Page 190 of His Hell Girl

I don't care.

It might make me a horrible person, but I don't. I only care about one thing.

Him.

"Let me go to him. I can talk to him." I turn my tear-streaked eyes to Marcello, trying to get him to see reason.

"He's out of control, Sisi. Too dangerous. He'll kill you." His voice is grave as he answers, his gaze on Vlad as he's surveying his moves, slowly backing us away from him.

"He won't." I vigorously shake my head. "He really won't."

"He's not the Vlad you know anymore, Sisi. He's… gone."

"Don't," I gasp, my stomach rebelling, my entire being shattered at those words. "Don't."

He can't be gone.

I don't know what's happening, but I can't breathe. The entire room starts spinning as I gasp for air that won't come. My lungs feel full and empty at the same time, but no matter how much I try, I can't get a hold of myself.

I'm trembling from head to toe and even words fail me as I try to gain some control over myself.

My eyes misted, I feel my brother drag me back to the bleachers. He barks some orders, the words almost foreign. But as I look to the side, I see it.

Men. Soldiers. All armed.

And all pointing at Vlad.

"Marcello…" The words barely make it past my lips. "Wh-what's happening?"

"I'm sorry, Sisi. But he wouldn't want to put you in danger," he says grimly.

"Tell me it's not what I think it is," I whisper. "Tell me."

"I'm sorry, Sisi. He's gone. There's nothing we can do." He continues just as Vlad tackles some of the soldiers, ripping into them like a savage animal.

There's no conscience left. I know that. But he's still Vlad.

He's still my Vlad.

"Let me try. Please, don't do something you'll regret!" I beg him, trying to get my wrists free.

I just need to reach Vlad and everything will be fine. I know it.

Marcello's holding tightly onto me, all the while dragging me back and trying to put more distance between us and Vlad.

"Please, Marcello." I continue to beseech him, all the while trying to escape his grasp.

Looking down at me, he gives me a sad smile and a small shake of his head.

"Now," he yells.

Immediately, shots ring out. I jerk back, turning and watching in horror how Vlad falls to the ground, holes in his naked chest, blood pouring out.

"No, no, no," I mutter incoherently, and for the first time in my life I don't care about anything.

One brief moment of lucidity reminds me of the knives in my boots. Lifting one foot, I prop it on my other leg as I unsheathe the knife from the front of the boot. I don't think as I slash, stabbing my brother and startling him into loosening his hold on me.

Then I just dash.

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