it ends with august

t h i r t y - e i g h t

My ears were ringing, they haven't run this hard since I was seventeen. I remember the teenage events of my life like the back of my hand, years of blood on my hands the things I would've done- no the things I've done. I think that's the bells ringing in my head, my time is almost up.

The brick stone house of the Knight family estate is half burning in flames while this is the only building that stands strong. Bodies of unloyal men lay all around the ground, blood-seeking through the carpets.

The house is quiet, I always hated quiet. My mind stayed blank and free for years it was so quiet I craved for a choas to start. Estella was a beautiful wild mess, and I craved her for years.

Knight empire burn to the ground, and his men are dead like what I wished for I have everything I wanted, while he has nothing.

I wanted him to suffer, it was hard to do so because he already was broken. Edging the knife deeper and deeper, his tears could fill an ocean. Torturing him every way he did, Estella's mother, Grey, Spencer, and Estella but also every girl he's touched.

His laughter turn into screams until he was on his knees begging. I could hear him, late at night preaching to the lord, to Estella. I was trying to understand the feelings he had for her, he praised her like she was a god, the best thing he's created.

And that everything he did to her, was right and he had to.

Knight is strapped to a metal chair, the chair itself bolted to the floor in the middle of his home, the very home where his empire started.

He shakes in his seat, water dripping him from the ice bucket of water that was thrown at him, keeping him aware this is real. I couldn't break his mind, I had already done without being near him, for three weeks having him stressed when I was coming to attack.

I let Grey come back, and do whatever he did to him. He branded him, a hot iron rod pushed into his skin with Grey's name branded across his back.

I enjoyed hearing him scream in agony, watching him lose his mind coming back every day not letting him get the chance to run away, it was judgment day.

"Mark 9:43 And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire." I let my butcher knife hot on the edges from the blow torch run slice through his wrist, putting more force as I got to the bone.

His screams echo throughout the house, a small grin touching my lips. I wasn't holding back, no meds in the world could keep the unsettling rage in

"2 Peter 2:4 For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment," I start, jerking his chin up, "It's judgment day, Knight,"

"You know nothing of the lord," Knight spoke, his voice so weak it made a scratching sound in my ears, "You sinned more than me, and you will not be free from your sins,"