Chapter Thirty Four #2
“Shut the fuck up. You are no father to me. You raised me to kill an innocent person and when I wouldn't, you tried killing me and taking matters into your own hands. Admit it now and I’ll show mercy.” He barely controls his rage as he speaks.
“Oh, that’s not all you did. Now is it Dominic?” I say in a mocking tone.
“What-what is she talking about? Tell me right the fuck now or so help me.” Ghost says as he inches closer to him. Dominic rapidly shakes his head, refusing to answer.
“Fine, I will.” I move to stand next to Ghost. This next piece of information is likely going to be what breaks his self control.
“Just before we captured him, he was talking with some of the cartel members. He admitted to being behind the plane crash but that’s not all. There was a trade for their help.” I say in a gentle tone, hoping to smooth the war raging in his eyes.
“What kind of trade?” Guarded confusion dances on his expression but I push on. He needs to know.
“A virgin.” I breathe out, like it's a relief to let go of this information.
“You son of a bi-” Ghost screams as he charges Dominic but I throw a hand out fast enough to stop him. I don't know when or if Scarlett will ever be ready to share what happened here. Therefore, I must be the one to tell Ghost this final blow.
“Wait, I’m not done. He didn’t just trade her Ghost.” I beg internally that he will catch on. That I won’t have to say what horrific thing he did.
“What are you saying?” The tone of Ghost’s voice hangs heavy with denial. Like he knows but he doesn't want to believe it.
“He-” I begin before an angelic voice cuts through the room.
“He was the first one to- break me in.” Scarlett says while stuttering, feet away from our group.
Like she’s reciting an exact line of words she’s heard.
As if there are kinder words to use but she feels compelled to speak plainly instead.
Ghost doesn't move. Doesn’t even react and that scares me worst of all.
“Well that’s it then. We know everything.
” I say after a moment, not knowing how else to proceed.
Then Dominic laughs. He laughs, but not in your ordinary dark humor or inappropriate response to trauma kind of way.
He laughs in a victorious, pure evil kind of way.
The kind of menacing laugh only someone who knows they will win could offer.
“You *laugh* think *laugh* that’s *laugh* the worst thing I've done? Oh..” His laughter slowly dies off.
“Do you know how she got the street name, The Siren?” Dominic asks Ghost.
“Yes.” It’s only one word but it holds so much emotion.
“But do you know who gave it to her? Who got her screaming so loud, for so long, that she couldn’t speak for weeks after? Did you know who broke her in for the first time? Who put her in that little hell hole?” The color drains from my face, as my heart pounds, and my stomach churns.
“Me.” There it is. All my pain and…strength comes from this man.
He is the man that made me colder, meaner, more resilient to pain, and most importantly, a better killer.
He made me just as much as he turned Blake into Ghost. Ghost screaming like a rabid beast pulls me from my thoughts but I hold him back. For what, I don't know.
“You needed to learn! To toughen up! You were always so soft on her. You were so dick whipped, you were becoming a liability and an embarrassment. So you needed to be taught a lesson. She was supposed to die but the Spanish couldn’t get their shit together.
They slipped up.” Dominic breathes out a pained breath. It all ends here.
Walking towards Dominic, I stand over his body examining the man I once saved.
A man that raped not only a child, but also his own daughter.
A man that tortured me for over a year. A man that tortured his own son, mentally and likely physically too.
A man that has caused thousands of deaths.
A man that- a thought hits me, pausing my previous mental processes.
“Do you fear death, Dominic?” I ask while creeping towards him.
“Doesn’t everyone?” He questions rhetorically.
“No. See the thing is… you may fear Death but you haven’t met her yet. I have. And you want to know what she did? She spit me back out. Not once, but dozens of times.” I lunge downward, falling into a screwed position while each leg rests on either side of his waist.
“The thing about Death is that she only fears what she can’t have, Dominic. She’s tried time and time again, each ending in failure.” I reach out and pull his head up by the hair, forcing him inches from my face.
“You may fear her, but she bows to me. Do you want to know why? I am much, much worse.” I smile menacingly before I lean down and kiss his forehead.
“That was for Scarlett.” I kiss him again.
“That was for Ghost.” Another kiss.
“That was for all of the lives you have taken.” Last kiss.
“And that, that was for Aria.” I say with restitution.
“Who the fuck is Aria?” Dominic asks hardly.
“The girl you also tortured and assaulted in that place.” I spit venom.
“Ah, yes. Pretty little thing wasn’t she? Her family owed me money. They couldn’t pay up so I took something of equal value. Once she was used well and good, we turned her into a snuff film.” He smiles up at me.
“I see. Well, good thing we are making one of our own right?” I point down to the camera that is situated on my vest.
I throw his head backwards and stand. Taking several steps away, I turn to Ghost and then whistle.
Their low growls bounce off the walls in echoes.
One by one, they slink their way between the men standing around us.
They snap and snarl, looking for permission to descend on our target.
Begging to surrender themselves to their primal urges.
Aren’t we all like that though? Begging to release ourselves from whatever restraints keep us from our base desires.
That's the thing about this world, it's not black and white. It’s gray. When you look closer, you'll see hues and tones. You’ll find not some dismal gray but a kaleidoscope of silver, ash, graphite, porpoise, charcoal, slate, and even steel. Life isn’t good vs evil either.
It’s opposite sides of the same coin. A bird isn’t all bad when its nest inevitably breaks a branch.
For that branch dropped a seed which grew into an immense Redwood tree.
A man is not all good for offering a homeless person a meal.
