A Tale Of The Hearts: The Memory Forgotten

Chapter~ 38

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P.s. Read the torturing part with the song I had put!😉

Dante's POV:

"Yes. I want to see him die, but I want him to die by my hands," She stated.

I knew that she wanted to see him die, but listening to her, wanting to kill that bastard herself, was far from what I expected.

"Charlotte, witnessing someone get killed in front if your eyes and killing someone with your hands, both can be traumatizing. I don't want you to choose any of them. I don't know if you can manage to hold yourself together. The last thing I want to witness is you beating yourself. My soul can't handle seeing you break." I expressed, meaning, everything I said by heart.

Despite my stupid decision, I only meant to show her the dead body of that piece of shit. I would never want her to witness me taking someone's life, let it be anyone or that asshole. I can't traumatize her even more than she already is.

"Do you really think seeing him die or killing him will make me traumatized? That's funny of you to think. Killing him is nothing compared to what he had put me through. Not once, but many times. So, I want to kill him and I will kill him. That's the only way my soul will feel at ease." She pressed her thoughts. Her gaze was enough for me to know that she meant what she said. Those captivating eyes of hers, now had a crazy look. With those captivating yet crazy eyes, she was pleading me to accept her decision.

For that matter, I decided, exactly, to do that. I will accept her decision, even though I should not. But, perceiving her desperateness made me lose my sense between right and wrong.

"If that's what you want, I will accept your decision. But know, it's never too late to stop." I offered.

"Thank you" I smiled at her, pulling her in my embrace.

Kissing the crown of her head, I said, "After we close this chapter forever from our lives, I will be by your side to support you. You won't be going through anything alone, we are in everything together."

"I love you"

"I love you"

*~•~*

(T.W: Violence)

“Are you ready?” I asked. My hand holding hers, which was shaking from nervousness.

“Yes. I have come this far, now I can't turn back. I don't want to.” I nodded at her.

Unlocking the door, we went in with our hands locked together.

There, in the middle of the dark and eerily quiet room, was him. Bloody and bruised, chained up to the chair tightly.

He tilted his head up, hearing our footsteps echoing through the room.

Bruises and wounds lit up his whole face and body. His back was intolerably whipped. Just like he did to hers. His nails were hammered with screws. Hands were skinned. And, other few burning marks from the hot iron rod.

“Charlotte? Please help me. That man with you, he did all this to me. Please help me” His weeping irked my ears, making my fists clench.

“Shh! Be a good boy, won't you? Nothing will happen if you try to be a good boy.” Charlotte stood in front of him, and with a sickly sweet grin, she cooed.