YOU DECIDE ON HOW YOU WANT THE STORY TO END. THIS IS ONE (OPTION 1) ENDING.
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(CONTINUED FROM CHAPTER 'SEVENTY EIGHT')
But I was not nearly as quick enough.
The blade slashed my arm deeply, and I made no attempt to howl a chilling scream, raising my knees in preparation to shove him off. But the man was frantic and quick, and he raised the knife in the air, gritted his teeth, and brought it down to ram it in my stomach.
My breath hitched as a cold burning sensation ripped through me. The man yanked out the blade in a mess of blood and plunged it directly under the first wound, stabbing me once more. I gasped and clamped my eyes closed as a roaring pain erupted in my abdomen, like fire on skin. I shook under him and tears filled my eyes as something clanked and the man fell onto his side before he could pull the knife out.
I looked down at the knife still inside my gut and I screamed unintentionally.
Harry sunk down beside me, his face drained of color and his eyes glassy.
"No, no, no, no, no," he was muttering to himself, frantically looking at the blood soaking my shirt. My heart began to pound. I could feel the knife inside me, pain ripping all over my body.
Harry gripped the hilt of the knife and ripped it out. I arched my back, closed my eyes and yelped at the pain, burning over my torso, preoccupied with the affliction that I was too scared to apply pressure on the wound.
Harry used the knife to cut off his sleeve and tied it around my arm. He cut another thick strip and held it to my punctures with both hands, wincing at my whimpers and attempts to push him off.
"You're going to be okay," he murmured, staring down at his bloody hands. "You're going to be okay."
"Harry, stop, you're hurting me," I cried and grabbed his wrists.
Tears rushed down his cheeks, falling onto my clothes, and he didn't wipe them away. He didn't push away his hair, covering his eyes. He ignored me to focus on keeping pressure on me.
"You're going to be okay," he repeated, over and over, completely disregarding my voice.
"Harry." I shook him, feeling my muscles relax. "Please."
The shouts of men reverberated in the distance, outside of the house. Harry snapped his head towards the door, his eyes wild like fire. He pocketed the knife and the gun and he picked me up in his arms and rushed for the basement.
The basement's door was on the other side of the house, moldy but sturdy. Harry rushed through the door, not slowing down even as he moved down the stairs. In the position I was in my wounds throbbed harder and I flinched at every step.
Harry gently laid me on the ground far from the stairs then reached for his gun again.
"Harry," I gritted breathlessly, "what are you doing?"
Harry fumbled with the gun, checking for ammo, then clicked it back into place. He sunk onto the ground beside me and slumped against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest. His arms lay limp beside his body, his eyes coldly staring at the wall across of us. His lips were parted and he breathed heavily but slowly.
I removed my hands from my abdomen and turned them over so my palms faced up. My own blood filled my hands, smearing down my wrists. I was shaking vigorously, my eyes wide. I whispered his name but he didn't make any sounds or movements to indicate that he heard me speak.
I raised my hand, feeling my eyes droop, and brushed it against his. Harry stared for a moment longer and then he turned to me with a look proving that he lost all hope on his face.
"We're not out of here yet," I tried and wiped my mouth when I felt something wet on my lips. My blood. "Look at me," I said when his eyes wandered away from me again.
Then, my legs numbed. Realizing once again the amount of discomfort I felt, lying in the basement of a rotting house with two stab wounds in my abdomen; feeling cold, like I was under the curling waves of the ocean; blood coating my hands and smeared over my chin; tears drying on my cheeks. I was afraid. At this point, it felt as if an anchor was tied to my hopes, weighing me down, but I was trying. My thoughts were being dragged to the side where I thought 'Oh, God, I'm going to die' from 'Harry's still okay, and he can save us both.' But I was trying to stay away from the first thought, fighting the urge to give up. I took another breath, ignoring the fact that everything was darker than usual, and I grabbed his hand.
There was a chance that we could make it. Maybe Liam and Eleanor and the rest were taking down all the people standing outside, in our way, right now. But I failed to stop the tears, anyway.
"Why," Harry whispered, his eyelashes fluttered as tears gushed down his cheeks and his neck, "am I not scared?" He looked disappointed in himself, glaring at the gun in his hand. "One thing I wanted was to die in somebody else's hands, so I didn't look weak trying to escape the madness coursing through this shitty world by killing myself." He chuckled nervously, resting his head against the brick wall we leaned on, and turned his head to me. His eyes shined even though there was barely any source of illumination in the room. "But, it's not--...It's not weak. I don't think--" He cleared his throat when his voice broke, and he wiped away his tears with the back of the hand that held the gun. "Nobody is as weak as those who drive you to do bad things."
"Harry," I spoke, sounding cautious. I tried to speak again but I felt something clog my throat, and I spat a clump of blood to my left.
Harry smiled sadly. "There's nothing to be scared of, Evelyn." He leaned forward and brushed away the hair in my face, knotted and untamed. "Anywhere's better than here."
"Stop," I gritted angrily. My cheeks reddened and I grabbed his sleeve weakly, torn from when he cut it in order to soak up my blood. "We're not going to die,"
"Yes, we are," he said in a calm voice that sent shivers up my spine. "Whether we get attacked, whether you lose too much blood, whether we fucking starve in here, we will die. Everyone dies, so what if we do a little earlier?"
I whimpered. "Harry, stop, you're scaring me, please." I held his hand and squeezed as tightly as I could, being barely as almost all strength left my body. "You have a gun, your friends can still help us. Don't do anything stupid."
Harry opened his mouth--as if he were preparing to yell--hesitated, then sighed.
"When girls like you," he whispered slowly, furrowing his brows, "--when people like you don't understand, they need someone to show them."
"You told me," I was in tears at this point, shocked at how quickly he changed from someone who feared suicide to someone who was willing to kill themselves just to prove a point, "that everything was going to be okay. You told me that! Don't tell me that again--" I gasped for air, "--unless you mean it."
Harry blinked, unashamed, then turned to me. He leaned close enough that I could feel his breath against my cheek and that I could see the texture of his eyes, and he pressed our foreheads together. We stayed like that for a minute, then, slowly, and without hesitation, he said, "Everything is going to be okay."
"We'll be saved?" I cried, and he moved back to place a lingering kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes, relieved that he was back. I was so terrified of knowing I was going to die.
"I love you, Evelyn," he said. Something round and cold pressed against my temple. And, laying there, in my lover's arms in a cold, bleak basement. I felt my heart drop. I opened my eyes. The arm wrapped around my back tightened. "Everything is going to be okay."
I saw Harry laying on my bed with my camera in his hands, laughing, and I, behind him, smiling. A white flash. A boom. That was all.
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REPOST OF AUTHOR'S NOTE
the reason why I wrote two endings--why I wrote this one, was to show that Harry wasn't exactly sane. He wasn't totally psycho; he didn't enjoy killing anyone but cops and other shitty people, but he didn't think properly all the time. But he cared so much for Evelyn, and with my crappy writing I wasn't able to show it but Harry loved Evelyn so so much. I cried writing this and I know it wasn't a happy one but what did you expect? It's a homicidal couple. They've killed people and done other bad things, especially Harry. No where on earth is safe, therefore their happy ending wasn't there. A lot of unsolved questions lay here but that is the point. We don't get everybody's story. All in all, I hope you enjoyed this story. I'm so glad that you made it to the end. I love you all, thanks for reading.
Option 2 will be up in a couple of hours.