XVIII.
WRONG SIDE OF HEAVEN
A large garage door was lifted up, granting light to the darkened building inside. The silhouettes of three figures came into view. Two of them apparently dragging the third by the arms, whom was whimpering and struggling to get loose, to no avail. He had his hands tied in duck tape, as was his mouth. The apparent prisoner appeared to be a young man somewhere in his early twenties and clearly he was absolutely terrified.
The deeper they went the more it became noticeable that they where in a large warehouse. Frantically looking around he saw others linger about with only a few moving some equipment to the back end of the warehouse. It was futile to plea for help, none of them would aid him, they all knew what he'd done.
Looking ahead he saw him and his fear increased.
He stood around with arms crossed, leaning back on a forklift that wasn't being operated. His disapproving eyes never breaking contact with the cowering kid before him. Wearing rugged jeans with brown construction boots, a black tank top with a black short sleeve work shirt to match he looked like your average industrial worker and to top it off he carried a gun, strapped to his pants for everybody to view. Only thing that stayed the same was the silver belt buckle with the engravings: MCMG.
The kid's mouth was untaped as he was shoved to the floor. Wincing at the pain on his lips he focused on the man before him and quickly pleaded his case, "Dice! This is all a big misunderstanding!"
"Crap, really?"
Dice unfolded his arms and walked closer to the kid, who had gotten up and now stood on his knees before him, "I gave you around twenty pills of Oxy to sell around the block, but when the numbers you brought back didn't add up, I decided to investigate further more."
The kid was sweating bullets at this point as Dice laid out the facts with a calm demeanor that was even more intimidating than a vicious scolding. Regardless he went with the only option he had available, "B-Business has b-b-been slow is a-all!"
Without warning Dice kicked him square in the face. Falling backwards he groaned in pain as a warm liquid traveled out his nostrils.
"Fuck you Jimmy! Just...shut the fuck up!" Dice shouted at him before turning to one of his guys, "Give it to me!"
One of the thugs handed him a sum of paper cash. Dice carefully counted it all, humming a tune while at it. Jimmy got back on his knees, but his nose was bloody and definitely broken. His bluff had failed terribly, he was now at his mercy, if he would even grant him any at all. Finally done counting, Dice gave out a frustrating sigh, pinching the top of his nose while clutching the money in the other hand. He was upset, but tried to maintain his cool.
"Jim... you're a idiot."
Jimmy said nothing. His silence was enough evidence to prove his guilt.
"$324...you seriously tried to fuck me over 324 fucking dollars?" Dice grinned in disbelief at Jimmy.
Before having the opportunity to say any last statements he saw Dice nod at the guy behind him, a plastic bag was placed over his head. As Jimmy was being suffocated, Dice walked up the stairs that lead to the second floor and mainly the office, his new office. Remembering something important he turned around to see the futile struggle continue.
"Bury him, I don't want any more damn corpses lying around to be found. Okay?"
"Yeah, no problem!"
Climbing up the stairs he waltz into the main office where some heavy metal was playing on a stereo that had been set up. Three guys were playing cards on a table, smoking cigarettes and weed, cans of beer around the table and a pile of cash in the center as the top prize. They greeted Dice with respect and camaraderie which he gladly returned back. Entering the main office he sat down on his desk and grabbed a cold beer from his cooler.
"Don't you think that blade is sharp enough already?" He asked the other occupant sitting across from him with both feet on the desk.
The other guy kept on sharpening his large knife, only shrugging back as his answer to Dice. He wore a black leather jacket with a black t-shirt that carried the logo for the heavy metal band, Megadeth. Simple black jeans and converse shoes, but most importantly he had a ACL leg brace on his right leg. Same leg where some stupid, defiant kid had smashed a damn cinder block on. He managed to get even by plunging his knife into the little fucker's chest, eye for an eye as they.
"Here keep it, it's meaningless to me."
Dice placed the cash on the desk. John eyed the money and gladly took it, no questions asked. Dice grabbed a pencil and wrote something down on a sheet of paper containing various numbers. Jimmy's stolen profits would be a small bump, but it would be easily overlooked after the end of the month revenues haul bigger numbers. He had so much to prove, he was not going to fuck this up at all. Nothing would halt him, nobody would stop him from expanding the gang's businesses to these small towns outside and around Detroit.
"Where the hell is Keith?"
"Not my responsibility." John said nonchalantly.
Dice rolled his eyes, taking another drink from his beer. The kid had been semi AWOL since that night, guess he wasn't expecting to be an accomplice to murder that quick into his new career. Dice should really nail it into that boy's skull that the "thug life" was not about money, women and cars. On the contrary it's about making money by any means necessary and most importantly having to get your hands bloody dirty to survive the streets and every other night.
