" you're fucking crazy "
---
aurora astor.
Consciousness gradually spills into my mind, and yet again I'm wishing it never came back to me because this reality is far worse.
It pounds like a hammer splintering against my skull. I painfully groan under my breath, pinching my eyes further shut with a strained inhale.
My breathing shallows just as awareness floods my limbs, zoning into the numbness lingering within my muscles locked behind my back pinned to a familiar metal lattice of some sort.
My eyes flutter open in abrupt alarm, nearly choking on an unsteady breath as darkness surrounds every inch of me. It furls around me, seeping deep into me as it begins to haunt me like it did that night on the cold, barren floor of the warehouse — so far from home.
And that's when I realize just where I am: the Pit.
Liam's betrayal floods my mind like a flashback, reeling like a haunted tape working its way through every crevice of my mind until it wells in my throat. It locks itself into the confines of the places that's seen the best and worst of me.
"No, fuck ... no–" I weakly struggle in my own company of the ring's daunting walls caving in on me with every ram of my erratic heart into the cages of my ribs.
But the pressure subduing my mind seems to cascade its effects to the rest of my body, aching through every inch of me.
"Sunshine," a trembling voice faintly pours through my ears beside me, relief and gut-wrenching shock hitting me simultaneously.
Mia.
My heavy eyes, aching from the effects of the blow to the temple from the barrel of that gun, snap to my right to see a cascade of swirling stars. And that ball in my throat constricts just as my chest does, surrendering my stomach to hollow out at the sight of a silhouette.
In just the same position I'm in, but her knees tucked against her chest and her arms bound by the very same zip-ties holding me hostage — preserving every last bit of herself together in that spot.
Her eyelids are deeply heavy from what I could possibly make out in the dark as if she could just surrender to the walls crushing on us at any moment.
She's still wrapped up in her hospital scrubs, her springing curls wrapped in a lazy bun, and my stomach bottoms out at the thought of just how long she's been here.
"Fuck, Mia," I whimper in restraint, "we're going to get out of here, okay? We're fine."
An exasperated groan grates from between my teeth, tugging at the zip ties clawing into my skin long enough for it to settle an ache at my bound wrists.
"I was just leaving work ..." her voice trembles in utter weakness enough to splinter through my facade and shatter my hope entirely. "I was just ... we were going to walk the pier ... and watch the sun come up over the water. I don't know, talk over coffee about his latest read or ... something other than this ... again." Her voice breaks in her own daze, already long-engulfed in the spiral.
My panic crescendos by the second in cadence with her own as she begins to crumble, determined to prove the fucked-up rules wrong for once.
"Mia, it's okay, we'll–" a frustrated grunt puffs from my lips as I attempt to slip my wrists from the ties cinched around me but the task proves itself near impossible. "We're going to be alri–" my hopeless words come crashing to a halt the second the doorway to the ring slams open and the blinding lights flood my retinas from above.
Mia yelps in fear while I squint my eyes away from the sudden light, flinching at the mere sound. My eyes gradually adjust to the white fluorescents, perceiving none other than Moore himself.
My entire body becomes taut, jaw locking into place as he steps into the hostage of the ring. And my unsteady breathing flat lines at the sight of an oddly familiar blonde, trailing behind Moore.
"Oh, don't give me that look, sweetheart, you only have yourself to blame for not listening to me." He mewls.
He clutches a gun in one hand while balancing a glass of amber whiskey in the other. His bleached hair falls in every which way, just as the rest of him seems to be just as disheveled yet a whole range of outrageous Machiavellian schemes brewing within those icy eyes.
"So get it over with it." I challenge him, watching as his brow raises with an eye peering over at the blonde that seems to just lurk in the shadows. "Do whatever the hell will satisfy your fucked up need for revenge but you leave her out of it." I nod my head to Mia, finally getting a glimpse of her state under the lights. And she just seems to be so lost in her own head that she stares blankly at me.
An abrupt laugh puffs from his lips, and my eyes shoot to him despite the hammering into my skull with every noise and violent light just like the one from above. He cancels out the space between us, crouching beside me as he smirks to himself while he sips down a heavy gulp of his intoxicating whiskey.
He psychotically traces the gun barrel under my jaw, and I groan in restraint as I twist as far away from the feeling of the deadly weapon pressing directly into the hollow of my throat. "Where's the fun in that?" He smiles, tapping the end of the gun up against my chin with a deranged hum. "Right, Chloe?"
