Satisfaction.
That was all Henry Dunn Wakefield felt when he heard the deafening thwack of the head spade through Thomas Wellington's head, saw the gory consequences of the rig he had set up after removing Reverend Fain from the picture. Henry felt such triumph in murdering the one man who had suspicions of him. As far as Henry was concerned, Thomas Wellington deserved what he got. And Henry still fully believed that, even though the way Trish reacted did make him feel a little remorse.
She was getting to him. This was getting harder than he ever thought it would. Henry believed, as soon as he killed his first victim, he would be fine with killing anything. Killing brought him the rush of power and adrenaline he'd always felt he needed in order to tell Abby the truth about how he felt. He knew he could do anything with that rush. Anything except kill Abby. Abby was always the one exception. It was something Dad had said would take time, but he knew Henry could do it. Killing the one you love destroyed all of your weaknesses. But Trish had been around too long, and he'd gotten to know her far too well. She was becoming another vulnerability, and he knew that even having one vulnerability was too much.
Speaking of vulnerabilities, Henry had nearly forgotten to check on Abby in his frantic thoughts. Abby had, after all, been the one to flip the light switch that triggered the head spade, something he hadn't originally planned on happening. He did feel bad that it had been Abby who flipped it, because he knew her well enough to know she would blame herself for causing the satisfying death. He had hoped it would be one of the groomsmen, or even Maggie. He didn't really care for any of them. They were his next victims. His targets. Opportunities to get Abby right where he wanted her.
But now he was coming to realize that he actually cared for Trish. Maybe even loved her.
"No...that can't happen." Henry said, lucky that Trish's screams covered his words. He grabbed Trish around the shoulders and covered her head, shielding her from the chaos, but she wouldn't stop struggling to get to her father. As she escaped from his arms and crawled over to her dad, his bifurcated face the last image she had of him, Henry took in his surroundings. Everyone looked horrified, shocked, upset, and absolutely perfect. Henry quickly grabbed Trish, pulling her face to his chest to get her away from the sight, now covered by Richard's jacket.
Just as Sheriff Mills burst through the church doors, Trish let out her loudest, bone-chilling scream. Henry was grateful for the Sheriff at that one moment, grateful that Abby actually had someone to comfort her when he couldn't. Henry tried following Charlie's orders, and to take Trish outside, but she wasn't wavering. He pulled her back toward him as hard as he could, not being able to stand the sight of her denial any longer. He dragged his unwilling fiance outside and let her cry into his jacket.
And he knew, right then, that he wasn't acting. He really was trying to comfort Trish. He knew she needed him. He knew it was expected of him to comfort her, and he knew he would've done it anyway, even if he didn't love her. But he did. All of these emotions he was feeling were the ones he had worked on killing for the past seven years, making his mind just another victim to the game that Wakefield was playing.
Killing her was supposed to go off without a hitch. He was just supposed to use Trish to bring Abby back to the island for the wedding. Henry knew that he had loved Trish once, years ago. But he also knew that he loved Abby more. He had believed that it was that knowledge that squelched his love for Trish. Apparently not.
As the minutes flew by at the Candlewick, Henry found it wasn't hard actually being the nice Henry he had played up for the past seven years. He found that his acting had started to shape him into his old self, Henry Dunn. He had been Wakefield's son for seven straight years now, but in his heart he knew that he could never erase the Henry Dunn he had been for 20 years before he met his father. He missed living his life without lies, without having to cover his tracks wherever he went. He missed the simplicity. He missed when he was able to feel. To love and hate, to be joyful or furious, or to just be content with his life.
Henry hadn't felt anything except murderous for the past seven years. He felt the rage pumping through his veins day and night. The rage towards his 'parents' for keeping everything a secret. The rage towards Sarah for abandoning him.
After killing Thomas Wellington, Henry realized he didn't want to do this anymore. He realized he wanted his old life back, with his beautiful girlfriend and the best friends he could ask for. He still loved Abby, but part of him knew that loving her this way wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was his half-sister. They weren't meant to be together. Henry started formulating a new plan in his head, one to try and get off the island with the rest of his friends and family intact. It was impossible. If they escaped, John Wakefield would just come after them all, one by one, until he had killed them all. The only way out was to continue with the original plan, and kill every last one of them. Except now there was a twist at the end. Abby would live, but in order for that to happen, Henry would have to kill Dad.
Which, he then realized, had been his true plan all along.
"No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true." - Nathaniel Hawthorne
I actually had a really good time writing this one, and I like the end result. I thought the above quote was fitting, even though I do hate Hawthorne, he was indeed a good writer in his time.
Love it? Hate it? Review it! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D