Shit happens.
Have you ever been betrayed by someone that you cared for? Someone that you loved? Someone that you thought would never hurt you, never hate you, no matter what you did or the situation that you were in?
I have.
She begged me to shoot her, to save myself because she wanted to do that, if it was the last thing she did.
I didn't want to shoot her. I truly didn't, but she kept begging me to. I figure because it would be much less painful that a saw blade cutting through her skull and slowly ripping her head in half.
I suppose that I did it because she begged me too, but also because I couldn't deal with seeing her sawed in half. Watching the blade rip into her soft flesh and hear her scream bloody murder as it buzzed into her beautiful brain and destroyed all her thoughts.
I could see the fear in her eyes, most likely reflecting my own fear as I removed the gun from underneath my chin. I stared into her eyes, trying to tell her that I didn't want to shoot her, but as she opened her mouth, screaming for me to shoot her, I pointed the gun and shot.
Honestly, I thought that maybe I was giving a mercy kill. I'm sure she didn't want to see me kill myself in front of her. I'm sure she didn't want to be left alone with the killer if I had shot myself.
I was so sure she didn't want to see me die.
But I was WRONG.
She watched me running to the door, fleeing for my life from the terror of the Wendigo that was chasing me.
And I watched as she backed away from the door, the look in her eyes was full of coldness. Death. My death.
And that is what I received.
Cold, dark death clutching my shoulder and shoving its decrepit, monstrous hand through my throat.
It was a quick death, and I only felt slight pain, yet it was still a death. My death.
If you had asked me earlier if i believed that I would become a vengeful spirit, I would've laughed out loud and called you an idiot, but now I couldn't concur more. I could feel the skin that wasn't correctly put back together, the scar on my neck that told me how a died. A constant reminder that there was nothing i could do.
I stood in the lodge, looking around, knowing that my physical body was out in the could, most likely the mines being eaten.
I glanced around, seeing Sam and Mike, while Emily rushed out the back door.
And when I was staring at Ashley as she shifted her legs meekly backwards, trying to quickly escape the cabin along with Emily from the Wendigos, I stood beside Sam.
I could see the flicker of unsureness of what to do; to call out and save Ashley, or to run to the light switch and kill the Wendigos. I smiled, sickly.
"Don't move, Sam."
I saw her head turn at my ghostly whisper, and I knew that she couldn't see me. I knew that it would be too late for her to save Ashley now.
A scream erupted from Ashley's throat, raw and petrified as I stared blankly at the Wendigo grabbing her face, and gouging its thumbs into her eye sockets.
I walked, or rather floated over to Ashley's corpse as Sam ran to the exit and Mike lit his lighter, setting the cabin a blaze, killing the monsters that plagued us.
"Why can't I see?"
A small weep came from her. No, not her. Her entity.
"Why can't I see anymore?"
Loud crashes of sobs overcame her, and I watched as she felt along her ghostly features, fingers crawling into her eye sockets, blood streaked down the sides of her face.
"Chris? Are you there, Chris?"
I stopped in front of her apparition, staring down at her in shock as she called my name.
"Chris...Chris I'm so sorry..."
Leaning over, I watched as she removed her hands from her face.
Although I wanted to tell her that it was too late to say that she was sorry, that I was already dead, I knew i couldn't say that. After all, I told Sam not to move. I made her look away from Ashley.
I let Ashley die, just like she let me die.
I let my transparent hand come to rest on her just as see though face.
"W-who's there?"
"Ash."
"Chris? Holy shit, Chris?!"
More sobbing.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so so so sorry..."
I remained silent.
Now was not the time for her to know that I let her die. It would never be the time. We would just stay here, another legend on Blackwood Mountain.
So, I know as much as anyone else who likes Chrashley, you probably hate me now. In fact I hate myself for writing this, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head.
It's not the best, and it's super sad that I decided to make Chris do this to Ashley, but hey, happy endings don't always come true, you know? Sometimes it's this kind of reality. Dayum son.
