Holy crap guys this is short. But I didn't feel inspired to write anything else really. Go ahead and read the showdown though! Please enjoy and review!
Warning: this entire chapter is darker than the rest of the story. It's got some disturbing thoughts via Hodge's mind, plus a lot of violence. Nothing really explicit though, so don't go into this thinking I'm about to inform you about the insides of the human body that you never really wanted to know. It's not even that bad. Okay I'm not sure why I'm even putting this warning here at all. Nevertheless, here be your warning.
Guest329: Your review made me so happy to read thank you so much for your wonderful comments. Please enjoy this last chapter!
Rebel Jaguar: hahaha i updated as soon as i possibly could! Enjoy yourself!
-Lau
Hodge
It was too easy.
Hodge crept up the staircase once he had heard the idiot detective leave on the elevator. Honestly, all the modern inventions nowadays really handicapped the youth of this age. Hodge saved the topic for a later article to write about. The detective hadn't even checked the stairway, and Hodge decided he probably had no idea that the stairs were an option.
Hodge slowly crept down the hallway, feeling the weight of the two bullets in his pocket and the heaviness in his head. The door at the end of the hall came up and Hodge took a breath. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The rushing of his blood into his head made him feel off balanced and light, like he was about to float off somewhere a million miles away.
Hodge paused for a moment and tried to decipher if he was feeling anything at all, or if he had just eaten something bad for dinner. As his stomach twisted again, Hodge decided that it was none of the so called signs of guilt or nervousness, but just indigestion from the fried fish skillet he'd had just a few hours before. Damned cook. He would have to send in a negative review within his next article.
Hodge grabbed the doorknob, smirking when it turned clockwise without a budge. That detective was so arrogant, he could hardly protect a victim who had already supposedly died from dying again through a simple door lock. Not that the door being locked would've prevented Hodge from getting inside the suite. Maybe an added minute to the process, but nothing that would majorly apprehend him.
The door opened quietly, without a squeak. He closed the door then, turning the deadbolt clockwise. Hodge immediately crouched down to the clock, feeling his weak knees protest. He slowly, carefully, opened the walnut door and pressed the hinge that popped open the glass sheet. He carefully pulled out the gun and opened the barrel, replacing the bullets and filled it, wincing when it made a sharp metallic noise.
Hodge surveyed the suite, holding his breath as he waited to make sure Clarissa hadn't heard anything. The door that led to her bedroom and bathroom had light pouring out of it in a yellow wedge on the carpet. He could hear her moving around as she got ready to sleep. Hodge felt no pleasure in making it permanent. However, he did not regret what was about to happen. He could not let her make anymore life damaging mistakes if he had anything to say about it. Her heart was wild and dangerous to the rest of her health.
He would have to end it now, before she could fall any further. That detective would be the worst to handle by far. It seemed that the older Clarissa got, the more adolescent her choices became. First the odd fling with Simon the painter, and then the year long affair with the witless wonder Sebastian Verlac, and now the disturbing and lustful Jonathan Herondale.
Hodge remembered fully the delicate flower he had met and how he promised himself he would help her grow. Now she was wilted and used, touched and trampled upon, and there was nothing Hodge could do anymore that could save her. So he would have to kill her himself.
As he crept closer to the door, he could hear her humming one of her favorite songs, and then he could see her brushing through her red hair. She wore a black, lacy robe that revealed most of her body. Hodge did not stare, however. He felt sickened by the image. She had been desecrated by Sebastian, and now by that idiot. He would never be able to find it in himself to touch her intimately.
It was why he had the gun in his hand; stabbing would mean too much physical contact. He raised his hand to knock on the open door; she was obviously defenseless and wouldn't be able to do anything anyways. So he knocked.
She jumped a little, but did not turn to look behind her. She was smirking, putting down her brush carefully onto her vanity. "Back so soon, Jace?"
And Hodge understood suddenly why she had on that lingerie. She was waiting up for the detective to come back around. It made it so much easier for Hodge to stop her now, before she could ruin herself further. "I'm so sorry." Hodge said in the quiet room.
Clarissa looked like she almost jumped out of her own skin. She sprang from the chair, her large emerald eyes wide and terrified as she stared at the gun still in Hodge's hand. "You don't have to do this." she said so quietly, Hodge had to strain his ears to hear her.
"I'm sorry I could not make you love me. And I'm sorry that you have made the decisions that inevitably led to this."
"You're not making any sense, Hodge." she was pleading for her life now, Hodge watched, as she came closer to him, her eyes looking innocent and scared. "You don't have to kill anyone. Please put the gun down."
