Destroyed(118)

I snapped.

I hated this man. Hated. Fucking hated.

Kill. Sever. Bleed. Devour.

In the moment of choice between stealing a life and torturing a soul free from its mortal body, I switched from human to machine. I didn’t want to dispatch him quickly. I wanted to make him pay. Pay for everything he’d done to me, to my loved ones, to countless other victims.

He would f*cking pay for his trespasses and then he would burn in hell.

My mind shut down.

And I vanished into ruthless revenge.





I watched her.

From my place in the shadows, I watched the woman I wanted more than anything.

I didn’t mean to stalk her. To follow in secret and witness her private sorrow, but I couldn’t go to her. Time and time again, I tried to move my legs and walk to her, but I didn’t trust myself. I wanted to wipe away her tears, and hold her. I wanted to rock and console her, but although I’d found hope, I hadn’t found a cure.

My jaw gritted as my heart raced. Anger and frustration had replaced the iciness of the conditioning. After I’d finished with my handler and the massacre of three nights ago, I’d showered and dressed and bandaged my wounds. I’d boarded a plane and returned from frost to sunshine and hoped it was over.

Whenever I tried to recall that night, only fragments returned. I couldn’t remember in detail what happened. I remembered walking over body parts and opening the doors wide so local scavengers could clean up my mess. I remembered a red cascade of blood sluice down the drain in the shower. Some of it mine, but most of it from my handler. I remembered the stench of fear coming from a man who’d brutalized me all my life. I remembered his screams, and the blessed relief I felt as the obedience of my past slowly unbound its tight web around me.

My conditioning weakened the moment he died. It was as if the orders in my head melted from blizzard to softly falling snow, granting a reprieve from the agony of ice.

I wanted to rejoice at my newfound freedom, but then I mourned because instead of being completely unhindered, I was only marginally free. The Ghost persona hadn’t fully gone. And I grieved everything I would lose because of it.

I would never be normal. I would never be able to fully relax and sleep harmlessly beside Hazel. I would always have to monitor my thoughts and actions.

I was f*cking exhausted, and there was no respite in sight.

Behind my sunglasses, and hiding place by the cafe across the road, I watched as Hazel and Clue disappeared into a second-hand shop. I hated having her out of my sight.

For three nights and two days, I followed her. I slept outside her flat in my car. I had countless conversations with her in my head. I acted out exactly how I would go to her and how I would apologise. But every scenario didn’t end well, and my confidence deserted me.

How could I say sorry for leaving when her daughter died? How could I beg forgiveness for being a man who would never be able to hold her?

So, I stayed in the dark and watched her go through the motions of life. She barely left the apartment and it gave me plenty of time to figure out how to do something—not for Hazel, but for Clara.

I used her love of horses as inspiration for her final resting place and I called the one person who I knew would execute my plan flawlessly all while being there for Zel.

When Clue answered the phone, I almost broke down and asked to talk to her. To murmur condolences and tell her how I felt, but I stayed focused and stuck to the plan. Clue had taken my offer with eager arms and within a day, she’d dragged Zel out of the house to make preparations.

With my heart racing, I charged across the street. Entering the second-hand shop, I made sure Hazel didn’t see me and ducked behind shelving groaning with knick knacks and paraphernalia. A whiff of dust and ancient belongings filled my nose.

Clue and Hazel were at the back of the shop. I moved closer, staying hidden so I could hear what they said.

“How about this one, Zelly?” Clue held up a bright pink, plastic pony with see-through wings.

Hazel smiled softly. “Yes. She always wanted a Pegasus.”

Clue laughed quietly and reached out to hug her. “That’s true.”

They clung to each other.

My heart squeezed with jealousy. I cursed the unfairness—the f*cked-up mind I lived with. It should be me holding her and sharing tales of a little girl taken too soon. But I was also grateful that Clue was there for her.

The two women parted, before rummaging around in a bin full of toys. Glittery ponies, bright blue and rainbow ponies—they came out and were placed into a basket.

“You know, I bet she’s watching us right now and laughing.”

Zel looked up, her skin dull with grief. “What do you mean?”

Clue smiled. “Well, she probably has a real Pegasus and unicorn by now. And she’ll be laughing thinking how much we’re missing out on. How silly these plastic things are.” She flicked the tail of one glow in the dark horse.

Zel looked down at the yellow pony in her hands. “I like to think of her like that—surrounded by things she loves.” She sniffed, giving a watery smile. “I know I’ve had time to prepare for her passing. I know the doctors told me what to expect and what stages of grief I would go through, but nothing fully prepares you for it.”

Clue stopped rummaging and gave Zel her full attention.

“I keep thinking she’s just around the corner. I’ll see the tip of her hair disappearing around a building, or hear her voice on the breeze.” Zel’s eyes welled up and my heart shattered. “I keep hoping she’ll come bounding home from school, or trail bubble bath all over the floor.” She rubbed the centre of her chest as her voice turned thready with sadness. “I miss her so f*cking much it hurts. It hurts in my head, my eyes, my back, my soul. It doesn’t matter that I know she’s in a better place. It doesn’t make it any easier knowing she’s no longer in pain.”