Welcome to Hell || McLennon

Chapter Fourteen

John looks with a shock at a sharp object in his hand. It's a knife. A fucking knife. What is he supposed to do with this?
Paul gives him a pleading gaze. Gaze that says 'Come on. Just do it'.
His lover looks so desperate. But how can he hurt him?
"No" Lennon says coldly.
Paul hugs him tightly, hiding head in his chest.
"No"
Paul whispers something; begs him.
"No. For God's sake, I love you, I can't kill you!"
"That's why you should do it" McCartney's voice is shaking a bit. "Please, John. You know we have to do it. I've prepared myself. I'm ready"
Lennon looks deep in his doe-eyes. How can he hurt a man like Paul? A love of his life? They were best friends. Playing in the same band they've reached the top. And now they're here. Lovers.

In his entire life, John has never expected that Macca would beg him to kill him. He takes a knife and delicately flaps Paul's neck with it.
"Are you dead already?"
McCartney slowly raises his hand and touches the skin; there's no blood at all.
"Nope"
John sighs with resignation. "I can't do this. It's too hard"
"I know you can, Johnny" His eyes are piercing through Lennon's soul, persuading him.
He throws his hands in despair. "Okay, but what if something goes wrong?"
"There's nothing that can go wrong now" Macca shrugs.
And then they don't say anything. There are only the two of them and the silence.

Paul's heart beats really fast because he knows the decision is made. John is going to do that. That's the last moment to change his mind.
"So... See you at the other side, Paulie" The older man walks to him, closing the gap between the two of them and kisses him passionately.
McCartney's hand runs through his hair, their mouths open, and tongues meet, breaths mix – for the last time in this world. But not the last time at all, he hopes.
"See you" Lennon raises a knife, but soon after that lowers it. "I don't want you to... you know, suffer"
"I'll be fine" Although Paul looks pretty sure, his voice is a weak whisper.
He looks up and then down. He takes a deep breath. He's ready, isn't he? Silence sounds like the loudest noise. They're both shaking from the fear.
John slowly and like in a trance takes his lover's hand and holds it tightly, putting a knife to his throat. He begs for a forgiveness inwardly.

Macca closes his eyes. His whole life flashes in front of him. In one second, he sees his younger self. His family, friends. Growing up. The Beatles, playing together. Concerts all over the world. Fame. Happiness. His wife and children. Lennon moves the knife along McCartney's throat really fast. Blood spills everywhere, flooding him, flooding John and everything around in a hot crimson.
Paul's knees bends. He falls down, slowly, like a wilting flower. John drops the knife and catches his soft body in arms and starts to cry.
"Paulie! No! Please! Forgive me! I'm so sorry" He hugs his lover's body, not caring about the blood, not caring about anything.
His heart doesn't beat. Paul McCartney is dead. And he, John Lennon, holds him tightly, never wanting to let go. Finally, he releases him and gets up, sobbing like a mad.

What has he done? He's not gonna leave him like that. John comes to a telephone and dials the emergency number, trying to change his voice as he can, not wanting to be recognized right now. That's the last thing he needs.
"Hello? I need a help. Immediately" He gives an address and hangs up.
He stands like that for a while and forces himself to look at the body again.
Paul looks... almost like he's sleeping. Despite the blood, of course. His face is so calm. Free from all the worries. John sighs deeply, bends down and brushes away a fringe from his eyes. Something makes him soak his hands in this blood; it also makes him go to the wall. Hand, as if it was conscious, writes letters on the wall.

Love is all you need

After that, he wipes a lonely tear away and disappears, living the whole home empty.

THE END