"Probably back at the apartment smoking weed or fucking some chick." John said as he was done sharpening and examined his knife, "Your... apprentice, lacks a spine."
"I'll whip him into a proper gangster in good time. The M.G. have always created excellent soldiers, I'm banking my reputation on him to prove himself." Dice responded back.
"Sure."
Dice had high hopes for Keith, a high school dropout and local player, he had no future, but he could give him one. He could teach him the rules of the streets, how to run a set and conduct business in the many neighborhoods they would soon dominate, just like he had been taught in his earlier youth. The only problem was, as John had pointed out was that when it came to ending lives, Keith got real fucked up about it. Then again the brat they ended up beating to a pulp and finally killing was no more than probably a middle schooler. Nobody likes killing kids, but in the end he's looking out for himself and the gang.
When he saw the news of the kid's death and the current investigation, he was close to shitting himself, worrying that they had fucked up. Dice grew anxious that he would get a call from Detroit, but luckily after two whole weeks, nothing happened. The other kid that escaped must really suck at descriptions, yet he cautiously carried on, telling both Keith and John to lay low. He even got his car repainted and given new fake plates. This has yet to blow over and he still feared for the day that he saw his name and picture on the local news.
The day that happens, Wise Dog would have his head for such a massive fuck up.
Changing thoughts he stood up and looked behind him, from the window down to the main floor. Most of his boys had finally arrived from Detroit and where in the process of transforming this battered old warehouse into something more profitable, one which contained booze and music. The perfect business front and stronghold to carry out his operations. Slightly turning his head, he saw John getting up to grab another beer.
"You know, you can still join the crew, you don't necessarily have to be from Detroit to qualify." Dice offered John the membership.
"Nah, Not a team player."
Dice smirked back at him, "Then why the fuck you here?"
"I'm bored."
Dice snorted as he drank some more beer, "Shit, John, at least you're honest."
Somebody had gotten his order wrong, again. These damn idiots can never get it right, he needed to start writing it down on paper for them. Removing the pickles and onions, the detective grumbled to himself as everyone around him carried on with their individual assignments. At least his soft drink wasn't ruined, he took a long drink through the straw as he organized his files. These past few weeks had been a stressful bitch and he hated the feeling of being in last place.
Just around the corner his partner reappeared, having gone to get more ink for his copier.
"I see Norris got the order wrong again, Gibson." Kellerman smiled.
"Not much I can do, except steal his insulin shot and watch him collapse on the floor." Gibson grumbled back.
See, Gibson was a dedicated detective, but this current unresolved case had already dragged too long for him be comfortable with. The more days that passed the more responsible he felt for the family of that kid. He did not want to be seen as a liar and unreliable, but the ugly truth was that whoever those three suspects were they somehow managed to vanish into the night. Never in his twenty-one years since becoming detective had he allowed such a case to last this long, no wonder he's been in a bad mood the last few days.
"I still haven't gotten a right match on the Camaro, all the ones fitting the description belong to normal citizens, most of them with speeding citations at best." Kellerman added to his report.
"Best case scenario, they dumped it or had it resprayed to avoid police suspicion and identification."
The camera at the fast food restaurant overlooking the parking lot had been offline, so they failed to get a good look at the license plates, but eyewitness at the other crime scene of the overdose verified the same vehicle. Same three occupants, only two got out to sell, but they were discreetly away from the crowd to avoid identification. The kid who bought the pills was identified and brought in for questioning. He claims to have never met the pair before and despite all the harsh repercussions that he was threatened with he refused to budge any further. At the moment he is serving jail time for distribution of illegal narcotics. They would continue to shake him for more information, but until then their only other lead was the blue Chevrolet Camaro.
"How are my two best workers in the force managing?" a third man in a grey suit appeared next to the detectives.
"A day at a time, Lieutenant." Kellerman smiled back.
The police lieutenant looked over at Gibson who took a bite out of his hamburger, "How about you Zach? Your cholesterol high enough?" Gibson waved him off. Both men go way back, having patrolled the streets of Detroit for over fifteen years together before the transfer, they always knew how to vibe off from each other.
"Is there anything else Johnson?" Gibson responded back to the Lieutenant.
Lt. Johnson produced a folder and placed it on Gibson's desk for him to see. Opening it the detective read the police report attached to it as their superior explained the issue.
"We got another homicide just last night. Another male, white, young and the murder scene was committed in a discreet location around the edge of town." Johnson said.
"That's two in a row, this peaceful town is not what it once was anymore." Kellerman shook his head, "All the hoodlums, junkies and low lives from Detroit must be migrating north."
