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CHAPTER FIFTEEN ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ
Like all of those years ago, it was just the two of us. William looked at me with his crimson glare as if I was nothing more than a piece of meat, something to be ripped to shreds and discarded of. His delusions had caused it all: the running, the hiding the hunting. From the moment I'd fought with the venom, the minute I'd been changed, the second I refused to join his vampire cult, I'd become his target, and William had never been one to back down from a challenge. But really, I'd been that test since we were both young humans in a northern English village.
This fight was so unlike the others. This time, I would not evade him- I could not. Yet it was not because of the fear that bubbled in my chest or the screaming anxiety that pounded for my brain to make my legs move, to sprint away. I could not escape his clutches because this would be the end, just as I'd hissed to him as we met in the clearing only a mile off from the main fight.
What was the point in living if I would always be running from him? What was the point in going on if soon I would be trapped within his predation once again, only months down the line? William would always find me. That was what he did: he tracked and hunted better than anyone I knew- he was better than James ever could have been.
For my relationship with Alice to live, William had to die.
This fight was so unlike the others. This time, there was complete silence. The tense, suffocating kind that bred a building fear. There was no taunting, no disgusted swipes of poison-laced words, for there was no need for it. We'd said all that could be said.
Predictability was William's style. He moved first, moving full metres as he launched himself forward, arms poised to crash down on my shoulders, to crush me with his brute strength. I slid from his direction in one, swift movement. Not even the smallest of shouts left his downturned lips. As soon as his feet were on the ground, he was sprinting again, zipping from tree to tree in a bid to confuse even my enhanced senses. That was one of his newer moves.
It was a primitive way of fighting with vampires: ripping and gauging and throwing. Punches couldn't be thrown as our skin could not bruise, never mind how fragile it looked.
My eyes watched him, my legs bent and ready for the inevitable move he would make. Before he could leap forward, I threw myself upwards, jumping to latch onto a thick branch above, pulling myself up. I had the high ground, but still, he sprinted from tree to tree, the sound of his feet connecting with the ground little more than a dull thump that only my ears would be able to register.
Then I jumped, feet connecting with his shoulders as he ran into my pathway. With a growl, he rolled forward, landing smoothly hunched, head tilting like a predator. Hit after hit came as he matched my strength and vigour. In one angry movement, I grabbed onto his wrist, yanking backwards, throwing him against a tree, using a foot to push his hip. A terrible tearing sound filled the air. William's arm hung from one dead strand of broken skin. He looked at his useless limb, and knowing he would not be able to fix it, turned to me with a shattered grin.
