The Ghost Who Died For Him

e a pile of shattered wreckage. He let out another cou

arely audible. "Kayla... she's really gone." His eyes were

that moment. His face twisted, the mas

e roared, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls. "You think

d ribs. Jaron whimpered, curling into a tigh

your own future," Elliot spat, "let's see if y

gers. Make sure he

ng out a phanto

futile shout that di

ands, his li

r beyond anything I could have ever im

ning away with every act of vio

d immediately by another, e

and piercing, as if they wer

omething precious bei

ldn't look away. My eyes were forc

ssion unreadable, standing like

a taunt in his voice. "Does it hurt now? Does it hurt enou

ging deep into my chest. He was mocking

ble and elegant, were n

tural angles, dark red blood

ere all trampled to dust

sharply. This wasn't the Elliot I knew. Th

monster forged from d

ked out again. "Kayla... s

g a hand dismissively

lous lie." He paced for a moment, his jaw tig

a heavy door in the corner o

ut, dragging a small, f

ion bl

't be. It cou

o hoarse no sound came out; i

ar

let out a raspy cry from the floo

ale, her silver hair disheveled, as

ous, her head lo

d across the face, roughly pul

ainst the glaring light, and then her e

voice hitched, tearin

weak body trembling. Her gaze landed on Jaron's

n?" she screamed at Elliot, her voice f

eered, his face

ng out to roughly grab her ch

? Do you remember baking me apple pies? Look at you now,

ecious daughter is, and all of this en

ining table, laughing along with Mom as she

respectful, so ge

garbage, as if she were merely a

heeks, her eyes filled with unspeakable sorrow. "My Kayla is go

s naked, heart

s remained cold a

me!" he roared, sho

lapsing to her kn

l? Kayla would never do

re she is, or your son will suffer even more." He ge

re returning to Elliot, her face

es rolled back into her head, and she colla

flash of irritation in his ey

r away. Keep Jaron locked up here. Until Kayla shows her face, he do

, his pho

softened, standing in jarring contrast to t

voice dripping with tenderness. "Yes, I'm still ha

lessly switching between a brut

sgust washed

tion, or perhaps, he was

ill lingering in his eyes swept over my family's b

ated tale of love and betrayal, while my famil

etching itself deep into t

ke? Three years ago, maybe