We don’t know”, she answers truthfully. Now her voice is normal again,
a bit hesitant maybe. “It just happens. Usually under a lot of pressure because
that effects your body differently than if you’re angry or something else.”
Wait. Of all the things she’s said, this is the one I think I somehow
understand – I’ve heard it before. I think I’ve read about it… yeah, God bless
the Centre and its archives. And when you think of it… I wasn’t feeling that
good when it happened… which reminds me of the fact that I haven’t eaten those
pills for days and I’m feeling perfectly fine. Trey was wrong then – good for
me!
"You mean the reason the gene woke up is cause
I was highly stressed?"
"Yeah, usually it’s mind that’s causing it but to me it looked like
your body was the one doing the stressing”, she nods giving me a questioning
look, “So, what caused it?"
I don’t have to answer for whatever remark I was just thinking of
making, fades away when the siren starts to yell its warnings. Morgan jumps up
so quickly that the chair behind her falls down. “What the hell is that?” I ask
worriedly as if I had never heard a siren before. I don’t know why I’m so
worried. Maybe the Centre has attacked us? If that’s the case… will they let me
explain everything? Would they believe everything I’ve been told to?
Be honest here Romy, I didn’t believe. Why would they? Against all
reason I hope it’s not them. I may be on the Centre’s side but it doesn’t
change how I feel about them… yeah, I’ve seen where they keep witches, I’ve
seen how they treat them. I used to think they deserved it, but I don’t think I
do. I don’t want to go there. Am I making myself exception just because I’ve
worked there? And why do I get the feeling I’m not on their side anymore?
“Something’s wrong.”
“Oh you think?” I snap. Yeah, I thought the siren was pretty obvious
sign when it comes to that. She however ignores my nasty comment and waves her
hand to silence me. As much as I hate to admit it, it works. I look up to her
observing her face to see if I can find explanation shining in her eyes. I
can’t. She’s not one of those you can read easily… too multi-layered on top of
all.
“We have to go to the control room. Now!” She’s
already grabbed my sleeve and pulls me towards the door, making me run through
the hallway to the stairs. I’m already panting when we reach the floor above us
– probably mainly because of shock. She’s pushing me from the back, not wanting
to leave me behind. Maybe the thought of me running away as soon as she turns
her back on me has crossed not only my mind, but hers too. The control room is
on the same floor as my little cell is. Three doors to left – there’s actually
a window on the hallway but usually the curtains are closed so that you can’t
see what’s happening in the protected room.
When we get to the door, Morgan doesn’t even try to hide the code panel
while hitting in the 7 numbered code to open the door. I only catch the 5
numbers with what she finished it though, so it’s not helping me anyway. The
door makes a sound and opens sliding into the wall on its right and before I
know it, Morgan already pushes me rather violently into the room where Patrick
already is with Kaylee. Where are all the other witches I’ve seen roaming
around?
There are papers on the floor, pencils and other stuff offices’ usually
have and only then I look up and realize there’s a figure lying on the big
table that’s against the wall in front of me. It’s a young whimpering girl
whose light yellow shirt has red spots everywhere. The same kind of red marks
that Patrick has on his shirt… face… hands…
everywhere. It’s blood, isn’t it? The young girl is
bleeding! Kaylee’s standing next to her pressing something to her stomach, but
by considering the suffering look on Kaylee’s face I’d say she’s not
progressing. Normally I’d do something myself, but now…
“What the fuck have you done to her?” I jump forward grabbing Patrick’s
arm strongly, forcing him to look at me. Did Patrick finally reach the final
step of his turning? At first he just tries to shove me off, but when my grab
is holding tightly he stops and actually looks me into the eyes. “It’s your
people that did this, not me.” He’s so angry, so full of hate that my grip gets
loose. My people?
“What happened?” Morgan’s already helping Kaylee to try and stop the
bleeding. The sirens are silent, but I can still hear them ringing in my ears.
“I found her at our door”, Patrick answers staring furiously straight at me.
“All I got out of her was that the hunters found her and her home. She’s the
only one who got away.”
