ROGUE

75 : Up In Flames

Jason's POV

"Fucking look at me."
I smashed my clenched fist around Archie's face, and his head swung to the side, his veins pulsing in his neck.
A sickening cracking sound echoed through the empty warehouse, and a familiar pain spread through my already-damaged knuckles.
He groaned in pain, and tried to wriggle out of the scratchy thick ropes that were restraining him to a chair.
I jabbed my fist into his stomach. "And stay still." I hissed, hatred and anger dripping from my sinister tone.

It had been around twenty minutes since I had literally kidnapped this guy from his house and transferred him to one of the local warehouses that my gang and I often used to finish people.
It must've been around midnight, so I doubted that his mom had even realised he wasn't asleep in bed, and I knew there would be no 'missing person' reports until the next day - and by then, it would be too late.

Archie spat out a clump of blood which landed next to his feet. "W-what do you want from me." He heaved, sweat glistening on his bloody forehead. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" I seethed, my patience running thin. I glared at him in disbelief, unable to process the fact that he even had the nerve to ask. I inched closer to him and the fear in his eyes dramatically rose. "You killed my daughter."

Archie looked stunned, and tears began to well in his pale eyes. "No..." He whispered, shaking his head furiously. "No I didn't. I'm not a murderer." He said breathlessly. "I would never kill anybody."

"Then fucking explain to me why my she's dead." I growled, my adrenaline seemed to deaden the pain that I should've felt after saying those words. I felt so emotionless and it fucking scared me; I was beginning to feel the way I had felt before Y/n became part of my life...

Numb.

I wasn't severely depressed; and I never really had been.
But my past, my family, my life style and my name always managed to find a way to pull me down. I had learnt that getting too close to people gets you hurt, which is why I never really associated myself with anyone after my sister died.
Y/n, however, was the exception.

"I don't know who you're talking about!" Archie pleaded, tears began to stream down his face, but they did not make me want to change my mind about what I was about to do to this guy.

"You punched my girlfriend," I reminded him, my voice sounding sinister. "My pregnant girlfriend."

Archie's eyes widened in realisation, despite the fact that he was intoxicated on the night it happened, he still seemed to remember.
When he eventually spoke, I could tell that he knew what was coming. "Oh my god." He whispered, his bottom lip trembling.

I shook my head and sighed, before grabbing an empty crate and pulling it in front of him.
The plastic screeched against the floor, sending shudders through my body. I then sat down on it and interlaced my fingers. "You could never understand the pain you've caused my girlfriend." I said.

"I was drunk," He coughed, squirming at the uncomfortable ropes that were tied tightly around him. "I never meant to hurt anyone."

"That baby," I began, swallowing the sudden lump of emotion that I felt. "Was the one thing that brought us back together. And now she's gone." I muttered lowly, thinning my eyes into slits. "Because of you."

"Nothing you say is gonna bring her back," Archie began to sob. "There's nothing I can do but apologise." He whimpered.

"Apologise? Do you think an apology is gonna make everything better?" I said through gritted teeth.

"What else can I say?" Archie's blue eyes zeroed on the ground and his voice was barely audible. "I'm sorry."

I stood up as the last of my patience wore away.
"I don't forgive you."

I wasted no time to pick up the red can of gasoline that was on the floor beside me.
Somehow, Archie hadn't noticed it before, but when his eyes fell upon it, he saw what was coming and let out a scream.
"NO!" He pulled against the ropes desperately as I screwed off the lid. "PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING."

Without even considering any other options, I poured the liquid over him as he begged, and I clenched my jaw at the sudden irrelevant thought of Y/n witnessing me do something like this. I didn't want to tell her about tonight's events, so I was going to keep quiet unless something was brought up.

Without another word, I pulled a box of matches from my pocket and mindlessly lit one. The tiny flame danced on the end of the stick, and I wondered how something so small could do something so harmful.

I glanced at Archie for a moment, before shaking my head and throwing the lit up matchstick at his drenched body.
The whole of him instantly lit up with bright orange flames and he screamed out in pain.

I began to watch as he burned, the roaring flames singed Archie's flesh and caused it to blacken, but even doing something this inhumane didn't make me feel any better about my daughters death.

Nor my sister's.

It felt like I was reliving the pain of losing her, and I think that was the part that really hurt the most.

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thanks for reading

i'm sorry this was so violent but uno

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