The End of Her World

Chapter Thirty Three

There was a crunch, and the sickly sound of a hard object smashing through flesh, followed by the sound of liquid splashing to the ground. A man grunted in pain. Tears were running down Katrina's face in plentiful sprigs. She shut her eyelids tight, wishing away the gory scene that lay out in front of her. Jason managed to look up, his face a taut mask of blood, bone and pain. His eyes were small, sunken into his face. Blood welled from his nose, and dribbled from between his lips.

"Stop!" she screamed.

The man wielding the whip and club paused, resting the whip against his hip. "What do you want, bitch?"

"What do you want to know?" she shouted. It was ineffective, she had already asked the same question once before.

The man stared down at her, no trace of regret in his slimy eyes. He coiled the whip, spraying Jason's blood in an arc. He hung it on his belt, and knelt, staring at Katrina, his face a twisted death mask. "Now," he said. "Why would I ever tell you that?" He raised his hand, and backhanded her with the force of a truck. Green spots exploded across her vision, dancing like fairy lights, flaring, taunting. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and her tongue probed her split lip.

Sucking up mucus from the back of her throat, Katrina spat, the globule of blood and spit into the man's throat. The man did not react in the slightest as the discharge splattered him on the face. He wiped it from his nose, preventing it from dripping down into his mouth.

"Fine." The man stood, his foot catching on the metal drain that pierced the blood stained floor. "You want to play like that?" He reached for his pistol, and clicked a bullet into the chamber. He seized the weapon, and aimed it at Jason's forehead. "So," he said calmly, as if this was normal. "Why did you come here? Who are you looking for?"

"Fade!" gasped Katrina, desperate. "Teague Brooks!"

The man remained motionless as he processed the information. Then he reached for the door handle, and swung it open casually. He turned on his heel, and shot Jason in the heart.                                                                                                             

"Noooo!" the scream tore from Katrina's throat, unrefined, so loud that her voice broke, and blood slicked the back of her throat. She stared incoherently at the body of her father, writhing in a growing puddle of his own blood.

"Katrina," the name barely slipped from Jason's lips. His eyes fixed on her with a feverish intensity. "I love you. Don't let them take you. Don't let my death to be used against you. Save Fade, leave me!" He coughed, and his bruised face twisted with pain. "And now," he murmured, turning his head toward the merciless ceiling. "For the greatest adventure of all."

Katrina felt an iron hard lump jump into her throat, and the pain hit her like a hammer blow. She sat by, twisting, at her restraints, wailing in grief. She could only watch in horror as the wounds took their toll, the air around him took on an evil humor. His skin grew pale from loss of blood, and every one of his breaths sounded like a death rattle.

Katrina sat, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face, watching in agony as her father died. She refused to let herself fall asleep. Pain wound talons around her heart, and as minutes crawled into hours, Katrina slipped unwillingly into sleep.

She woke with a jolt, goose bumps running up and down her arms. She blinked, attempting to clear the sleep from her eyes. She looked around wildly, searching for her father. Nothing remained of her father, except a dark crimson puddle of blood draining slowly into the metal grate. Katrina squeezed her eyes tight.

Vaguely, she realized blood was running down her hands, and her wrists were raw with rope burns. Shifting, she grasped that her knife was still sheathed at her hip. Curling her hand so she could take hold of the handle, she began the arduous task of sawing off her rope bonds. Every time that an image of Jason would burst into her head, a fresh wave of pain would spike into her skull, a series of intracranial firecrackers that would not expire shortly, so she thought of nothing else but sawing through the rope that bound her to the chair.

Finally, she severed the cable, and freed her arms, and flexed her hands and lower arms to regulate circulation again. Gripping the knife, Katrina bided her time, kindling her pain and anger into a tidal wave.

Finally, the door swung open. Katrina did not move fast, she did not move slowly. She moved at the speed of light, or so it seemed to the soldier that had been ordered to check on her. He only saw a blur of light, and then there was pain in the back of his neck, before everything sank into darkness.

Katrina was out the door into a sterile hallway, and fuzzily, remembered Fade's cell number. She ran blindly, the numbers of the cells posted on the walls flashing by. Suddenly, there was a tall dark shape in front of her. She slashed out blindly, but a hand caught her wrist, and twisted it. Pain lanced up her arm, and the knife clattered to the ground.

She looked up into the dark eyes of Fade.

"Fade-" Her words were cut off as his large rough hands cupped her heart shape face, leaning in slowly toward her. The hands of time stopped as Katrina and Fade's lips finally met, their lips and emotions transporting them to another world, softly closing her eyes, Katrina was desperate to grasp this precious memory, the kiss was so gentle but captivating, the both of them pouring all their love as their lips moved in perfect harmony, the sparks flying made Katrina dizzy, the universe seemed to disappear as Fade and Katrina became lost in a sea full of lust and love. As their lips pulled apart, a gentle breeze fluttered over the flame fanning the desperate heat. Katrina's breathing came out in short, desperate gasps. The intensity has washed away. The rest of the world was slowly coming back into focus.

"I love you," she whispered into his chest, rippling with scars.

"That's sweet of you," a cold voice emanated from behind Fade, and he swallowed hard as a blade of a knife was pressed up to his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed. A line of blood appeared on his neck, dripping down onto his collarbone. The knife tightened, and Fade knelt, his hands on his head, his eyes dim with horror.

Cooper stood behind him, his eyes burning with rage, and psychotic rage. Katrina felt hatred well up inside her. This monster was the reason that Jason was dead. She adjusted her control over her knife.

"This ends now!" snarled Cooper. "You chose me, Katrina. You chose my over this piece of shit when we fucked!"

"No," responded Katrina. "You're a monster. You're going to die, Cooper, and burn in hell for your murderous deeds." Cooper's eyes widened as she raised the knife. He tried to pull his own sharp edge of his dagger across Fade's neck. But the knife had already impaled itself in Cooper's skull. Blood fountained across the room.

Fade swayed.

Katrina wrapped her arms around him.

They ran.

According to genre, they escaped, and lived happily ever. But life isn't like that. Katrina had lost. No matter how much she had won. She had still lost.

Fade and Katrina escaped. But there was no happy ending. There never is.