Directing his attention to the older, bleached blonde behind him, her arms crossed over her chest as she hums under her breath. And my entire body floods with the sort of rage I didn't know I was capable of enduring without bursting at the seams. "You–"
My eyes sear into her pitiful existence, and the realization that I know clicks into place. The most subtle of smiles meets her lips as she notices, prideful in a way that makes me want to claw at her — in the same arrogant way his father was to him.
"Liz, was it?" She cruelly grins.
All their pieces begin to click into place, besting anything I could ever imagine to the schemes that Moore had planned.
"You fucking cunt–" I grit out through my clenched teeth at her.
And my first instinct is to fight back, driving my heel into his gut with every last bit of force within me.
It knocks him back a pace, sloshing his precious whiskey over the rim of his cocktail glass and seeping through his shirt. But he vexatiously curses at me as I begin to yank at the ties holding me pathetically hostage.
"I'm going to kill you. I don't fucking care it's the last goddamn thing I do—"
Yet, reality hits me with a swinging hand that stridently collides with my cheek.
I gasp at the sting spreading like a wildfire across my skin, seeping into that ache pounding against my skull. "Prick–" gritting my teeth together the second he shoves the barrel of the gun into my head as he leans into me.
His breath laced with alcohol fogs my clarity and I don't dare back down from his seething gaze, inches from mine with my head waiting to be put out of its misery. "You watch yourself. You're lucky we have better use for your existence or you'd be dead already."
As if the warning isn't enough, I attempt to jump at him through a frustrated groan but fail miserably.
And he scoffs in crazed disbelief while I twist at the zip ties digging into my skin, shoving me back into place with the barrel of the gun against my sternum as he holds my deadset gaze. He merely glances back at the blonde woman staring down at the two of us, "this is who they'd all die for ... pathetic."
He gets upright once more, scoffing under his breath with that gun dangling from his other hand as he wanders over to that bitch still just listening to Moore's madness unfold. "Should we start our game?"
"Patience, I've waited far too long for this." Her faded accent cuts deep, seeped just as deep with revenge.
Moore grins right back, humming through the sip of whiskey he washes down. "Why are you fucking doing this? Why do you just gamble with lives–" I spit out at him, pure wrath lacing my tone.
"Because Astor doesn't get to just walk away from this, he should've known that before he killed the only family I had left."
His rebuttal is fucking pathetic, just as he is. And the blood rushes up to my skin as I twist at my wrists behind my back, no doubt shredding at my skin with the ruthless friction. "You killed our entire family–"
"No," he dryly laughs, "no, I seemed to have missed you. But don't worry, we'll leave that in his hands again." He bluntly reveals.
"That's not fair—"
"None of this is fair, Aurora."
I dismiss him entirely, wholly focusing on her as she just watches this all unfold with a smug expression on her face.
"And what of you? What do you possibly have to gain from even daring to come back into his life." I spit out my words, venomous from just the mere thought of how this very woman hurt him.
Her dark brow raises, wrinkling the skin on her forehead while she steps just barely closer. "To watch, sweetheart ... to watch him lose everything just the way I had when he took everything from me."
Her words surge more visceral anger through me. "You're both fucking sick–" I grit out through my teeth, only looking more like a fool as I fight back.
Moore wanders over to Mia, a meter too far beside me with her head hung in the defeat that I refuse to accept.
"Fuck, has this one gone mute?" He nudges at her head to only regard her face twist, whimpering under her breath.
"Don't touch her! Stop—please," I beg, my voice rasping in restraint.
"Stop playing with them, Thomas," she mewls, her voice a psychotic drawl.
Moore just hums under his breath, eyeing me while he tips his glass back to consume more of that alcohol. "Let me get Astor on the phone, that way we can explain the rules to everyone."
He draws out his phone from the pocket of his dark slacks, and my frantic eyes just focus on Mia to assess that she's okay. But the task's proven impossible given the circumstances, her head hangs once more in that same shattered state.
The dial tone has my ears keen on Moore, and he hums under his breath while washing down the rest of his whiskey down his throat. My breathing trips with every passing ring until the phone clicks, and a cynical smile curls onto Moore's face.
"You son of a bitch–" Griff's voice floods the crackling speaker, and Mia's head turns up at the mere sound of it. My chest splinters at the pure panic pouring over his tone while my gut bottoms out at the reality slowly sinking in.
