Too bad I’ll never get the chance to ask him.
I focus my thoughts on my surroundings, again letting my senses take the reins. There’s only one high window from what I can see. Beyond that there’s grass and dirt. I have to be in a basement. I don’t hear any cars or foot traffic. The only thing I smell is blood and maybe…paint? The light seems dimmer. How long have I been down here?
Noticing my roaming eyes, Xavier closes the distance between us in one swift step, clutching my jaw in one of his large, blood-tinged hands. “Don’t even think about escaping. There’s no way you can get away. No one can save you. Just accept this death as your destiny, child.”
“No,” I grit through my sore, smashed cheeks between his fingers. “It’s not. And you don’t have to do this, Xavier. You’re a good guy. Don’t do this.”
He rips his hand away and doubles over into a theatrical guffaw. “What? You think by telling me I’m a good guy, I will miraculously change my mind?”
The sound of his hearty laughter infuriates me but I resist the urge to spew insults. “But you are good, X. Me and you could’ve been good friends. What would Carlos and Jackson and Morgan do once they learn what you’ve done? You can’t tell me you don’t care for them.”
“Care for them?” he sneers. “I don’t even like them. I despise them. What they are, what they represent…it’s every corrupt thing in this world. The reason why you should not be able to live. It will be just one more example of depravity & immorality.”
I muster the last bit of awareness in me, the tiny bit of sanity I am hanging onto for dear life, and try to give him a sympathetic smile. “But you can change that. Right here and now. You can show that goodness and Light always prevails. You can walk out of here knowing that you did the right thing. Please, Xavier,” I plead. “Don’t let your pain push you into something you’re not. Don’t let your Light die and become a ghost of what you were because you were hurt. You’re better than that. Stronger than that.”
He looks at me for a thoughtful moment, contemplating the alternative. Somewhere deep inside him, goodness stirs, beckoning him to return to what he truly his. To his true purpose. To the Light. I hold my breath, hoping- praying- that part of him isn’t gone forever.
Xavier’s mouth turns up into a menacing leer, shattering my last shred of hope. All remnants of sympathy for him seep out of me with my trickling blood. “You think I’m stupid, girl? You think you can trick me into letting you go? Do. You. Know. Who. The. Fuck. I. Am!?” he screams in my face, suddenly hovering over me. Then his fist slams down onto my chest, stealing all the air from my lungs with a crack. I try to take a breath through the immense pain, but I can’t. I can’t breathe. Something is terribly wrong. My eyes grow horrified and panicked, as I silently plead for relief. Oh my God, I’m dying. I am really dying. I wheeze and pant, only swallowing tiny wisps of air. It’s not enough. Not enough to keep me alive.
Xavier looks down at me with a satisfied grin, amused at the labored sounds of my injured lung. He could easily heal me yet he enjoys seeing me struggle for just the tiniest bit of oxygen. After a minute or so, he slowly brings his face to mine. He sees the life slipping away from me and wants to keep me alive just so he can kill me later. Sick, sadistic, twisted fuck.
Just before his lips touch mine, his head snaps up, his golden irises blazing with fiery rage. “Impossible!” he seethes.
Instantaneously, the entire room erupts into a quake, the slab underneath me shaking violently. I can feel the shift in the air turn dense with cracking energy. I can almost see tiny particles of electricity swirling around me, cocooning our bodies.
“No!” Xavier grits. His hand is now on my neck, squeezing harder than I thought was possible, cutting off the sliver of oxygen I had just seconds ago. He hisses at something out of my line of sight. “No! If I can’t have you than neither can he!”
The strain is too much, and I’ve been without air for longer than my battered body can take. I can’t fight anymore. There is no more fight left in me. It’s bled out of the gaping wounds that riddle my entire frame, staining the grey cement a deep crimson. Unconsciousness is so close, its warm blanket of comfort and oblivion outstretched to greet me. I want it. I need it in these final moments. Then with the wet, sickening crunch of my windpipe, my horrified eyes fall to small slits. And just as I let them close completely, before diving into my painless oasis, I see a flash of brilliant blue light and hear a low, terrifying growl.