Hodge didn't waver at all as he pressed the butt of the gun into the crook of his shoulder and aimed. If he hit her head straight on, it would be an instant and merciful death. He looked up for a moment, staring as tears streamed down her face. He felt suddenly very powerful and he took a few seconds to revel in it. Her life was literally in his hands and she was at his mercy if she was allowed to take another breath or not. Finally, a time when he could fully control her, and not just advize her. She was trembling, but Hodge was glad that she wasn't running. She was at least smart enough to not do that. It would be alright, though. Soon the tears would stop and be gone, along with most of her beautiful face.
He aimed again, the moment over and squeezed the trigger. He looked up, enjoying this experience much more than last time. Before in the dark room, it had been more of a hit and run sort of murder. Now it would be a story he would be proud to be connected to.
He watched as Clarissa wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She was no longer trembling ethier, and Hodge realized a moment too late what was about to happen.
He quickly pulled the trigger, but it was too late, for her hand had already grabbed the barrel of the gun and yanked it upward, the bullet imbedding itself into the ceiling. He swore, dropping the gun and yanking back the leaping girl in his arms. Her fists beat his chest, his face. Hodge pulled her down to the floor and felt sorry for her that it had to end like this. He climbed on top of her writhing body and placed his hands around her neck squeezing. She stopped her moving for a moment, shocked, her eyes bugging out.
But only for a moment. Clarissa was back at the writhing and wriggling. She grabbed onto his arms, and for a moment, his own neck and tried squeezing. Hodge shook his neck, snarling and leaned from his knees to squeeze even harder. Clarissa was shaking and turning paler than a sheet as her hands moved uselessly to try and apprehend him.
It wasn't until the sound of someone beating on the door did Hodge avert his focus. And even though it was only a short second, it was long enough for Clarissa to hear it too. With new fervor, she plunged her thumbs into his eye sockets, Hodge crying out in pain. His hold weakened and suddenly she was out of his grip and crawling out from under his legs.
"Clary!" they both could hear the detective yelling out the pathetic nickname he had obviously given her.
Hodge's heart beat increased at the thought of not finishing his work as he yanked at Clarissa's ankle, pulling her toward him. She lifted her leg and in turn gave a solid kick to his jaw. Hodge fell backwards and blinked, his eyes stinging and now the entire bottom half of his face sore and throbbing. Clarissa was already halfway to the door by the time Hodge got up and was grabbing for his gun.
He was moving towards Clarissa as he set it against his shoulder, ready this time for it to be quick and over with when the door flung open, the lock broken and wooden splinters flying everywhere. Hodge pulled the trigger and stumbled at the sound of multiple shots It was ringing in his ears and suddenly he felt his clothes getting very wet.
Looking down at his chest, Hodge stared as red blood bloomed from the bullet now inside of him. He touched his drenched shirt, confused, until he looked up. The detective's partner was holding a pistol, the barrel smoking. In Herondale's arms, Clarissa clung to him, shoving her face into his chest. A protective hand held her against him.
Hodge fell to his knees, the pain throbbing away at his chest, making it more and more difficult to breath. Meanwhile, more blood poured from the wound and wet Hodge's hand that tried to apply pressure. He felt tired doing that however, and reached towards Clarissa instead, hoping that she would help him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It shouldn't have ended this way. Hodge opened his mouth to say just that, but blood instead dribbled down his chin, his words spluttering and garbled.
She stared at Hodge, her eyes bloodshot from the broken blood vessels that he had popped when he was choking her, and the bruises of his hands around her neck were red and swollen, already turning purple. And he knew then, that she wasn't going to even going to try. Black spots filled his eyes and he fell onto his back, his head light and heavy all at the same time.
So this is what it feels like to die.
Hodge blinked at the ceiling, part of it shattered from his missed bullet. His shot had lost its aim once the bullet made impact into his chest. He'd failed. He took a shuddering breath, feeling his body collapse on itself and end. He had only brought the couple together, Hodge realized now. Maybe if he hadn't tried to kill her, it would've been different. She would've been different.
Hodge's final breath was then released; he no longer felt anything but coldness and a numbing sensation, spreading from his chest and down to his toes, all the way to his brain. "Clarissa." he had whispered on that dying exhale, blackness filling his vision even though his eyes remained open.
Wowzer guys I'm done! I really appreciate those who have supported me and pushed me to finish and end those long hiatus'. I really really loved writing in this genre, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. I'm not going to do an epilogue because I think the ending is a bit self explanatory. If anyone wants me to tell them what happens to the rest of the characters that didn't die, just ask in the review.
Because please please please review! If you've made it this far with me, why not just add a comment on what you enjoyed, what you wished happened, if your theory was correct, things you think could've been better.
Literally anything! I thrive on negative (as long as it is helpful criticism) and positive feedback. I just like hearing from you!
Also, I'll be updating Stele Arts Academy hopefully sometime this summer for anyone who has read that. And there are 2 WIPs that have about 50 pages each on my google docs right now. So you can expect those at some point too! Love you all for coming with this far and really appreciate this experience.
-Lau