“Then it’s not my people”, I throw into the conversation, “my people
finish the job instead of letting the witches flee.” Immediately after saying
it, I regret ever opening my mouth. It’s the young girl’s cries that make me
want to take it back. Somehow, when it was me pulling the trigger I never felt
like this. It truly is about perspectives. Being the one hunting makes you see
things differently. To the old Romy that girl is a target, but to me now… it’s
a young girl dying. Someone like me… No, I’m nothing like her. I’m nothing like
them! I refuse to be.
“I’m sorry”, the whisper comes out without my permission. “I didn’t mean
it like that.”
“Yes you did.” Yeah, I did. I glance at the girl biting my bottom lip.
“Can’t you help her? Heal her?”
If you had told me three years ago that I’d one day end up saying that,
I would’ve laughed at you before putting a bullet through your brain. Put you
down like a dog, remember? And now I’m finding myself hoping the young girl
won’t die there on the dirty table of a pathetic little base. It’s not the kind
of death she deserves, not now, not for another 10 years. Maybe when she’s
older and killed someone.
“I’m trying!” Kaylee replies yelling, ”But your
fucking brilliantly manufactured
bullets are blocking my powers! If we don’t get her to hospital…” Patrick only
has to look at her once to get Kaylee pause. “There’s nothing we can do”, Patrick
says as if the case had been closed already. Who made him the judge? “We can’t
take her to the hospital. It’d be too easy for them to find her… and us and we’d all be dead.”
Technology is what has saved me many times. It’s what we’ve always
counted on; trusted and adored once. Those bullets are part of my success.
Should I feel guilty for feeling
guilty? I try to convince myself, tell myself it’s not my fault. This time I
wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger… and even if I had been the one to hunt her…
Witches are the ones who decided to breed and have children into a world where
even an ordinary child is in danger. They gave her a life to live and it’s
their fault we’re taking it away. Their actions caused this as much as ours.
There really is no good and bad, is there? Just different sides…
Different kind of shades that twist the light.
Is he really going to sacrifice the girl just to save his own ass? What
a goddamn coward! “But… Kaylee, are you sure they could help her there?” This
time the question doesn’t escape, but I let it out. Patrick may not have balls
to do what the situation needs to be done but I sure do. Fuck the reasons, I’ll
do it. “I mean, they don’t have the blood type there and you can’t exactly go
and give yours either…”
Morgan instantly turns around to face us. “No, but you could. Is that
what you’re saying?” She looks doubting. “I think the real question I should
ask is whether you’re willing to go and risk your own life for her? They’d find
you as easily as they would find us.”
//
The radio is broken, every channel is dead; the same with the crappy old
TV. The bulb of the lamp on the night-stand popped yesterday and no one has
bothered to change it yet. Cold water from the shower… and then there’s the cooker
I don’t even dare to try fearing it’ll only burst into flames.
There’s some young couple yelling in the room next-door, but I can’t
hear what they’re saying. A word here and there if I
concentrate hard enough, but nothing more. It’s unbelievable though;
last night they were having sex so loudly that it was impossible for me to
sleep; today they fight so loudly that I feel like kicking the wall to let them
know I’m here. Sounds like newlyweds. Therefore I don’t think kick on the wall
would calm them down, probably it would just make them yell louder.
Not a five-star hotel that’s for sure but it’s something.
The young girl, Chelsea, snores reminding me of what I’ve done. Can’t
believe she can sleep while those idiots yelling on the other side of the wall.
I guess she’s gotten used to it by now and we’ve only been here for couple of
days. Yeah, I’m waiting for her to fully recover and after that we’re out of
the Country. We’ll go somewhere where the Centre has never set its foot. She’s
peacefully lying on the bed, under the warm covers whereas I’m sitting on the
freezing floor under the window hoping I’ll catch some kind of deadly flu.
There’s an armchair on my left side, a little drawer on my right and curtains
behind my back. My little cave; hiding spot. There’s a
full bottle of vodka in my other hand while the other one is busy with
massaging my temples. No, I haven’t drunk from the bottle, but I’m just holding
it and pretending I’m so wasted that the world doesn’t exist anymore. It always
helps.
I guess I was naïve, wishing they’d understand, you know. What can I say
to defend myself? Nothing. It was stupid of me…
Especially when I knew all along the Centre wasn’t going to change it’s
regulations for me, but still I hoped. I tried and that’s the best I could’ve
done.
