They're Watching.

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For a heightened experience, readers are strongly encouraged to enjoy with the embedded music.

Bracing myself for impact, I hastily trudge my way over to Valentine's seething form. Upon reaching his growing balloon of electricity; I hesitate. Something I can't afford to do anymore this week. Baring my teeth, I thrust myself into the hazing bubble and pull my way to him.

An incapacitating pain immediately shoots throughout my body and courses through my veins, scorching each and every ounce of blood flowing through my system. I scream aloud as his might boils me from the inside out and blisters begin to form on the surface of my skin. Never have I felt a pain so harsh. So debilitating. And I can't imagine what his countless victims must've gone through, meeting their cold silent ends with nothing but the shrilling sensation of electricity coursing through them and smoldering everything in their body, mind and soul. Not an ounce of comfort to accompany them into the afterlife.

A piercing ring echoes in my ears just in time as a trickle of deep mahogany trails it's way from my nose and down to my lips, becoming one with my lipstick.

I don't have much longer.

Panting heavily, I finally reach him and weakly take his head in my bloodied hands. "You have to stop Valentine. You're losing control again" I croak feebly, leaving smudges of blood in his porcelain hair. Failing to gather his attention, reality begins to slip away.

He's still in his mantra. Not realizing he's hurting people around him, including me. Instead, blinded with an uncapped rage, fueled with the most hazardous of man's qualities: ego, thirst, and pride. In this moment, gasoline bore no comparison to these vices.

The pain has become overbearing, and my brain continues to fry away as I cry out and squeeze my trembling hands around his fizzing head. The top of my gown nearly matches the bottom as trails of crimson compete with its plum dye. "Valentine" I urge once more. Nothing.

I turn briefly to look down at the old man whose knees are now bleeding as they dig further and further into the cold earth. His whole body is red, and his eyes are glazing over; pools of drool and blood blend together as they furiously roll their way down his chin, neck, and chest. He is no longer grinning. No longer chanting. No longer cursing. I'm not even sure he is still breathing.

No. No. Too similar to Henry.

His body is being compressed, as Valentine's strength continues to bend his frail neck at a sickeningly irregular angle. Pretty soon, it was going to break. The entirety of the town was going to witness as Valentine snapped an elderly civilian's neck and killed his wife in the same sitting. Is this what he wanted?

Frailly, I turn back to Valentine. I can't hold on much longer. Pretty soon I was going to end up just like the old man, if not worse. In one last desperate attempt, I summon together the last of my force to pull my face up to his. For the first time in over a year, I plant my lips onto his before for the second time this week, I am consumed by darkness.

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