Glorify Bad (ON HOLD)

Chapter Nineteen - Headlights

        Corrine had once again been left alone in the Finch home. She sat in the living space as usual at this time of night with her wine in hand.  She was lonesome, so lonesome she had actually considered leaving the home. Perhaps visiting Angela would help ease the growing hole inside of her, even though she did truly hate the woman with every deep passion Corrine could muster. Michael had promised a visit before going home that night, since he had been spending quite a bit of time at the station recently. She missed him dearly.

Michael had let himself into the home at arrival. He was dressed in uniform per usual and entered the living space where Corrine had been seated by the fireplace.

“How are you, love?” Michael leaned against the archway of the room, watching as the woman gazed at the flames.

“Lonely.” She spoke.

Michael frowned, not wanting his lover to feel alone. He seated next to her, wrapping an arm around her with the other palm to her cheek. “I don’t want you to feel alone, Corrine.”

“My son hates me.” Corrine squeaked, fighting back pitiful tears. “How else am I supposed to feel?”

“He’s going through…. a lot right now. You of all people should understand that.”

Corrine pursed her lips. “He’s all I have left, darling.”

Michael stroked her prominent cheek bone. “You have me, love.”

Corrine gave a crooked, red lipped smile to the man, pecking his lips to hers.

“I suppose I have something to show you.” She spoke close to his lips. He pulled back a bit, looking into her eyes, waiting for her to speak. She took her face away from his, standing from the couch and began to travel towards the staircase, Michael was hesitant to follow.

She reached the end of the hallway, then turned to the man behind her

“What’s this about?” Michael touched her soft, curled hair.

“I hope you won’t be angry with me, even though we had already disused this.”
Michael stared at her in dismay. She turned to grip of the attic, opening welcoming stairs.

“Corrine…” Michael breathed.

“Go.” She ordered him first to walk the steps, which he did. As he made his way, it was pitch black in the attic, and smelt of dust and sweat.

Corrine stepped around him, pulling the light in the center of the room to illuminate the girl seated in a wooden chair.

“My God, Corrine. What the fuck is this?” Michael rushed to the passed out girl’s side, keeping a wrist over his nose since the wound along her neck had been quite fresh and leaked of black blood.

“What? You told me I could.”
“I didn’t know you’d follow through with it. She’s burning up.” Michael touched her sweaty forehead. “Her pulse is rapid.” He touched her roped wrists. “She needs antibiotics now.”

Corrine stood, confused.

“Now, Corrine. She’ll die. She has a blood infection that needs to be treated or she won’t make it through the night.”
“Why on Earth does it matter to you, Michael?” Corrine cocked her head.

“She’s still a person, Corrine. I understand completely but… I can’t just let her die in here. Too many have died in here.”

Corrine clenched her jaw at his last sentence ‘Too many have died in here.’ She rubbed her arms as though she were cold, staring around the room.