"Hello to you too, Astor," Moore actually chuckles under his breath, enraging my brother over the phone even further.
"What have you done?" My brother pleads while Moore's cold, blue eyes settle on the two of us with a smug expression on his face. Because for once, he knows he won.
"Oh, I haven't done anything to them, see ... they're just fine," he drawls, gravitating towards Mia who curls further into herself as if to become as small as possible in that very spot. "Go on, say hello," he mumbles to Mia who remains deafeningly silent.
My heart accelerates, ramming against my ribcage the second he drives his foot into her side. She cries out just as I do, my anger boiling over. "I said don't fucking touch her, don't–" I writhe against the restraints while my body screams at me to just give up.
With the sliver of hope left in me, "Griff! Don't give him what he wants! It's a trap, don't fall for it–" I scream in hopes he hears through the phone.
But with my daring attempt, Moore grits out a vexed groan before his glass cocktail glass comes flying at me. I clench down on my teeth, pinching my eyes shut and shielding my face from the collateral. It collides into the fencing above my head, showing glass shards that slice at my skin as they rain over me.
Moore towers back over to me, eyes boring into mine as I reciprocate it just the same with the fresh sting of glass cuts. "There you have it, Astor, was that real enough for you?" He speaks to my brother.
My chest heaves as the silence seems to scream at me, but it seems to compel Moore further.
A psychotic smirk curls onto his lips above me, "no?" Moore questions the dead placidity through the speaker of the phone.
And Moore loads his gun, the chilling sound of the metal clicking has my system rigid.
He lifts the gun, aiming it directly down at me with a steady hand as if he wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger already and be done with me.
And I hear Mia whimper beside me, "no, no, please, please stop this–" her fragile voice breaks as she chokes out a small cry.
"Wait, wait–" Griff's voice cuts through the speaker, but it's not enough to coax the killer out of him.
"Thomas," Chloe's soft voice warns him, but he disregards it entirely.
The deadly gunshot rings out in the hollow of this underground place. And before I can process it, an overwhelming pain blooms through my arm and spreads through my system like a wildfire. The pain catches quickly, surging pain through every inch and magnifying on my arm.
My jaw aches as it wires shut like my eyes, screaming out in pain at the graze of the bullet against my arm. "Fuck–" I choke on a breath, attempting to regulate my breathing but the pain locks in my chest with my panic that I attempt to subdue.
It bubbles over, spilling over the sides of me like water in a boiling pot. And it lights up in flames in the heat of the stove just the same, flaring pain while I lull it to lethal rage.
Despite the tears dripping down my cheeks as I stammer on soft breaths to regulate the pain, Moore hums in satisfaction at my restraint.
"What the fuck do you want, Moore? What do you want? I'll give you anything, you name it–" Griff screams not seconds after the gunshot, but I stifle a whimper as my limbs grow heavy.
My fight to release myself from the zip ties grows tighter and tighter by the passing minute.
Moore smiles at the success of sorts, cutting off my brother in seconds. "Come on, Astor, you should know how this works by now. You can't bargain yourself out of this one." Moore muses into the phone while my burdensome eyes drag over to Chloe watching me intently.
"Please, I'll do anything," my brother's voice collapses in on itself, the kind of collapse my body already craves.
Moore chuckles under his breath, crawling through my skin and settling in the pit of my stomach. "You can't give me what I want back." His voice lacerates through me while he loads his gun back up, the cold metal clicking against each other to still my heart.
"So this is how this is going to work instead, Astor. You get to choose."
His cynical smile has my stomach bottoming up as my frantic eyes glance over to Mia, pressing her lips into her mouth to contain her soft sobs.
"It's your precious girlfriend or your bitch of a little sister ... or I choose for you."
The cruel ultimatum stills in reality, yet still somehow intangible.
"The blood is on your hands either way," Moore tells him.
I hopelessly find myself subtly shaking my head at the thought of the world without a Mia to accompany it — a world without sunshine.
"Griffin–" I breathlessly call out for my brother through the pain weighing down on my body. "Griff! Pick Mia! Pick Mia–" I plead, my voice raw from the desperation in my voice.
"No, no, no, no, no–" Harry's alarmed voice floods the crackling speaker, and a surprising sob wells in my throat at the mere sound of him breaking. "Griff, please, please–" he begs through the phone.
