Page 84 of Colton
His breathing is shallow, wheezing through blood and spit, his face twisted with agony as he tries to form words. The scent of blood and fear fills the room, mixing with the rust of old chains and sweat. It’s sickening and intoxicating, a smell I realize I could get used to if it meant freedom for her.
Luella steps forward, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light. She picks up the severed tongue, holding it between herthumb and forefinger as if inspecting a particularly repulsive insect.
“Such a nasty little thing,” she murmurs, her voice laced with disgust. Then, with a swift, decisive movement, she shoves it into Xavier’s bleeding mouth. His scream is choked off, morphing into a guttural gurgle.
She doesn’t stop until he swallows it, and I watch in fascination as he struggles, his eyes popping out of his head as he tries to gulp it down or spit it out. He starts gagging, his face turning blue before my very eyes.
“That’s for every lie you ever told,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above his strangled cries. Luella shoves her fingers into his mouth, forcing the tongue down his throat.
Fucking hell. This woman is something else.
My breath catches in my throat, a mixture of admiration and awe swirling within me. I can’t believe how far Luella has gone, but at this moment, I understand. She is channeling the pain of losing her sister, of every woman he’s ever brutalized, and it’s beautiful.
Xavier’s eyes roll frantically in their sockets, terror gripping his features as he struggles, desperate for even the slightest breath. I can see his world collapsing around him, the realization hitting him that the power he’s wielded for years is crumbling into nothing. His skin turns blue from lack of oxygen, and my heart beats frantically in my chest.
It’s happening. He’s dying.
His eyes meet mine, a final plea of desperation that sends a shudder of satisfaction through my veins. No words can escape his lips, only a cacophony of choked gasps that echo through the dingy room.
But Luella is relentless. She lingers over him, a dark goddess in this horrifying sanctuary, her presence commanding and consuming. “You see, Xavier,” she taunts softly, “the beauty inyour demise is that it’s not just the end—it’s a reckoning. Every life you took, and you relished in their suffering, has led to this very moment. Welcome to justice.”
He panics, but it’s futile. I can almost taste the victory on my tongue, the sweet satisfaction of witnessing a monster meeting his end. I glance at Luella as she leans closer.
“Tell me,” she whispers, “was it worth it? All those lives shattered for your pleasure? An empire built on the ruins of innocence?”
Each question cuts deeper, and I’m reminded of just how far we’ve come. To her, this isn’t just revenge; it’s a retribution, an act of claiming back the darkness he’s spread. I can barely breathe as she tilts her head, waiting for an answer she’ll never receive, her eyes glimmering with rage and triumph.
With a final, desperate gasp, Xavier tries one last time to protest, but his voice is barely a whisper now. Panic surges in his eyes, scattering any hint of defiance he once held, dissolving into the inevitable truth: this is the end.
I watch as he stills, his body limp beneath Luella’s unforgiving grip. The room is silent save for the soft drip of blood pooling on the floor. As his body goes limp, something cold inside me finally thaws. I’ve cut the last thread to the man who twisted my life, who tried to make me in his image. I look down at the blood pooling around him and know it’s not just his—it’s the blood of every woman, every life he crushed.
Luella lifts her blood-stained hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her breaths heavy but steadying as the adrenaline begins to fade. She looks down at Xavier’s lifeless form, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat before a slow smile creeps across her lips. In that moment, she transforms; the terrorized victim I’d known has disappeared, replaced by a fierce warrior, triumphant in her conquest.
“You’re free now,” she murmurs, almost reverently, as if speaking to the specters of the women he’d tormented, the lives he’d extinguished. She turns to me, her chest still heaving with the remnants of her fight. “You’re free, too.”
I watch the last flicker of life leave his eyes and with it, the hold he had on us. I’ve lived in his shadow for years, but with the darkness finally fading, I realize this isn’t an ending. It’s our beginning.
Part two
One year later
LUELLA
Ilove that my new life is predictable, almost soothing. Wake up, make coffee, watch the sun rise over the rooftops of this sleepy town. It’s nothing like Archer Bay, and that’s exactly why I chose it. The silence here is different—not the suffocating kind that Archer Bay imposed, but a quiet that lets me breathe. I stir my coffee, the clink of the spoon against the mug echoing through my small, tidy kitchen. The scent is comforting, a reminder of normality.
Just a normal girl in a normal apartment. There are no monsters hiding under her bed, not anymore.
Yet, as I sip the hot liquid, there’s a flutter in my chest, a brief memory of Colton. His voice, his touch, the way he would stand at the window, ever watchful. It’s like a ghost, lingering at the edges of my consciousness. I shake my head, trying to banish the thought. This is my life now—simple, peaceful. I’m Luella again, not Mary. Just Luella, making coffee in a quiet town.
As I walk to the local market, the breeze is cool and refreshing. The streets are familiar now, no longer strange. Butthere’s a prickle at the back of my neck, a faint sense of being watched. I glance around, casually checking the reflections in shop windows. Nothing. Just the usual faces, going about their daily routines. I tell myself it’s paranoia, the old instincts that kept me alive in Archer Bay refusing to fade.
Maybe the paranoia will never go away.
COLTON
The room is dark, the only light coming from the screens in front of me. I watch her, my eyes tracing Luella’s movements as she walks through the town of Meadowgrove. The footage is crisp, detailed. I can see the way her hair catches the sunlight, the slight tension in her shoulders as she looks around. She feels it—the weight of my gaze, even from a distance. I tell myself it’s protection, not possession. But the lines blur, they’re always blurring with her.
She’s so fucking beautiful. Even after all this time...it’s only her.
