STRANGER, jesper fahey

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"The deal is off."

He'd been dead, he'd been dead she was sure of it, she'd heard their hearts stop beating, felt their cold skin against hers as she'd held them and screamed and wailed to the thundering skies, as if they'd hear her on their decent into the heavens and come back for her instead of leaving her to rot. Saints she'd mourned them for so long, her grief persevering into her skin until it had become her completely, made a deal with death itself to become something monstrous to take revenge against Kettedam for taking them, her last thread to humanity snapping and leaving horror in its place.

She should of done something, should of fought harder against the men trying to throw them with the rest of the bloated corpses covered in their own dirt, she should of stayed with them, should of followed, should of waited, she should of fucking died with them but she didn't she couldn't, she just ran and ran and ran after something finally exploded inside of her and made the whole sky tremble, killing the men surrounding her and staining her hands that would never be clean for years to come.

Gwen slammed the door shut behind her as she finally stumbled home, falling onto the ground with a grunt, heaving gasps escaping bloodied lips as she tried to crawl across the floor as grief and rage clawed at her insides until she felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside out, as raw as a wound and left to bleed out because of her own selfish mourning. Everything hurt, agony striking her every limb, her broken hand that throbbed, the gaping hole in her thigh from that stupid cane, the bruises, the cuts, the pain in her chest that felt far worse than heartbreak.

It all just kept mounting and mounting inside her, the wind howling outside, battering against her windows as the night thundered followed by flashes of lightning that struck the ground inside, getting louder, stronger the more sobs that escaped, some awful sounding things that sounded like they were literally being forced out of her chest until she could barely breath, could barely do more than lift her head as she lay there on her kitchen floor.

His eyes, her eyes, their eyes, how could she not of seen? How could she not of noticed that they had the same fucking eyes. Her brother, her brother, her brother, her Kaz was alive...and she'd been the one who left him to rot all those years ago, not the other way around.

And that was when the dam she'd built of her own violation to keep her complacent and alive finally broke, finally cracked under the pressure of her devastation, the weight of her sins and all consuming grief as she opened her mouth and screamed, objects flying as her powers unleashed from her skin, the table smashing to pieces, her window shattering, the room exploding with white light as lightning scorched her home, the storm that was she becoming one with her ruination.

Flashes of the past, her mistakes, her lasting pain kept rushing her, mouting inside her mind until it felt fried and wrung out, questions and prayers slipping through her trembling lips lost in the howling winds as she continued to lay there, sobbing and trembling from broken limb to broken limb. She could remember that time very well, felt it inflict its misery on her memory, the source of her nightmares, her trauma, her greatest grief and most painful loss because she'd loved her brothers to the point of ruin and ruin her they did when they left- no, when she thought they left her.

She remembered that the only time she'd left their sides was to delve into the streets of the Barrel with greedy fingers, clumsy and trembling taking anything she could get her dirty hands on and usually rushing back to the alleyway with new hand shaped bruises and gashes across her face for the trouble of less than fresh bread tucked under her armpit that she'd water down like disgusting soup to gently tip down their throats, ignoring her own stomach that rumbled in vile hunger as it ate away at itself, only focused on her brothers, the ones who were meant to protect her and look after her only to find the tables turned.