Vicious was dead.
I had killed him. I shot him, with my gun. I was the one who walked into this syndicate building with the inentions of killing as many of them as I could, and, eventually, my most hated enemy. I had lost a freind, I had lost my own soul to get here, to this point and, yes, I had even lost the one who I loved with all my black little heart.
I lost Faye and Jet too.
The blood that seeped from the bullet wounds and the gashes from the sword was warm. It coated me and even as I felt my own body going cold the blood was warm with life. It was hot, practically scalding.
I had to get away from here. I couldnt let myself fall for the final time beside my one time freind and enemy. I limped towards the stairs, stumbling through the rubble of the wrecked building.
I had thought that upon killing Vicious i'd be ok. I'd get back the part of me i'd lost, I might even get Julia back . . . but I felt nothing. Nothing except death aproaching.
I was already dead anyway, so the only thing that awaited me me now was sleep.
Oh, blissful frest, I couldnt think of a better way to end the final chapter of the story that is my life. Happy endings only occur in fairy tales, after all.