Jimmy… I thought. Come on, buddy, don't die on me. Don't leave me here alone.
Aw, Jesus, what's the point? We were all going to die, I knew that. But…there were so many things I hadn't done yet. Hey, maybe it was a good thing I didn't have kids. My parents were assholes, I was an asshole most of the time. Hell, my kids would probably be assholes too. It all seemed so…insignificant. I thought I was going to die old and grey, but that vision dissolved quickly.
"Mommy, he's here," the kid said, just before a certain mass-murderer broke down the front door. I jumped up from my chair, staring at Wakefield. He stared back, but turns toward the bar. Nikki had run behind it and grabbed the shotgun sitting there. She brought it down, but Wakefield grabbed the barrel. He held his boarding knife over the bar, and Nikki struggled to free it from his grip. She fired a shot through the roof, and then Wakefield stabbed his knife deep into her stomach.
I felt a pain in my own. The blonde girl-Chloe?-started screaming, and I grabbed the kid and Shea. I herded them away, towards the bathroom. They could get out the window. Wakefield dragged Nikki's body over the bar and dropped her on the ground. Trish took over getting the girls out of here, and I pulled out my knife.
Wakefield gave me a bloodthirsty grin. We stood, facing each other, staring the other one down. Wakefield threw the table between us to one side, and stepped forward. Trish picked up a gun and levelled it at him.
I turned quickly. "Go!" I yelled, and then faced my death.
"You don't scare me," I said. I was tired of running. I wanted to be the one calling the shots. Wakefield held up his own knife, as if to say I'll try harder. It was going to be hard to kill him, since all I had was this six inch switchblade, but I'd give it my best.
I took a swing at him, and he ducked back. Voices started, egging me on. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, and then my father's voice.
You failed, Shane, he said. You couldn't protect Nikki, you let Kelly be murdered. They're both dead, and you're going to die a failure.
"Shut up," I hissed, and lunged at Wakefield again. He stepped back, and then mirrored me. I dodged it, still trying to shut out the voices shrieking in my head.
Why, Shane? Kelly's voice cried. Why did you let him kill me? I loved you, Shane, and you left me to die.
There was pause, in which we stared each other down, and then Wakefield made another lunge towards me. I moved to the side, but couldn't stop the knife from slicing my arm. I also couldn't help crying out and grabbing onto the wound, which only made it hurt more.
Things started to get a little hazy, and a red mist slowly creeped its way across my vision. I swung blindly, and Wakefield cut my side. I yelled again, trying to ignore the burning stripes and concentrate on killing this bastard.
Shane, Shane, Shane. Save us, Shane. Avenge us. Kill him. Don't be the failure you always were.
"Shut up," I hissed, stabbing forwards. Wakefield grabbed my arm and twisted it back. I grimaced, and then punched him with my other fist. I tried to pull away from Wakefield, but he had grabbed onto my jacket. He brought the knife down and sliced a deep cut cross my wrist. I screamed and pushed against it, moving my switch to my other hand.
I let out a tortured moan and swung at air. I could hardly see, the voices wouldn't shut up and my side and arms were burning, burning, burning. I kept swinging, hoping to hit something. I could see the bastard grinning. This was all a game to him, wasn't it? Nothing but a game, and I was the pawn. He stepped forward and shoved the knife through my chest.
Red. Red mist, making everything have a bloody tint to it. I could feel the blood seeping into my lungs, and the warmth as it spilled out of my mouth. Wakefield ripped the knife out and threw me to the floor.
It still hurt, every bit of me. I didn't know how I was still alive, but I must have been, because my whole body was on fire and the voices were berating me. I could hear Wakefield stomping off. The girls. I had to save the girls.
Come on, Shane. Kelly's voice was proud this time. You can do this.
"Kelly," I whispered. "Help me." I managed to struggle to all fours, and felt a sudden warmth. Somebody pulled me to my feet, and helped me to stagger over to the bathroom. I pushed open the door. Wakefield was staring down Trish, who had the shotgun pointed at his heart.
"Hey," I growled. Wakefield turned towards me and Trish escaped out the window. Wakefield gave me a look that said something like why-are-you-still-alive? and stepped towards me. But I couldn't see him. All I could see was Kelly standing in front of me, giving me that smile I loved. And I didn't feel it when Wakefield stabbed me again. I didn't remember falling to the floor, didn't think of him stringing up my body for the others to find. There was only Kelly, and all I could feel was her breath mixing with mine, her lips just brushing my own.
I hope somebody feels sorry for me. Hope somebody misses me. Maybe Jimmy will shed few tears over my body. Maybe Abby will. Or that kid, if she ever gets over being so creepy. But you can't deny that I died for a reason. I saved somebody's life, at least. I maybe made up for all the crap I did before.
I mean, it was pretty badass death, wasn't it?