For that man is a disingenuous virtue signaler.
He offers kindness because it makes him feel good, not because it's the right thing to do.
So drop the restraints, do what feels right to you, and bask in the hue that is morally gray.
“Avanti.” I command, causing the dogs to step forward. Closing the distance between them and Dominic. (Forward)
“Guarda.” The dogs drop their gazes from me, locking onto their target. (Watch)
“Mangiare.” I say with so much conviction, a few of my men gasp. (Eat)
The dogs descend onto him. He screams in agony as they each take hold of him.
One after the other, they rip flesh from bone.
Limb from body. All while I watch. I refuse to look away as Dominic begs for mercy.
Not even when the dogs consume him piece by piece.
I do not look away until the room falls into utter silence and the dogs feel satiated.
It’s then that I feel contentment. Dominic was not given peace, mercy, nor retribution because he never offered those to his victims. He deserved nothing but to be disposed of in some nondescript place where he will never be found or put to rest.
“That? That was for me.” I say to the corpse.
Turning around, I find the most important people in my life.
Ghost stands stoically, watching as the dogs consume his father.
His face rests with a different version of the same expression mine harbors.
Relief. Looking over I find Scarlett nestled amongst the arms of James, Ryon, and Lucas.
They each wrap themselves around her, both in comfort and defense.
She leans into their touches unlike her earlier reaction to Ghost’s attempts.
Walking to Ghost, I wrap my arms around his torso and give a small squeeze.
After some time, his arms wrap around me like a blanket of warmth.
We stand like this for a moment before I pull away.
Looking up, we stare into each other's eyes sharing thoughts only the other could decipher.
So much can be said with so little sound.
I savor this feeling for as long as I can before I recognize the need to leave the area.
Stepping back, we collect each other’s hand and begin to walk away before Ghost halts our movements.
Dropping my hand, he walks over to what is left of his father and collects the pendant sitting amongst the mess.
He takes a moment of looking it over before he stuffs it in his pocket, reclaims my hand, and leads the way.
I whistle to the dogs, observing them as they pass us to climb the stairs.
We all retrace our steps, leaving the building one by one, discarding our connection to the man on the ground as we do.
I watch as Scarlett walks like a queen surrounded by her court, James to her left, Lucas to her right, and Ryon behind her.
They create a deadly wall of power, shielding her devotedly.
I had previously had my suspicions about how they all seemed to have an attachment to her, remembering the dinner where Ghost and I held each other at gunpoint.
I thought of the way they would all be in competition but it seems it has settled itself.
Ryon and Lucas are obviously a thing but interestingly also have feelings for Scarlett.
Completing their dynamic is James. I feel no sense of judgement as I look at this group.
If they have managed to find a system where they all feel love and support, I am happy for them.
Polyamory is not a new concept and if they hope for my blessing, there is no need.
I love them all individually and want nothing more than for them to find connection, even if that means amongst each other.
I make a mental note to discuss this with them at a later time.
We claim our places in our respective vehicles.
Ghost drives while I sit beside him. The guys climb into the rear just as Scarlett nests herself between their large frames.
My eyes dance between their figures, thoughts mulling over today's events; compartmentalizing the untold destruction within it. Choosing to play music quietly, hoping to drown out these thoughts, my hand reaches for the dials. A softer melody dances over the speakers just as Scarlett’s voice cuts through it.
I look into the rear view mirror, offering a questioning look as I hadn’t been able to make out what she said.
“How…” she trails off.
“How what, hm?” I question.
“How will someone ever love me? I’m ruined.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. A stray tear rolls from her eye to the tip of her nose and juts off, disappearing below her face.
My stomach tightens just as we all lurch forward, Ghost slamming on the breaks beside me.
We squeal to a stop and I take a moment to collect my emotions.
Pushing them down until they are nothing more than an idea.
Twisting around in my seat, I gather her attention and hold eye contact.
What I am about to say is violently vulnerable and I need it to land.
I needed someone to tell me this, all those years ago, but no one truly understood what I had experienced.
I wish I didn’t have to be that person for Scarlett but I am selfishly grateful that I am.
“You, Scarlet Mikaelson, are not ruined. You are not dirty. You are not broken. I know that because you are here. Your scars aren’t ugly.
They are an unfair parallel to your burdensome experiences.
You did not deserve what has happened to you.
You did not ask for it. You did not earn it.
You are not your trauma. You are a survivor.
You are worthy of love. Those were bad people that did bad things and you were the target.
You can choose to be a victim or you can choose to be a survivor.
That is not something anyone else can choose for you.
You have to decide that on your own, but I can tell you that trauma also makes you stronger.
It makes you harder to hurt the next time.
Don’t let anyone ever define your worth.
If they can’t see past your scars, then they are undeserving of knowing you.
They are unworthy. They are ruined. They are not enough.
You will find someone, or someones, that will see your waning fire and stoke it.
They will nurture and feed it. They will see your light in all its glory.
” My eyes don’t fall when I’m done speaking.
I want her to know, devoutly, that she will always be enough.
“I-okay.” Her voice is still low but stronger now. More confident than before.
I turn back around in my seat but not before passing a small look to Ghost, his eyes softened in awe.
As if he can read my mind, he knows that speech came from a place in me that I have tried hard to keep from surfacing.
No more. I will never again fall victim to the hands of evil.
For death runs from me. Hides within me like a coiled serpent in the brush.
I am Death. The bestowed violence of retribution.
The hand that feeds the demons of chaos. The darkness that quiets the world.