RoseBlood

I wait for the impact, for the cutting, unbearable, fleeting pain of a bullet before total blackness.

But it never comes.

A rush of sounds and struggling follows it instead, and dust and ceiling slats crash and fall to the ground from the misdirected shot. I open my eyes in shock, scrambling onto my feet, as I watch the struggle between Hayley, gun in hand, wrestled and pointed upwards...

And Emerson restraining her from behind.

For a long moment, I can barely think, my head spinning with how much things are changing, so much is going on, one after the other.

Stop gawking and do something!

I run to help Emerson, but Elias grabs me.

"Hey, woah!" he yells, as Hayley screams and writhes in Emerson's surprisingly strong grip, and another shot is fired into the ceiling, making us jump back as more thick dust and slats fall to the concrete floor below. "Don't, Holly, you're hurt!"

Emerson jabs Hayley in her side with his elbow, and snatches the gun from her hand as she stumbles. He quickly regains his composure, the gun aimed at her now, his other arm spread out like a barrier between me and her. Elias stands beside him and mirrors his brother with his other arm, and for once, I let myself stay behind, protected by the Tyrel brothers, as they stare down the RoseBlood Killer.

Hayley looks wildly between them, eyes wide as saucers, unbelieving of what's happening. Her eyes flick to meet mine, and I glare back at her, ignoring the pain in my head.

"Did you get all of that, Holly?" Emerson asks me without looking back, and I blink, a beat passing before I understand.

The energy left in me allows my lips to quirk up into a small smile, and I pull out Brunley's recording device from my pocket, showing it to Hayley.

"Every word," I reply, staring straight at her.

A flurry of emotions runs through her expression as she puts the pieces of what's been happening together, and then she lets out a deep, shivering breath, concentrating on the boys.

"You don't see, do you?" she tries breathlessly. "You should want Holly gone as much as I do. It's what she deserves. She killed your father, not me. I would never have met him and broken into your poor family's life like I did if Bobby was never burdened with her."

They don't say anything. I tense, not in the right position to read the looks on their faces. Emerson's hand on the gun tightens, and I stare at the backs of their heads, at their arms.

They wouldn't. They wouldn't.

"It's all over with before you know it," Hayley continues softly, regaining her breath, and I watch the scene wordlessly, taking an unnoticeable step back, glancing in the camera's direction, willing Brunsley to come, and come now. Because, at this moment, I can't be sure of anything.

"It's not her," Elias says, the outstretched arm's hand balling into a fist, "it's you."

"It is you," Emerson agrees, and I let out a long breath, a relieved shock of adrenaline making the world pulse for a moment. "You're a delusional, twisted, psychopathic woman, and what you deserve is a lot worse than what you'll get."

"Prison," Elias adds. "Where you can rot. Where you can't run."

Hayley's eyes are bulging, her lips pressed together, cheeks flushed and furious. A streak of light widens over her face and the floor as the door is slammed open again, and Brunsley's dramatic figure fills the opening. Hayley darts to the side, and Emerson lunges for her, grabbing her waist and pinning down her arms.

Brunsley lowers himself down into the basement, along with a stunned-looking Edith, and a small group of armed police. I watch in amazement, recorder in hand, while Edith lets out a huge breath, holding herself back from running to us. Brunsley looks at me, noticing the recorder, and we exchange a smile full of relief and knowingness. I push the button in the centre, and a tiny beep sounds, signalling the end of the recording.

"You're under arrest," Brunsley starts authoritatively.

"Hayley," I interrupt, and he glances at me. "Her name's Hayley. Hayley Lore."

"Hayley Lore, you're under arrest for the murder of Daniel Tyrel, Bobby and Judith Cassia, and Clarissa Newman. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Hayley lets out a broken, breathy laugh. Emerson goes to pass her to Brunsley, but in another quick moment that's too fast to process, she's grabbed the gun from Emerson's hand. She takes rushed steps backwards, head thrown over her shoulder to look at me, but Elias is there first. He runs in front of me, shielding me with his body, and Edith's next. Emerson stands in front of his little sister, and Brunley stands in front of Emerson, his eyes narrowed and deathly serious and he stares unblinking at Hayley.

"Don't do anything you might regret, Miss Lore. There are armed officers on the scene."

She takes us all in, one by one. The last Cassia. The Tyrel siblings. Brunsley. The police. The gun in her hand.

She stays staring at the gun while I hold my breath, craning my neck to see her properly, see her lift the gun, and the police and Brunsley ready themselves.

"We'll be together, Bobby," I struggle to hear her murmur to herself, swaying slightly, unsteady on her feet. "Even in death."

Then, just like that, she flips the gun in her hand, lets out one last broken laugh, and cuts herself off with the last bang of the day.

Bang.

A gruesome scene erupts as her head caves in, blood rushing through the hole and splattering the wall and space around her. Her blonde hair instantly stains with gloopy crimson, her face butchered and almost unrecognisable. We all jump at the impact, and Edith screams in horror, as Hayley's body falls, heavy and lifeless, to the cold ground.

And that is the end of the RoseBlood Killer.