Flower of Carnage (18+) || BeckFreen [Completed]

Chapter 6

It was 3 o'clock in the morning when a deafening explosion echoed from the Flower Manor, where the ten leaders resided. Rumor had it that the explosion originated in Becky's room – a place someone had targeted with a bomb to eliminate her.

I was about to question how someone could have infiltrated with a bomb, but I soon realized there were no guards in sight. I couldn't help but wonder why there were nurses around when, in fact, they were involved in nefarious activities. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"Perhaps that person was so desperate to kill Becky that they didn't care about collateral damage. It's madness," one student remarked, gazing at the billowing smoke from the manor.

"They're all mad," the student next to her concurred. "Becky may have indirectly caused deaths, but she doesn't carry out the deeds herself. She just orchestrates them."

I turned to both of them, and they lowered their heads. Perhaps, they recognized that I was Becky's candidate. Would my duty involve taking lives for her? Who did she think she was, a deity who could control everything?

"That's the bomber!" one student shouted as a girl in a white camisole, hands and feet bound, was being led away.

"Hypocrite," the bomber spat blood from her mouth, likely a result of a beating for her actions.

She hadn't thought it through. Even if she succeeded in killing Becky, the Armstrong wouldn't let her live. And why had she done it? To protect her fellow students? Yet, the very people she sought to protect were hurling hatred her way. Was it truly worth it?

"Stop," I interjected.

Becky's minion halted, and I recognized them from earlier. "What do you want?" she asked, holding the chains of the bomber.

"May I ask her a question?" I requested.

Becky's minion rolled her eyes and nodded. "Just one question, and then we're leaving."

I turned to the bomber, her eyes burning with anger as she struggled to breathe.

"Was it worth it?" I asked. "Trying to kill Becky?"

"Yes. With her here, none of us would survive. She's selfish. She's evil. You're the candidate, right? Let's see how many weeks you last." She smirked and walked past me.

She had a point. If Becky lived, many would suffer, but if someone killed her, that person would be the only one to suffer. The question was, who would be willing to make that sacrifice for the greater good?

"Freen!" Becky's voice echoed from a distance. She appeared unscathed, showing no signs of burns or wounds. It was as if her room had never exploded.

"What?" I asked coldly.

"I've already discussed the incident with the head," she said with a smile. I wondered how she could smile after everything. Was she not afraid for her life? Then again, Becky couldn't feel pain, so perhaps she was fearless.

"Did you forgive the bomber?" I inquired.

"If this had happened to you, would you forgive her?" Becky's tone turned serious, sending shivers down my spine. "Since she tried to harm Armstrong's only daughter, not only she would suffer, but also her family, friends, and everyone she had contact with." She turned to me, her eyes ablaze with anger. "But you're an exception, don't worry." She patted my shoulder and whispered, "For now."

"What do you want?" I asked irritably.

"I need a room, and I can't sleep with anyone. So, I'll sleep in yours," she said, pulling me towards my room. But before we could enter, I pulled away.

"Did I agree to this? Why do you act as if you can do whatever you want with anyone?" I retorted.

Becky tilted her head and crossed her arms. "If you don't want to, you can sleep outside. This is my domain, Freen, in case you've forgotten." She produced a spare key from her pocket and entered my room.

"Why do you have a spare key?" I inquired, taking it from her.

"I told you, I already spoke to the head. They allowed me to stay here because there are no vacancies. If you'd rather sleep in the bomber's room, feel free to leave." Becky settled onto my bed, further infuriating me.

I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes. I couldn't win against her arguments. She truly was the ruler of this domain, able to do as she pleased, and I had no say.

"Fine, but buy your own bed," I said, pulling the sheets, causing her to stumble onto the floor.

"Remember this day, Chankimha," Becky warned, glaring at me.

"Okay, Armstrong," I grumbled, lying down on my bed. "Turn off the lights. I can't sleep with them on."

Becky obliged, making me wonder if she had grown tired of arguing with me. With the dim light filtering through the window, I turned around, only to find her beside me, already asleep.

How had I not noticed her lying down beside me? I looked at her face and found her strangely angelic, from her nose to her eyelashes, and yes, even her lips. Why was I even thinking about her lips? Damn it.

"I can sense you staring at me," she remarked, causing my face to redden.

I immediately turned around and covered myself with a blanket. Why did my heart race so fast after looking at her like that?

"Let's sleep, Freen. It's still early." Becky wrapped her arms around me, and I couldn't resist her embrace. It was warm, and it made me miss my father immensely. "Stop mumbling!" She hugged me tightly, and I soon found comfort in our position.

That dawn, for the first time in a long while, I slept without a heavy heart.