Page 112 of Downfall

I can smell the smoke even more now but I can smell something so much worse. The stench of flesh. Of bodies burnt beyond recognition. I stop as my eyes find them. The women and children we’d rescued. They’ve butchered them. Massacred them.

I start shaking. Not from fear but from cold unrelenting fury because this is my fault. My mistake. I left them here. I thought this place was safe. I left them like low hanging fruit to be picked off and killed. I let out a snarl so loud as my anger flashes through me. Capulet is going to pay for this. And I mean really fucking pay this time.

“Roman.”

We both turn at the sound.

“Sofia?” I gasp her name. She’s covered in blood, covered in dirt.

“What took you so long?” She mumbles before rushing to me and burying herself in my arms.

“I’m so sorry.” I reply.

She starts sobbing as I brush her hair back. Christ what’s she’s been through? I pull her face up to examine it. “Are you hurt?” I ask.

“I’ll be okay. The others are being seen too.” She says with a tight smile that I don’t let fool me for a second.

“What others?” Ben asks.

She looks over at him then back at me. “We heard them taking out the gates. We tried to get out the back but they’d surrounded the place. Some of us were able to hide but…” She trails off as her eyes fall on the mass of people who didn’t make it.

“Let’s go.” I say pulling her away. She’s seen enough shit already. She doesn’t need to see anymore horror.

As we get out the front she takes a deep exhale of air. Ben is hovering, obviously wanting to comfort her but she’s making it more than clear that she doesn’t want that.

I can see the others now, the women and children that did manage to survive. Amongst them is that same small child we pulled from the cages. She looks so traumatised I wonder if even a lifetime worth of therapy will make any difference.

“Get Sofia out of here.” Ben says.

“What about you?” I ask.

“I’ve got this.” He says. “You focus on her.”

I nod tightening my grip around my sister. She might not be seriously injured but what she went through is enough.

I help her into the car reaching around to pull the seatbelt over her.

“I’m getting your leather dirty.” She mutters looking down at where the blood and dirt is now smeared across it.

“It doesn’t matter.” I say.

“You love this car.” She replies.

I cup her cheek. “Cars are replaceable. You are not.”

Her eyes swell at that. She starts sobbing again and I hug her once more.

But as we drive away back to our home the question keeps reverberating through my head. How the hell did they know about this place? How the hell did they find out?

Rose

Itake a shower. Then another. I feel dirty. Used. Disgusting.

I know why I did it. I know it made sense and yet right now those reasons aren’t enough to rid myself of the guilt and disgust.

I tricked him. I betrayed him.

I’m just as bad as he is now. Just as hateful.

---