Chemical Poison . Howard Stark

Chapter 30

Three white lilies rested against an unmoving stone, only luminous from the candle-lit lantern placed on the dirt ground. It was a quiet night, not nearly enough noise. Yet, its silence was deafening for the two bodies standing tall in front of an unmoving - unnamed - stone.

Never to be a gravestone, but forever a symbol of peace and wonder. The lilies appeared to be misplaced, as beautiful flowers should never be carelessly left behind on a rock. Yet, two bodies stared down at the rock, their keen eyes catching onto small specs of gold within the rich earth.

"They had to do it." She spoke, barely a whisper. Nothing compared to the unnerving silent wind. "It was too dangerous-"

The body next to her had clutched onto his walking cane, as if the ground would swallow him up if he let go. A grumble falling from his lips before he nodded his head towards the candle. It was instantly picked up by her, bringing light to the man next to her.

He appeared to grow older in a matter of hours. Trading his youth and humanity for the shell of a skeleton. His sunken eyes stares back at hers, so unlike the firm beady black eyes she owned. Where his green eyes used to meet hers... now only a musty dull grey remained.

A life was lost, and Anneliese wasn't sure who's had been taken.

Abraham Erskine's, a body no longer present. Forever to be ash in an abandoned garden with no gravestone of his own.

Or her father; the corpse that Abraham could never be.

Anneliese did not go out for drinks that night.

Minutes passed readily and the sun rose all the same. Each and every second alerted Anneliese that she was still alive. Heart thumping and blood gushing. By the second hour, she was aware that in a different world she may not been able to blink.

There was a small chance - alas a likely chance - that she should've been cremated with Abraham. And perhaps that was what kept her up during the night. Not the eerie stillness of Howard and Alexander sleeping in the double bed next to her's, or the creaking noises of the fragile hotel. It wasn't so much as becoming a forgotten grave sight like Abraham or the possibility of death that kept her up.

She knew her death was certain, sooner than later.

That was a fact she had came to terms to when she watched her mother die before her eyes. It was foolish and naive for her to believe anything else.

She feared living more. The chance that she never got to live in the first place, to breathe with purpose and will - and not the demands of others. To be in control of her life; to be independent of all the strong men in her life that believes they're fit to choose her fate. It was the tug and pull of wanting to be educated and to be a mother, to work for her livelihood but to relish in the domestic bliss of motherhood.

And if Anneliese knew anything for sure, the Lorenz's never had a lucky chance with the dice. A cost for every luxury; living was a constant card game with no victory. The sheer probability of her reaching her desires and wishes were close to impossible. Statistically speaking, Anneliese knew her chances were lower than any number she could comprehend. And Anneliese knew a lot of numbers. But she knew, she had no one else but to blame... but herself.

After all, she was the one to get herself into a mess that could only result in death.

If it was hers or another, regardless blood would be shed. And Anneliese fears for the time when she would be the executioner, to stain her fingers red once again.

By the seventh hour, she knew Alexander and Howard were awake. The two were whispering, perhaps arguing, but Anneliese could only stare ahead.

She was damned to this fate since the day she was born. The curator of this all, the biggest punisher in her life was the one she was in debt to the most. Forever unable to scream and cry, to complain and demand why.