Severed Ties

Dichotomy

Alara

"What?" I never thought it possible for such a broken whisper to come from Cameron. The flicker in his eyes, of confusion, and sadness.

I tried not to look at him, aiming my gun at my once father, "You should know Damon, I don't fail twice,"

"And I have failed neither time, I have shown him who you are. I have broken you, you will never have trust again, Alara," her laughed maniacally dropping my husband to the floor and strutting his way over to me. A chaos in eyes I used to think were a reflection of my own, but they were too light, too glassy, too changeable.

"I won't hesitate to shoot you," I gritted out my hands burning against the hot metal of my gun, ignited by the flames still surrounding us.

"I wonder why it breaks him so, he has killed, so why does he care that you have too," Damon Mortello concocted his words in the perfect dose of poison. Rubbing salt into the wound.

"I haven't killed anyone. I just tried to kill you," I forced out my breaths restless, and my eyes refusing to meet Cameron's.

"Ah yes, the story of your nobility. Trying to save your brother from a punishment he deserved."

I sent out a warning shot, it skidding past him, nicking his ear but he didn't flinch, I wavered, I could not go up against such madness, it was then I realised Damon Mortello had nothing to lose, and I have everything to lose.

At every turn he had the upper hand, "He didn't deserve anything. Your a tyrant and you care for nothing but your own skin. You claimed to love me, you convinced me that you were my father. I would have done anything for you, I stopped hating you after that day because I was convinced you were changed, after I drove that knife through you I thought all the evil in you had been spilt with that blood. You never raised a hand to him again,"

"Never in front of you," he grinned with malice that was strong enough to make my stomach turn and my heart burst. Images of Theo broken on the floor, after failing to kill his friend for lying to my father. I still remember it.

Mama, where is Theo, I need Theo.

The tears streamed down her face, thick and pooling onto my outstretched hands. I was young just shy of ten, nothing in me more susceptible to violence but that all changed that day.

"YOU DO IT NOW, THEO OR BY GOD I WILL DO IT FOR YOU, AND TO YOU," a terrifying command boomed from the study before I could be stopped by my mother I was sprinting down the hall bursting into the study just to hear the crack of a skull.

My father stood their with his gun smashed against my brother's head. He didn't even cry just fell to the floor with a thud, blood pooling from his head on to his hands as he crawled to Gareth who was unconscious on the floor, a bullet wound in his stomach.

"PAPA," I screeched wild eyes locking on me as Theo's eyes raised too panic blooming in them as he tried to push himself up.

"LARA NO," I was running faster than I could breath heaving as I reached my father, his tall domineering figure over me as my fists slammed into his stomach, to no avail.

I was as useless as I ever was, drowning out the pained sobs, as my father latched onto my arms.

"CASS GET THIS BRAT OUT OF MY OFFICE NOW,"  he bellowed and he had never shouted at me so severely. When I looked up  I did not see my father only a monster.

Theo was by my side, pushing himself between me and them monster, "DON'T FUCKING  TOUCH HER,"

There was a moment of deathly silence before, my father's hand cracked across my brother's face, throwing him to the ground, and even when he was on the floor, he kicked him once more, hard for good measure.

It was all a blur, before I knew what I was doing, I had grasped onto the letter opener on the desk, and I ran for him.

The knife in my hand and I screamed as I drove it into him, straight in his stomach, not the arm, not the leg, in that moment of fiery rage I thought of nothing but spilling blood. And I knew even then at such a young age that if I took the knife out more damage would be done. I pulled the blade from his open flesh and threw it to the side heaving with blood pooling between my fingers.

I cried heavy tears as I realised what I had done, the blood over my hands, "PAPA," he stared down at me and for what seemed like the first time ever he smiled genuinely at me.

There was no sternness in his face, just a terrifying brightness.

Mother came running in, "What have you done Lara?" she knelt beside me not caring for her husbands open wound.

Her eyes lifted, "What have you done Damon?"

He merely grinned, clutching at his wound but there wasn't a crease of pain, just wonderous eyes that were far too mirthful for a man almost murdered, "I have made my Queen."

I never understood what he meant then, but now I did.

"She reveled in it," Damon continued, "Just like you did. You love the pain the blood the anguish you were eager to torture, away from her, scared to taint her. But what if it is her that will taint you?"

"It's not true. I am not tainted and nor his he, he doesn't kill needlessly. He isn't you," I spat.

"Indeed, he will never be me. Because he will never be the creator of such beauty," he was near me in a matter of seconds, his hands caressing my face.

I felt sick, trying to move from his grasp but he clutched my face tightly, "I forged you. I made you. And you will serve me. For there is no Queen, without a man behind her, pulling the strings. You will lead us to the diamond."

"No, she won't." and there was a gunshot, blood spattered over me, a hole ripped through what had been my father, as his body dropped, he laughed a gurgled sort of laugh, as he collapsed.

He was dead.

I couldn't even scream. I shouldn't have felt anything but I did. He was awful for that one day only, after that he had never treated me of Theo that way, for all the bad there was there were those torturous good memories a hint of a man behind that mask.

The dichotomy of the love for the only father you ever knew.

And now he was dead.

He was gone.

And Cameron had killed him.