The Rape of Proserpine

The Rape of Proserpine Chapter Seventeen

“My brother loves you.” I tried to battle against the tide of emotions welling up in my chest and tried to destroy and overcome the slight tug it caused. What he did to me already gave that away. “It’s a pity that he never had the courage to tell you. You knew how terribly shy he could be.”

“Is that it?”

“No.” She paused. We both figured we were in dangerous territory now. “But it was the seed that gave birth to all the tragedy that happened. His perverted love for you.”

“Or your hate for his perverted love for me,” I said through hard-clenched teeth.

Emma shook her head like she would to a child. “Your love for Marel made you do things you couldn’t ever be proud of. I did the same for my brother. Somehow, we’re kindred spirits. We are alike.”

I shuddered at the mere suggestion. “That’s bullshit.”

“You and I are afflicted with a painful, incurable disease called love. More than anybody else you should be the one to understand that I did what I did to save my brother.”

“And saving your brother meant killing my own brother? “ She flinched. She did not expect the bluntness and the sharp edge of my accusation. I saw a crack and I’d be doomed if I let it slip away. “How could-“

“It was your life or Calvin’s,” she interjected, cheeks flushed and golden curls tossed to the side. “It was never my intention to hurt anybody. Especially not Marel. I made a choice and I chose Calvin. I’d do it again if I had to.” She was worked up now, almost pleading. Pleading for what, though? Forgiveness? Absolution?

“You are not sorry.”

“No I am not,” she confirmed.

At that moment, I have found God in my own personal way.

My hands found their way around Emma’s neck, squeezing the breath and life out of her. She was thrashing and gasping and clawing at my face. Her eyes, crystal blue and bright, bulged out of their sockets in fear and terror. I squeezed tighter, enjoying all the little, mournful sounds coming from her. Harder. Gratifying. More and more pressure came from my fingers and every little change in her expression and the noises were lifting me up higher and higher to God knew where. I never realized I was grinning. It all just felt good. Too pleasurable. Something I could get used to. To hold someone else’s life at the palm of my hands and play with it. To have the opportunity to actually take it away for good. To be powerful. The angel of death personified in me. Fun. Yes, the fun of doing the ultimate evil ever known to mankind. It was what I longed for ever since Marel vanished. Payment. And I wanted it now and I would take it whatever way I desired.

“Die, Emma! Fucking die!”

But it all ended too soon. My eyes blurred and a terrible pain swallowed my head. Before I could properly register the situation, my knees trembled and I fell to the ground with visions of Calvin’s face swimming in my brain. Then everything turned black. Everything hurt. And then nothingness.

XXXX

I woke up from the sound of hazy voices, like I did several times before. The only difference this time was the urgency in the air. So much of it that I was breathing it in and out. And then I knew that something was about to happen. Something bad. Something horrible.

… and when I crash-landed, it was hard and shattering…close our eyes and wait for the impact.

“No! Please, I beg you, don’t do this! No! No! No!” Calvin. He was in between crying and begging. Over and over all I could hear were his screams that ‘No, they shouldn’t do this.’ I attempted to sit up but the muscles in my body burned. I groaned. I couldn’t move. I was tied carefully to the bed, limiting any form of movement.