You see, Patrick, after a lot of yelling and shouting agreed to let me
go. It wasn’t exactly an easy decision for the guy to make, but Morgan and
Kaylee putting pressure on him by accusing him of letting the girl die just to
keep me in there worked wonders. Here we are. Screwed and doomed, but alive.
I don’t know whether I should be proud of myself or what. I did take the
girl to the hospital just like I promised. Fine, okay, technically I didn’t
take her to a real hospital, but to this little practice nearby. What I don’t
get is why they didn’t take her there in the first place; I mean right after
the girl was found? They could’ve gotten there as easily as I did. Maybe
they’re not as intelligent I thought. But hey, I’m not complaining for it
worked fine with me. Till the very moment I called the Centre to make an offer,
that is.
I’m an asshole. So, now the situation has changed and they have the
upper-hand… now they know for sure I’m out here which is definitely not good.
If I hadn’t made that one phone-call, they would still think I’m being held by
Patrick’s and, well, they would’ve hunted him down and made him suffer only to
realize I’m not there. Only God knows why that thought upsets me… I thought I
wanted Patrick and his whole gang to suffer but now I’m not so sure anymore.
Weird thing is, if I had to make the decision all over again, I would
choose differently. I wouldn’t have made the call. Within the two days I’ve
spent taking care of
Maybe I’m just a bit unstable when it comes to my thoughts at the
moment. At first I’m cheering for the Centre, the next I’m cursing them. I
don’t know what I want, but then I do. I’m a mess, both outside and inside.
Anyway, so I took the girl with me and hey, I found out Patrick’s secret
while doing so. You see, Kaylee showed me the way out of the place even though
Patrick was highly against it. It’s the sewers he’s been using to get from one
place to another but for some reason those sewers weren’t marked into our maps,
which is why we had no clue they even existed. Should’ve known though, it’s
always the sewers. It’s where the rats live, is it not?
So, the doctor was a nice young guy – easy one to bend into not
reporting us. The funny thing is the girl healed herself few minutes after the
doctor got the bullet out of her. Of course, I had no choice but to smack the
doctor with some random tool I found lying on his desk, grab the girl and run
to avoid the unneeded questions. Exactly what I did, too.
I don’t know if the Centre knows about it already but I’m hoping the doctor got
some sort of amnesia and forgot we were there. Yeah, really.
I was sure that after seeing his patient’s skin healing within few minutes
after pulling a bullet out of her flesh, he would change his mind and break the
deal. His colleagues wouldn’t probably have believed him, but the Centre
would’ve - will. Skin healing back to normal under your eyes? Not that unusual
if you’re working where I used to do.
I’m thinking that I owe few some big fat explanations to myself. What
the fuck’s wrong with me?
I offered to take the girl to the hospital so that she’d at least have a
chance and it was the right thing to do. Granted, there was and still is a
chance of the Centre finding us… and they probably will, it’s just a matter of
time but if she had stayed on that rat hole she would’ve been dead for sure.
I’d like to say I did it only to save myself, because that’s what the hunter in
me would’ve done, but I didn’t. I did it for her too as much as for myself and that screws up everything. The hunter within me reevaluated
the situation. By being the one to take her to the hospital I figured I could
earn my freedom. They can’t force me go back there; I’m on my own now. How I’m
going to survive out here is a whole another issue waiting to be solved, but
not today... And how the hell am I going to take care of
It was rather difficult to get Patrick let me go. At first he refused to
even listen to my words and just told me to shut up. Good thing that I didn’t.
He’s so stubborn when it comes to the solutions he believes are the right ones.
I swear to God that after knowing and hating him for what, three days if you
don’t count the ones we’ve been here with
“You said you’d let me go
after I know the facts! I know them now. You’re evil, we’re evil and this war
between us is not going to change it. You kill us, we kill you right back and
that’s how the story goes. Just let me go and do this one thing for you.”
It wasn’t a lie I told him, not that I’d owe him anything. I just want
the war to end and I don’t want to be part of it anymore. Not on the Centre’s
side, not on the witches’ side either, but on my own side. I’m not a hunter
anymore and I’m not a witch either, I’m Romy. Just Romy! If I have to change my
name again, God help me. The last thing I need is another identity problem to
fuck up my head.
