Tainted Perfection

⁰ ⁷|𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

A/N
Now we've gotten to the good part. Fair warning, there's a bit of violence involved in this chapter and if you easily get triggered I'd advise you skim or skip this one. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. Your support goes a long way.
Love,
Lily.

I land on the wet grass just outside Aditya’s window, the only blind spot from the security cameras meant to monitor our every move. My gaze briefly meets my room window which is a few feet above Adi’s. I grimace when the memory of Romeo almost breaking his leg when he jumped from it a few months ago makes its way into my head. A shiver goes through my body at the sudden exposure to the cold night and the chill in the air bites at my exposed skin. Rubbing my palms together, I blow hot air into my hands before shoving them into the small pockets of my jacket. I begin making my way to the cluster of trees behind the school and start my ten-minute walk to my destination. 

At the edge of the wooded area that surrounds the school, sits a chalet, dilapidated and falling apart. It used to be owned by the previous landowners before Martin Crestview acquired it and turned it into the school that it is today. Why he hadn’t destroyed it as he did the rest of the buildings is a mystery and the answer to that is buried six feet under with him.


Most of us believe it used to be a workers’ house of some sort. Made mostly out of wood that is slowly rotting away, the simple bungalow has three rooms, with a tattered roof that barely keeps out the rain. Going to the cabin is against the rules but that does nothing to stop the students of Crestview from using the house for prohibited activities such as drug usage, drinking, sex, and so on. Although the building is technically part of the school, the Academy has made it clear that going into the house is banned and they are not responsible for whatever accident that might happen in it. In our second year, when Killian Petrov broke his wrist while smoking pot in the house, the school didn’t hesitate to expel him not even caring enough to treat him properly. He was shipped back to Russia the next day. Despite the strict rules, it doesn’t stop students from making use of the house. Probably not as often as before the Killian incident though. 

The century-old chalet comes into view. The small cottage is barely standing after being deeply affected by nature’s harsh elements without proper care for almost a century. The house is falling apart. It is mostly made of wood and stone with three windows, one for each room of the house.

The sound of used cigarettes, broken bottles, and debris crunching under my feet fills my ears as I walk through what used to be the front door. The room is dark, the only source of light is the dim moonlight reaching into the room from the window on the left side of the door. I glance at the dark hallway leading to the two other rooms in the house before studying my immediate environment once more. I don’t see him at first due to the darkness but when I walk further into the room, the silhouette of a male figure begins to form. The foul smell of a burning cigarette has my nose scrunching up in distaste. My eyes squint in the darkness as I try to decipher the identity of the person in the room.

“Cara,” The word comes out slowly and it immediately gives away his identity. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Romeo.” I breathe as the familiar face of my friend looks down at me. The light from the window allows me to see the outline of his face. He’s smirking, the lit cigarette between his lips as he regards me with half-lidded eyes. “What are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that.” He retorts, his face stretched in a full-blown smile as he cocks his head to the side. He removes the cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke. “As you can see-” He gestures to the cigarette in his right hand. “I needed a smoke. Why are you here?” He asks emphasizing the word ‘you’ before bringing the cigarette back to his lips. I clear my throat and cross my arms.
“I just needed fresh air.” He lets out a soft laugh at my words and the smile is back in place again. I suddenly feel vulnerable as he scrutinizes me, his eyes lazily tracing my form. Resisting the urge to look away, I stand straighter with my chin in the air, facing his stare head-on.

“At midnight?” The amusement in his voice grates on my nerves and I shrug in reply.

“I thought you quit?” I can’t help myself as the question tumbles out of my lips. I previously tried to break Romeo out of the habit and my fingers twitch to knock the cigarette out of his hands. He mirrors my earlier actions, lifting his shoulders in a careless shrug.

“I thought so too.” He replies.

“Then why?”

“It helps with the stress.”

“What stress?” I ask when he doesn’t explain further. I’m pushing my limits now but my curiosity gets the best of me and I find myself asking questions for answers that have nothing to do with me. 

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.” His words leave a sting and I press my lips into a line as a slight feeling of embarrassment washes over me. A few seconds pass as I regard the troubled boy in front of me.

“Good health is a gift.” I start and he narrows his eyes at me causing me to look away. “Don’t waste it.” The words are barely a whisper. Exactly twenty-four seconds pass before I hear a sigh and I turn to look at him as he drops the cigarette on the floor, stomping on it with the heel of his shoe. The side of my lips twitch in a brief smile and I turn my head away to stop him from seeing it. Silence fills the room again and the only sounds that can be heard are that of our breathing and the occasional chirping of insects.

He clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him and I watch as he shuffles where he stands. He cracks his knuckles a few times and I seem to hold my breath in anticipation, each crack like a countdown to something I am not aware of. 
“How are you?” He asks, his voice meek and I’m caught off guard by the question.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I think,” I add a second later. “You?” He lets out a tired sigh as he runs his hands through his hair and he seems to lean entirely on the wall behind him.


“Nothing much.” He mutters as he kicks a discarded empty can in front of him. Awkwardness hangs in the air and with nothing else to say I take a seat on the floor, resting my back on the wall and Romeo follows suit a moment later. 
 
“Are we still friends?” My voice is quiet when I ask the question as the fear of losing Romeo entirely suddenly dawns on me. He holds out his left hand for me and I don’t hesitate to intertwine my fingers with his.

“Of course we are.” He says and I can just see the faint outline of his smile in the dark. “Aren’t we?” He asks and his tone falters a little, unsure of my answer.

“We are,” I assure him because, despite my commitment issues, I have no idea how I’ll survive Crestview without him by my side.

“Good.”

“I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh and he turns to look at me quizzically.

“For what?”

“The dinner, what I said-”

“Hey.” He cuts me off causing me to look at him. “You did nothing wrong. We agreed on no strings attached, remember.” He says nudging my shoulder with his. “I should be the one saying sorry for thinking otherwise.” His words force a laugh out of me.

“Let’s not say sorry anymore, yeah?” I ask and he brushes my knuckles with his thumb, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Sure.” He says and I can’t help the smile that makes it onto my face. Untangling my fingers from his, I stand up and turn to face him with my hands outstretched.

“Come on, let’s get going. It’s getting cold.” He accepts my hands and pulls himself up with a grunt. Letting go of his hands, I proceed to dust off the stray dirt from my backside before looking back at Romeo.

“You shouldn’t be coming out here in that flimsy-” His words suddenly come to a halt and his eyes move to focus on something behind me. Dread fills my veins and a jolt of fear shoots through my stomach seeing the look of absolute horror on his face. The next events happen so fast and I don’t get a chance to question him before he tackles me to the ground just as a bullet flies past me, barely missing my head. The force of the fall has me seeing spots in my vision and I blink multiple times to clear my head as I feel my conscience rapidly slipping away.

“Gwen get up, don’t close your eyes!” The urgency in his voice chases away the dizziness in my senses. I manage to lift myself from the floor just in time for the second gunshot to hit the wall above my head and I realize the bullets are coming from the open window. I don’t risk a second glance at the window as Romeo pulls me into the dark hallway. Two more gunshots ring out as we stumble into what used to be the kitchen. I lean against Romeo for support as he rests on the wall behind his back. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand on my own if he pulls away. My body trembles in terror as I reach blindly for Romeo in the dark. My hand finds his arm but I immediately pull back in alarm when I feel a sticky wet substance trickling down his arm. I nearly scream when I realize he’s bleeding. He lets out a few curse words in Italian lifting his right hand to support his left as he hisses in pain.


“Romeo.” My voice is barely a whisper and my terror can be heard in just that one word. I’m crying now, the waves of hot tears making their way down my cheek. Romeo grips the back of my head with his uninjured arm in a hold so tight it is almost painful.

“Gwen listen to me.” He begins and I feel him shoving his right hand into the pockets of his pants. He places what I assume is a small knife in my right hand.


“If they come inside, we have to run.” He says and I nod, the only response I can manage at the moment. “And if he gets too close, you stab him, as hard as you can, you understand?” I nod again. His words are a jumbled-up mixture of Italian and English, the fear in his voice evident as he speaks. He begins to speak again but he is interrupted by the sound of footsteps on weak wooden floors.

The killer is in the house.

