Captured (A Modern Medusa Story)

CHAPTER 47: AVERISTA♥️

Phoebe looked more than beautiful.

A tight mini dress of baby blue velvet with straps made of silver chains adorned her body. Her back bare, her long hair curled.
The matching silver platforms on her feet tapped over the floor of the laboratory, the sounds echoing twice in my head.

It felt like I was staring at a star. Something too high above my eyes. Too far away. Something I couldn't reach with my hands. A being I could never pull close to me and make mine.

I shouldn't be surprised, shouldn't I? That the goddess hadn't spared me any attention, the same way my mother didn't. And here I thought I had one more person who could save me. But now, she was one more person to un-alive me.

My trust couldn't be torn farther apart. And my heart purely couldn't take to exist anymore.

They were all his pawns. All of them.

It was hard not to scream at the thought of that.

"I see you've dressed for the occasion." McQuinn smiled at his daughter, delighted at her arrival.

Phoebe released something in the middle of a scoff and chuckle.

Then her words hit me back hard—'I am dangerous for you.'

At least she had meant what she said. At least she never lied . . . right?

"Of course I would dress up for this." She moved towards the man and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You know how much I love auctions, Papa."

No. She lied. She wasn't dangerous for me. She was too dangerous for me.

"Like father like daughter." He pointed, as a matter of fact.

Then her face turned my way.

No words let out. A long silent nothing, staring as if she could see me.

What hurts . . .  Realizing she was all lies, or still wanting to lick on the same goddamn lies she fed me on?

What happens when the person you trusted misaligns your definition of 'trust' in the first place?

Phoebe. Her name almost slipped off my mouth, but I bit my tongue hard.

The triplets hissed at the girl, and she faced away. She headed towards a table, her footsteps slow and calculated.

"What's worse, Averista . . . watching your worst nightmare of becoming a freak show come alive or being killed by the love of your so-called life?" Phoebe inquired, her voice succinct and stern as she pulled something out of a drawer. Her back to me.

It dawned on me that I didn't know this side of her. Or maybe I never knew who this person was at all.

She turned around. A gun held expertly on one hand, and on the other, a pair of bullets.

I didn't know what to think. Or if I should be thinking at all, because I definitely couldn't think as she sauntered towards me.

I held my breath when she stopped a step in front of me.

I was more mortified at how gorgeous she still looked before my eyes than I was at the fact that she was about to end my life.

In a calm, confident motion, the red-polished fingers were loading in bullets into the gun. And I let my mind linger on how weirdly sexual the action looked, like an attempt at seduction rather than to scare me.

If she was the one to kill me, I would let her do it twice. It would hurt, but I wouldn't mind. I deserved it. After all, if she didn't end me, then I'd be the one to end her instead. If she got those brand new eyes, then she wouldn't be immune to my gaze any longer. I'd rather let it end this way . . . It was easier.

"Do it. Get it me out of my misery." I looked at her standing before me, in all her sublimity.

A strike of anger shot past her face. Her mouth opened then closed, like she wanted to tell me something but decided against it. So she simply held a gun over my head.

In a heartbeat, I could swear she was the living and walking Athena. There was a fierceness in her eyes, and a goddess-like power hovered over her like a halo. I was her little old fortress that she yearned to destroy.

I had sensed her clandestine intentions from the moment I knew her, but for some weird reason, I preferred listening to her instead of my guts. The end unveiled itself to me from the beginning, but of course, like a human being, I closed the damn veil. Ignorance had never felt so blissful. Until now.

She was incapable of loving me the way I loved her, but I was still ready to bargain with the stars at any cost, wasn't I? Even if it meant giving my whole life away. I signed the deal with the devil in order to earn even the littlest piece of her.

Now I was getting what I worked for. Nothing.

I gave it all away only to have nothing.

Not even a scrap of her heart.

I had desired all that wasn't good for me. It was all I ever wanted. And what if I've sacrificed everything for her and still want to sacrifice the nothing that was left of me?

For her, I thought of doing things I never even thought of doing for my fucking self.

Love was surely a weakness. Like they said it to be. It was nothing but brutal. With it, I became nothing but defenseless.

"Shoot me." I stated, mimicking her lack of emotion.

What was taking her so long? I thought she'd do anything to get those eyes. I let her do it. Was it so wrong to give out more than I received?

Maybe I was the deranged one. Because I didn't want her to feel the need to give out anything of her to me, I simply wanted her to receive all that I had given her. Accept my love with both hands.

I wanted to be the air she breathed. The deity in her existence.

What's worse than that, really?

"I should've trusted my serpentine instincts," I marked, my eyes fixed on her. "I should've trusted my best friend and everything she said about you. I should've trusted my mother's words, too. They all thought you weren't safe for me. But again, I did trust them. I just paid them no mind. And now I'm starting to regre-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Phoebe held the gun tighter, pushing it over my scalp.

What–too scared to hear what I had to say?

Phoebe was about to pull the trigger when McQuinn stopped her, calling her name.

"Don't finish her off yet." He moved towards us, enjoying the show. "The auction hasn't even started. We're gonna need her to entertain our beloved guests, Phoebe. We're going to have to wait until after that, sadly."

Phoebe's temper seemed to dissipate a bit at her father's words.

With a last curse sent my way, she calmed down.

"Whatever you say. I just wish we could get it fucking over with." She grimaced, moving her gun away from me.

"The feeling is mutual, sweetheart." He assured her.

With that, the girl backed off and strutted out of the room.

I held back the urge to yell her name. To shout out and ask if it was all really nothing but a deception. If every word, every touch, every kiss was really a fib to nurture my fantasies and drag me into this hell. Her trap. I simply wanted to know if she seriously meant to ruin me.

Did she?

What hurt worst was that even though she ruined me, I still thought she ruined me . . . with care.

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