mercy ; peter ballard

20. i l o m i l o

march 27, 1986

robin lit the molotov cocktail in steve's hand. bea stood next to robin. steve and robin stood in the middle, responsible for the molotov cocktails. bea and nancy were in charge of shooting.

beatrice looked to vecna's unconscious, suspended body. his body was almost fully deformed, excluding a small part of his chest.

she sympathized with him. she always had sympathized with him. she wondered if there was anything she could've done to help him avoid this path, to come home. she could wonder all she wanted, but nothing could change the path they were on now.

"throw it," bea commanded steve, with no hesitation. it was finally time he was stopped for good.

steve wound his arm back before throwing the flaming bottle. the bottle shattered right on his chest, throwing him back. a huge fire ignited as vecna screamed in pain. bea shielded her face from the heat wave given off.

his entire body caught fire, spreading to the vine. the vines broke from his back, throwing him flat to the ground. he looks up to the four, pushing himself up.

he could no longer see the fragile, weak beatrice. she met his eyes with betrayal and determination.

bea cringed at the sound of his burning flesh. he looked to them with anger, growling under his breath. he inched closer to them. robin lit another molotov cocktail, throwing it at him to prevent him from getting any closer.

he recoiled back again as the bottle shatter. bea aimed her gun, mirroring nancy's stance.

nancy took the first shot. beatrice followed suit. she pulled the trigger, hitting him in the stomach. she saw the shock in his eyes, but keep going.

he questioned how she could love him for everything he had done. he couldn't fathom how he could love the enemy. he just couldn't understand. bea, however, knew how that felt. she had felt that for years. she knew peter loved her, but he could pull the trigger on her heart. it didn't matter how much someone loved someone else, they could still hurt each other.

he wanted to hate her for being against him, for fighting him, for pulling that trigger, but he couldn't. he would finally understand how she felt. she could never hate him. she wanted to. he took so much away from her. she could fight him, resent him, be mad at him, but she couldn't genuinely hate him.

bea fired another shot. he groaned as he fell back. nancy pulled the trigger after her. bea tried to fire another shot, but her gun was jammed. she ditched the gun and pulled the pocket knife in her back pocket. the blade pointed towards him. he screamed coming towards them. nancy shoots him one more time.

this was it. she was sure he was finished. beatrice channeled her remaining energy into sending that knife into to his chest. blood trickled down her nose as she furrowed her eyebrows angerly.

"this is for max," she whispered to herself.

like a bullet, the knife tore through the air, piercing his chest. the force sent him flying out the boarded up window. beatrice could hear the thud of his body.

she wiped the blood from her nose away. her soulmate. her lover. her 'future husband' laid outside, dormant.

a voice echoed in her head. "we'll meet again."