"Why do you keep the diaries of the people you've killed?" She asked him, the innocence in her eyes enticed him. He would show her all of the bad in the world, this was only his first step.
"I feel like I should at least take the time to get to kno...
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Kingston, New York
December 2, 2018
03:47
I have to tell her.
Stepping into the warehouse after sunrise was a death wish.
There was blood, so much blood.
The sound of gunshots echoed in Ash's head, the screams permanently etched into his memory. Even the feeling of the bullet piercing through his abdomen was completely blocked out by the mind numbing feeling that spread through his body as he looked at each man laying on the ground.
Thirty eight souls had left this earth-- all by his hand.
Each safe house in the city of St. Petersburg was filled to the brim by the time Ash had finally boarded the plane back to the United States.
His injuries, were the least of his problems.
Ash hastily pulled the bullet from his wound, stitching himself up within a matter of minutes, knowing that if he didn't return home soon, he could never show his true self to Hazel, or continue to take out the villains of this chaotic world.
Each time he found himself drifting into unconsciousness, he reminded himself of the warm hazel eyes of his blonde, who had been waiting anxiously for Ash's return to the states.
In the days Ash was gone, Hazel found herself drowned in a sea of grief. Her days without the black haired teen were spent in various ways. Reading the books Ash had left her, allowing herself to be immersed in another world, until she found another one of Ash's notes-- each with another message, written in his perfectly messy handwriting.
She found herself spending more time with the twins, helping them with book reports-- while they helped her calm down from each panic attack-- at one point, Kolton brought Hazel a sweatshirt of Ash's, as it was the only thing that could calm her down.
The days seemed to drag on without knowing where Ash was, and each time Hazel asked one of the twins, they avoided the question.
She identified her fathers body at the morgue, and spoke to her fathers colleagues, each event of her past unveiled within minutes in an interviewing room. Her nights were filled with restless sleep, her warm eyes burning as she stared at the textured ceiling, her eyes drawing an invisible pattern only her mind knew.
It wasn't until early that Sunday morning, that Hazel heard the rushing sounds of footsteps through the halls of the Venator estate. Hushed words were exchanged between Ash's family, all anxiously awaiting the return of the injured boy.
