The Most Powerful (The Wrath)

Chapter 3 (The Silence Of My Good Deeds)

"So what, Chambers? I'm supposed to do what destiny pleases me to do? Which, if you haven't noticed, is God's doing. And if he's anything like you, I don't want to bow down." I went to shove him one-handed while speaking to him, to which he transported.

"Don't ever touch me, okay?" He threatened. "I don't want any of you touching me."

"Why?" I laughed mockingly.

"Because you're all impure and unholy." I rolled my eyes at the narcissistic, self-righteous bastard. He is so full of himself. "Now, straighten up. Your True Love's arriving any second."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Am I going to get weak at my knees? When we look into each other's eyes, the stars align," I spoke in fake remanence. "Our hearts intertwine as one?" I looked up to the ceiling dreamily, causing Chambers to turn away in agitation as I laughed mockingly.

It was almost like I could feel it when he walked in. There was a connection drawing me to him. My heart even skipped a beat when I saw him. He had a tall, lanky body, yet lean. He stood about six feet tall, as I looked up from at least five feet. His face was gorgeous, but in a boyish sense. His shaped brown hair went with his olive green jacket. His smirk with the most adorable dimples fell on me as he looked me up and down, taking in the view.

"Yeah, sorry. This just won't do," I stated, throwing a blade to his throat. He staggered to his knees as he choked on his blood, the look of revenge in his grey/blue eyes. He quickly died, therefore I knew exactly where to hit.

"What happened to you?" Chambers questioned in shame of my behavior, maybe even guilt because he was a big cause to it.

"You happened. Angela happened. I adapted your ways for survival. And I never got to thank you for ruining my life," I smiled, more mischievous and fake. "You did me well. You opened my eyes to reality. And this significant other thing is not reality. This," I pointed to "Parker's" body. "This is reality. Betrayal, pain, death. There's no escaping it. It's eat or get eaten. It's live with it, or join it. I made the smart choice."

"No, Candice, you're making the wrong one. You'll go to Hell."

"Been there, done that," I mocked his warning. "Thing is, I really couldn't care less anymore. You see, nothing scares me. Not death," I shook my head, stepping towards him. "Not Hell, and certainly not a pathetic boy like him."

"Then why did you kill him?"

I couldn't help but to smile bluntly, Chambers growing more worrisome each moment of my carelessness.

"Because it was fun," I breathed on his face, to which he flew back from my unholiness. Damn right. I'll be the wicked witch of God's little saints, if that's what it takes to get everyone off my case.

Carmine

I woke up again with Micheal's face pressed to mine after I had fallen asleep and must have stopped cuddling. He was the clingiest person I've ever met, I swear... I was forced to tolerate his displays of ridiculous amounts of affections, but that was something I would do. I had to remind myself that he's never been loved, so he seeks much reassurance. I also had to tolerate his twitching from night terrors at times.

"How can you love me?" He mumbled, his eyelids hardly lifted open when he confronted me as though he was half asleep. He did this almost every night. Ask questions about us because he couldn't believe someone like me could truly love him. But I did, with all of my heart.

"Because you were once a victim, Micheal. We all were."

"But I've became the biggest monster yet," he spoke quietly, his voice drifting closer to slumber. I brushed his black hair from his face, cradling his head with my arms. "I've done things, Carmine. Things worse than Hitler."

My heart pattered at that thought. I hated Hitler and his followers so much for everything they've done to my family and friends. To anyone, for that matter. How could I love Micheal? It's like I'm betraying myself, my morals.

"You've already found a way into my heart, Micheal," I answered honestly. "You've suffered for your damage." I traced a finger lightly over his arm where the burn scars cascaded. But at least they were scars now.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbled under his breath, eyes closed now. I simply shushed him, tracing my finger down his naked chest as he whimpered and moaned in strain to keep awake for minutes, until he finally caved in, his expression flawless to my eyes.

I still had hope for him no matter what anyone says about Micheal. They saw a Devil; I saw a man trying to block himself from heartache by making others fear him. And everyone did. But I wouldn't. Not after seeing this side of him.