The fear in my bones feel like a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped on me without mercy and I shiver as a single trail of cold sweat made its way down my back. Nausea pools in my belly and panic thrums in my blood. Romeo holds me close, the warmth of his body my only tether to reality at the moment. His right palm is over my mouth, a desperate attempt to keep me from making any noise as he buries his face in my hair. The beating of my heart echoes throughout my body resembling that of gunshots and it feels like the gun itself was shoved into my ribcage. The footsteps are getting closer and Romeo holds me tighter with each step. The hilt of the knife digs into my palm and it is sure to leave scars as I hold unto it for dear life. It is a twisted game of cat and mouse as the killer makes their way toward us. I strain my ears for any sound they make as they walk into the only other room. A few seconds pass while they move around in the room before emerging in the hallway once again. My breaths die in my throat and Romeo and I stand in place, frozen in dreadful anticipation. I struggle not to react when the silhouette of the killer fills the doorway, he pauses for a few seconds surveying the entire room. He walks into the room in slow strides, each step resonating with my heartbeat and the anticipation threatens to kill me before our attacker gets the chance to. He’s about four feet away from us now and I wonder if he can hear the beating of my heart and I worry he’ll bury a bullet or two in my head before we can run. He shuffles on his feet and a gasp threatens to make it past my lips when he turns to walk toward us. Romeo’s blunt nails dig into my side and although slightly painful, the action is reassuring.


Three feet away. I hold the knife in my right hand, ready for an attack.

Two. Just a little closer.

One. I can imagine him reaching for his gun in the dark just a foot away from me, ready to blow my brains out.

I don’t hesitate to lift the knife and bury it in his side. He lets out a scream and what I assume is his gun hits the floor with a thud. I retract the knife and he immediately drops to the floor in pain. Warm blood is on my hands, under my fingernails, seeping into my skin and dripping onto the floor. I am about to stab him a second time when Romeo pulls me away with a tug on my hand. I follow, knife in hand as we run out of the house.

The pale moon bathes the trees in a gentle glow giving the illusion of a peaceful night as we hurriedly make our way into the woods and I desperately long to see the artificial light of the school. My braids have come loose from the bun and they whirl around my face as I run. I don’t dare look back as we zip past the trees, my gaze planted in front of me as my breathing quickly turns painful. My ears pick up the sound of a third pair of footsteps behind us, Romeo increases our pace and I run as fast as my legs would allow. We are halfway through the cluster of trees and I’m beginning to see the school and can almost taste victory on my tongue. But my relief is short-lived. 

A violent pull of my hair halts my movements. I hit the ground, head first as a sharp pain explodes in my skull, subconsciously letting go of the knife. Romeo stops a few feet in front of me and I scream at him to run. Our attacker doesn’t bother himself with Romeo once he has me by the ankles and my body floods with alarm when he begins pulling me back to where I have just run out from. I hold onto the green grass with the little energy I have left and frantically search the ground for the knife. I don’t register the pain from the bruises and scrapes on my arms, the throbbing of my head, or the ripping of my fingernails. I almost cry in relief when I feel the metallic surface of the knife. Turning in my spot, I finally get a good look at our attacker who wears a black ensemble with matching gloves and a mask that only shows his eyes and mouth. I lift the bloody knife and slash at the arm that had my ankle in a firm grip. He lets out a hiss in pain but holds firm as he continues dragging me. I send kick after kick at his abdomen all to no avail as he continues his journey to the chalet practically carrying me to my death. I’m glad he somehow lost his gun in the house, he would have probably shot me by now, instead of dragging me back.


I hope Romeo made it back, I’ll feel better dying knowing he is safe. I am already making peace with my unexpected death, I managed to escape it once before and it doesn’t seem like I’ll be privileged to make it out a second time. I don’t even fight anymore as he drags my half-unconscious body through the woods. I’m tired and the promise of sleep is like a siren call in a storm. I can tell we’ve made it a good distance from where he attacked me when the pressure of his hold on my ankles suddenly disappear. I look up in time to see him stumble back with his right hand on the back of his head before his body drops to the ground. Romeo tosses a piece of wood on the floor and a second later I am being pulled up again.

“Run!” His scream sends a shot of adrenaline through my system and fills me with an energy I didn’t know I had and soon enough we’re running again. We stick to each other like glue, supporting ourselves as best as we can as we find our way back to campus. The light emanating from the school feels like a drop of rain after a year-long drought. Tears of relief stain my cheeks as we stumbled to Adi’s window. Romeo goes in first while I try my best to support him due to his injured arm. I risk a glance at the woods, half expecting a masked murderer to come running out, guns blazing to finish the job he started. Adi appears above me, a look of horror on his face as he takes in the condition I am in, bruised and bloody. I want to reassure him that most of the blood is not mine but can’t muster enough energy to speak. By the time I make it into the warm safety of his room, Romeo is sprawled on the floor with Emilia’s arms around him.

Numbness is starting to take over my body as dark spots appear in my vision. Adi moves to catch me but is too late as the inevitable happens. My body seizes up and I collapse on the floor.