Almost as if I could picture it, I could see everything he was screaming in his wide eyes — in that favorite hue of mine. I could see the scrunch of his face, from the crease in his brow to the tip of his nose — I may never be able to soothe away. I could see the gutting frown on those raspberry lips — those lips I may not get to kiss again if the stars allow it.
My heart splinters at the seams, snapping apart with every stitch he's sewn into the broken pieces of my heart. I roll my trembling lips into my mouth.
"You have 20 seconds."
"Fuck—wait, wait, wait—it's me you want, Moore, right? Then kill me—" I can hear Griffin's panic like an oncoming freight train powering towards me, rattling me to my core as it races across the tracks. I listen to Mia whimper down a small sob.
Moore's deranged smile creeps onto his lips, glancing down at the two of us for a moment with a hum that seems to dictate whether we live or die. "Unfortunately, that's not how this works."
Mia chokes on a cry as Griffin harshly curses through the phone, growing frustrated by the second as he realizes how this is going to play out.
Those same thoughts have my heartbeat erratic, ramming against my chest as my mind swirls with the endless possibilities of thoughts that could be my last as Moore paces between the two of us.
"Any suggestions? I'm all ears," he requests while my tears drip out of my eyes like acid rain, searing against my skin.
My consciousness fades in and out like waves on the shore with the pain radiating through my arm.
And that sickening smirk twists onto his lips, just the same as Chloe's as she just watches this all unfold before her.
"20 ..." he begins and Griffin's already pleading through the phone, screaming at Moore through his agony to stop this.
It gathers in my chest as I glance over at Mia, her entire body shaking so hard that it rattled the fencing we're both held hostage to.
And she chokes out quiet sobs, mumbling words to herself that I may never know because it all seems to fade out of my view. It's as if all of this was some distant motion picture on a big screen, miles away from me.
"19 ..."
"18 ..."
Every descending number this time doesn't count down to that relief after a storm, no—no—this time it merely counts down to the end.
That panic surges through me instead of dissipating in its typical cathartic release. And I couldn't process it all, swelling in my chest and cracking deep into me until I nearly shatter.
"17 ... 16 ... 15 ..."
A part of my mind begged it would be, but the other part of me screamed his name. It screamed over the voices in my head, crashing over me like waves on the moonlit beaches in my dreams.
"14 ... 13 ... 12 ... 11 ... 10 ..."
I shut my eyes, holding my breath to somehow brace for the feeling of my life — all of him — being ripped from me.
And my mind, despite the way it aches, illuminates in color — the kind of hues only he's been able to provide to my life. As far-fetched as that sounds, everything behind my eyes reels in starry nights and laughter while we were high out of our minds on our planetarium floor. It shows the way our feet stumble all over each other as we danced through the gallery of paintings swooning at our love. It shows our mornings tangled in bed, never wanting to leave that safety, and the affection shown through our lover's kisses to the tip of our noses.
It's all Harry.
Hell, it always has been.
"9 ... 8 ... 7 ... 6 ..."
"Sunshine," Mia's voice chokes out through her staggered breathing.
And my eyes peel open, wholly fixating on her with her chocolate tear-stained cheeks. "I can't breathe," she whimpers, her voice pleading for me.
"5 ..."
I shove down the overwhelming agony at the very sight of her, at the situation we've wrapped ourselves in. "I know, babe, I know ... we're going to be fine, just focus on–"
"4 ..."
She chokes on a startled scream, pinching her eyes shut just as I had to brace this dreadful reality. "Sunshine," she sobs again through her panic as the numbers descend, everything beginning to collapse over us while Griff screams through the phone.
I choke on a soft sob, digging my teeth into my bottom lip until that metallic taste spreads across my tongue as my tears burn against my cheeks. "I'm here, Mia, I'm right here," I promise her, over and over again.
"3 ..."
"2 ..."
"1 ..."
My breath lodges in my throat as I squeeze my eyes shut once more. Everything seems to subside to the thrum of my heart, pounding against my chest and reminding me I'm still alive.
"Time's up, Astor."
"Wait, wait, please, let me–" Griff's desperation is a distant call from the shore, almost as if I was drowning and he was screaming too far out to save us in time.
That deadly gunshot lacerates through the silence before the world goes utterly still.
---
gasp !
just one update today. i figured you'd need time to mental brace yourselves for the next few chapters lol.
see you tomorrow,
h.