“Let you go so that you can
come back and kill us? I’m not letting you so that you can go back to the
Centre. I’m not.”
I could’ve told him that I’m not going back to the Centre but I didn’t want to give
him the satisfaction of knowing how I feel. Besides, he wasn’t completely off
the map for I would’ve simply traded
”I’m not your problem.”
“Your work is.”
So? Doesn’t he get that I’m not the only hunter in the
world? By keeping me there he would’ve only provoked them to try harder. I’m
somewhat sure both Trey and Raven are willing to do anything to get me back and
the Centre… well it wants me too but not for the same reasons. Hopefully.
”You think they’ll let me
work after this? I’m not one of them anymore, physically I mean.”
And not mentally either but I’m not telling you that! Yeah, I’m done. Done with all the secrets and lies, done with all the hunting that
never leads anywhere. A hunter knows when to retire – it’s when what
you’re doing doesn’t make sense anymore. Three years ago, it still did. Now it
doesn’t. I’m off.
”Are you admitting that you
don’t see us as enemies anymore?”
What a joke. He just doesn’t get it, does he?
“No, you’re my enemies. All
I’m saying is that this all is as much as our fault as it is yours.”
They’re all my enemies. The Centre, the witches, every other being that
isn’t me is a threat to me now.
“You kill us because you
want to, we don’t.”
And that’s the one thing they keep throwing at my face over and over again. Yes
you’ve said that already, many times, no, you don’t need to repeat yourself ten
times to get it through. I got it.
”Let me go.”
“There’s nothing you can
do. Our only chance to survive is to keep you here.”
Oh please. There are few rather important facts he doesn’t seem to be aware
of.
”No it’s what gets you
killed. There’s an angry lover and my best friend fighting for me.”
Eventually, after Morgan and Kaylee joined the debate he gave in.
Morgan, being young and naïve, thought I could talk with the Centre and try and
make them understand their side of the story. Explain them the truth behind the
‘phases’ and all… What she doesn’t understand is that the Centre already must
know it all. I was just never allowed to know it too. She was so sure I could
convince them into living in peace with the witches. Even Patrick realized how
ridiculous her fantasies were and told her to be quiet. I never, not for a
minute thought I could talk reason with the Centre, but I did think I could
make a simple trade. Why not? They have hundreds of witches to study, why would
they need me? I’m not special, am I?
They already had me fooled there you know. I should’ve known better
after all those years I spent there.
Winch, he was saying how the trade could be done, I would give them
Chelsea and the Foley siblings, but then I called Raven to tell him the news
and he told me how things really are. Turned it all around… He said they tried
to trick me. That he and Trey had been ordered to bring me home no matter what… Now they being the ones to hunt me didn’t
surprise me all that much. The Centre has this weird way of thinking and that’s
why they always test you. Test you to see where your loyalties lie. They
wouldn’t have let me go even if I had given them what they wanted, because I’m
too important. Why? Is there something more I don’t know?
Without any kind of warnings,
Blowing the air out of my lungs, I let my head fall back to lean against
the wall and close my eyes. Listening to Chelsea’s heavy breathing has the same
kind of calming effect as listening to Trey’s breathing has. Yeah,
Trey. He pops into my mind every other minute even though I try my best
to block him out. I haven’t spoken to him since the day we entered that bar
though I’ve been thinking of paying him a visit more than 24 times a day. I
haven’t even dared to call him. I mean, what am I gonna
say? Had nice time with you while it lasted and all, but it’s over now. I
always knew we had no future together anyway; it was him who kept those stupid
delusions alive by feeding them with all those plans he made for our future. Poor guy. I’m trying so hard to convince myself that in the
end, he just wanted to have fun and that I don’t really need him to survive. I
can take care of myself. Then why is it that I’d want to wake tomorrow into a
whole new day… and find myself from his bed?
Life goes on…
“Open the door, Romy!”
…And occasionally, it comes back to haunt you.
Note: In case you didn’t get it, the sentences in
italics are quotes from the conversation Patrick and Romy HAD before he
agreed to let her go.
A/N: Confusing? So it should be.