Fractured

Chapter 68

"I'm going to hurt him," I heard a voice, the same one again say.  Only this time, it was nearly in a whisper.  But I knew well enough it was Clare.  I was so close... I went more than slow now, my eyes straining to the right to hopefully see something.  I didn't yet, even as I noticed the couch and the chair slowly move into my view.  Both were empty. More noticeable was the condition of the house even more than just the bullet holes. 

There was dust, dirt, cement pieces and dry wall laying all over the floor.  The furniture, I could just see, was laced with bullet holes too.  That is if the furniture was still in place - unlike the lamps and TV, broken shards all over and the items themselves on the floor.  It was a terrible sight - but one I paid no mind to.  I just took note I didn't see them yet but could hear her.  Clare's voice was close.  Her words she said didn't make me feel any better.  I could tell she must be talking about Francis.  Especially when I heard a shaky and tear-filled voice reach my ears that I knew to be Luke's.  It felt like it literally broke my heart in half at his voice and those words.

"You're such a liar... You-You're lying.  You hurt him..." he said in a choke and it made me cringe, made me want to cry.  I didn't see either of them yet.  But since neither were in my sight yet, I could tell they had to be by the stairs then.  My hand gripping the shovel tightened on instinct.

"Oh I will.  I promise you... I will hurt him, just like I am hurting... you.  I will kill him.  Because you betrayed me," she said in a breathy voice, one that was shaky and hurt, filled with tears among her insane words she was speaking.  I could hear the tears in her voice, making her sound groggy or raspy almost.  But unlike his tears, hers were heavier and over her love she had for Luke.  She was letting it all out I could hear.... And soon, I was able to see too.

 I slowly and  finally managed to see them.  I reached the corner of the hall, and when I looked around the edge and towards the stairs, I saw them.  And if it wasn't for my hard grip on the shovel, I probably would have dropped it.  Hell, I'm lucky I didn't break down then and there.  I was shocked I was able to stop myself from charging her then and there. Maybe because all my mental strength went into taking in what was before my eyes....

My... my stomach.  It dropped.  My love for him soared... and... my hate for her was never so full before.  My legs were shaky.  And I bit my lip to stop myself from making a sound - at her and what I saw before me.  And that was of Luke.  Of him handcuffed to the end of the railing of the stairs, low to the ground.  He was laying flat on the ground too for the most part besides his hands trapped above his head on the railing.  His shoulders were also propping up against the wall that cut off to the first steps but the rest of him was stretching out before him.  He was even laying facing this direction so I had a good visual - of his body and face and what exactly was happening.

His shirt was removed and his chest wasn't just bare... but bloody too.  Bloody and moving hard with a ridged breath he inhaled and exhaled hard.  It made my stomach turn as I looked him over.  Blood purposefully smeared, thick and thin all over him.  His blood.  But I also noticed the side of his face was bleeding too in a long and one way stream down the side of the face and jaw, dripping from a large cut.  If that wasn't enough for me to take in and punch me in the gut, there was more; more caught my attention. Not only was he shaky, and a few tears were streaming now, I saw it wasn't with his eyes open.  They were closed, as if refusing to look at her or accept this was happening. 

I couldn't blame him either.  Because she was so close to him.  She was laying on the floor with him and his arms cuffed above him, her stomach pressed into his side.  Her back was towards the TV more so I figured if I could make it in that direction, I could hit her hard without her even seeing me beforehand.  But that thought took a bit to come to me; I was too taken over at taking it in to process much else.  Because it was then that I saw why his chest and bare stomach was so bloody.  Clare, her head resting on his chest as she was laying with him, she was tracing his skin over with her famous knife.  Just slightly this time, aimlessly smering the blood over him with the side of it.  The sick bitch... like she was buttering his in his blood.  It made him appear worse than he was, I knew, but it still made me feel just as hurt as he appeared. Her clothes with her hair were soaked in his blood since she was against him too I noticed.  But she didn't seem to mind.  I think this was her sick and twisted way of saying goodbye.