(OLD) The events of the convention, Volume One

Chapter Twenty - Bonnie

You kill him.

The words echoed in her mind, her body complying and picking up the knife, while her mind screamed at her to not.

Moira smiled wickedly. And do it slowly. Finish with the eyes.

Bonnie's limbs finally betrayed her, and she slowly made her way forward. She felt like her soul was freezing over, her ears drowning in her own screams.

Chica and Freya gazed at her from Liam's sides, their faces betraying the same look of hopeless terror she was sure she had.

Her voice was barely a whisper.

I'm sorry.

Her arm crossed his torso, again and again. The knife in her hand left behind streaks of red as she went, like an artist painting a macabre picture. As her hand went up to his eyes, she thought about when she had first met him. How he had thought her eyes were beautiful. She added two more blots of red to the canvas.

Someone was screaming in agony, begging her to stop. Bonnie wasn't sure who it was.

She wouldn't have been surprised if it was her.

Moira was laughing, taking in the carnage like a child at a festival. I think that's about enough.

The knife fell to the floor, clattering loudly. It was as if Bonnie was Liam, watching his life drain out unto the floor in an ocean of red.

You two. Drop him.

He fell to the ground, splashing into the sea of blood.

You. She pointed to Bonnie. Pick him up. Put his body in the furnace. Then come back here and help your friends clean this up.

Her body moved without protest, her mind repeating like an insane rant that Liam was dead and gone.

And it was her fault.

As she opened the furnace door, his hand reached up and touched her cheek, rubbing it gently. A voice shakily came out.

Bonnie, it's all right. It doesn't hurt.

You could never hurt me. None of you could.

I'll come back for you, I promise.

She put him in and shut the door.

Then the screaming filled her head, and her mind broke.