Fatality ━━ Matt vs Chris Sturniolo²

𝖑𝖝𝖛𝖎. Chris' Coffin

[ tw: violence, major character death ]

𝖑𝖝𝖛𝖎. Chris' Coffin

Maeve

THE ROOM IS A COFFIN. A maw of stone that will swallow Maeve whole. She feels dead, even on the threshold, hesitating to fully succumb to this place and the person who built it.

Her heart pounds so loudly she knows Chris can hear it.

His eyes trace over her in a way that's too familiar and too close, despite the yards between them. He focuses on her throat, on the vein pulsing with all her fear. She expects him to lick his lips. Her hand flexes in vain, attempting to call up a bolt of lightning. All she gets are weak sparks, darkly purple, dying quickly against the might of so much Silent Stone.

Something gleams in his hand, flashing in the dim light. A knife, Maeve thinks, thin and small but sharp enough.

Her hand strays to her hip, for the pistol Tristan harangued her into wearing. But the holster is gone entirely, probably lost in the Bridge collapse. She gulps again. She has no weapons at all.

And Chris knows it.

He grins, teeth white and wicked. "Aren't you going to try to stop me?" he says, tipping his head like some curious puppy.

Her mouth feels dry when she speaks. "Don't make me do this, Chris." It comes out raspy.

Chris just shrugs. Somehow, he manages to make his simply grey clothing look like silk and fur and steel. He isn't a king anymore, but no one seems to have told him.

"I'm not making you do anything," he says imperiously. "You don't have to suffer this. You can stand right there, or even turn around. It makes no difference to me."

She forces another breath, stronger than before. The top-familiar memory of Silent Stone claws up her spine. "Don't make me kill you like this," she says lowly, sounding dangerous and lethal.

"What are you going to do, stare at me?" he shoots back dryly. "I'm terrified."

It's a brash show, his forced nonchalance. Maeve knows Chris well enough to see the truth in his words, the real fear weaving through his practiced arrogance. His eyes dart, quicker than before, not over her face, but her feet. So he can move when she moves. Run when she lunges.

In spite of the dagger, he's without his weapons, too.

Maeve doesn't tremble when she takes the first, slow step, sliding into the prison of Silent Stone. But ━ she does think of the future Kol showed her up on the mountain. The future she should have had. Not the future she will.