Royal Woods had always been an exemplary suburban small town. Families could raise their kids and not worry about walking alone late at night. Everyone was kind to each other and no major crimes had ever been reported in the last two decades. That was no longer the case apparently, maybe Kellerman was right, the scum of Detroit were now slowly infesting the surrounding communities with their sickening pollution. Gibson did not transfer from that damn toxic city to have the stench follow him here, he was gonna do everything in his power to keep the crime at bay. He was betting his life on it.
"I know that you two are already working on the Loud Case, but I need you two to pull double duty on this one as well. This department isn't that big and Taylor is on vacation. Bahamas, lucky bastard." Lt. Johnson ordered his subordinates.
"The more the better." Gibson sarcastically said.
Arriving at the morgue, both detectives exited their vehicle. The body had been transported for examination, and analyze it for any worthwhile evidence, now to get down to the facts. Having to pull double duty wasn't frustrating for the two, after all for Gibson's satisfaction it's far more manageable then the never ending stacks of crime reports back in Detroit. That city was a criminal hellhole or to put in better words, a gangster's paradise.
Entering the building they walked to the back to meet with the forensic doctor. Once inside the morgue the detectives got a good look at the body laying in the table. Dead as dead it could be, nothing special that either had seen before. Except of course for the large hole that once held the sad bastard's left cheek intact.
"Glad the three of you have made acquaintance already."
The forensic doctor came out from another room with a clipboard in hand. A lean man somewhere around his 50's, sporting a grey beard and a receding hairline on the dome of his head with glasses to add he was the perfect type to work with corpses and not complain about it.
"So tell us doc, what do we have here?" Gibson asked.
"As you two have bare witnessed, the killing shot came from behind. Entering through the back side of the skull, utterly skewering the brain before exiting out the left cheek. Poor degenerate, at least it was quick." The doctor gave out his analysis to the detectives.
"Must have been a high caliber to cause that much damage." Kellerman put on some gloves and grabbed the head to better see the wound, "What you think? .38, .357, .40?"
"All three are optional. Also, whether it was a rifle or handgun needs to be added." Gibson responded back.
Not to worry for our friend here left us with the appropriate evidence, a final gift to say the least." The doctor smiled at them both as he grabbed a small tin cup. With gloves on he grabbed a lead bullet that he had extracted from the dead man and showed it to the detectives. Gibson took it from the man and looked at it closer.
"That's clearly a .357, not hard to recognize after these many years on the force." Gibson spoke.
"I extracted three of these bad boys from our friend here. After having his skull shattered by the initial shot, your suspect decided to empty three more slugs on the already dead man as he laid on his stomach. Talk about anger issues, right?" The doctor added to the case.
"Yep, very personal." Kellerman removed his latex gloves, done touching the skin of a corpse.
The doctor walked over to one of the mortuary fridges on the wall. Opening the one of them, the cool visible air that kept the bodies cold and intact escaped. Gibson and Kellerman approach, curious as to what he intended to show them.
"This right here is the young man that was found dead the previous night, killed by a single bullet to the chest, rupturing a major artery that leaked into his lungs. He went into shock, and the blow instantly knocked him out, he technically died a minute later after internally suffocating on his own blood." He went on to explain, before reaching his main point, "Now these two are different homicides correct?
"That is correct."
He waved them over to a file cabinet. Checking for the right folder, he held it out with his hand and present it to Gibson. Opening it he read the forensic report. From the slight bruise in his nose, whoever killed him struck him with a fist or shoe, there was no way to declare if it was aggressive or self defense, other than that he kept on reading. He quickly eyed the one item that concluded everything.
"Same caliber, .357." The surprise was evident in his voice.
Once outside both men walked back to the car. All this new information had just made the seperate homicides into one possible major case on it's own accord. With Gibson taking the wheel, they ignited the engine, but first decided to overlook all their notes before choosing their next destination. So far both victims had been gunned down by the same caliber weapon, a .357 magnum. It occurred around four in a half miles from each other. First victim's time of death was registered at around 11:30pm while the second one happened after 10pm. Both happened around the same time and at night when there is less perception to see and in secular spots with no human activity to avoid eye witnesses. He was already forming an idea in head and he didn't like it one bit.
"Same possible perp?" Kellerman asked his partner.
Gibson rubbed his head gently, "That's what I'm afraid of."
There were no bullet casings in either murder scene. It's a revolver we're dealing with here, those don't drop anything once fired." Kellerman concluded, to which Gibson simply nodded.
He didn't know it yet, but there was a raw sensation within the back of his mind telling him that all this cases correlated together. For now he would follow standard procedure, gather more evidence, starting with the origin of the weapon used, check all gun shops in the state and see if any of them have sold the murder weapon and the ammunition included, it's a good start and should narrow down the maze to a singular path. And when it was time; he would publicly voice his growing suspicions. He really needed go check on that family again.
Cleaning her room he reminisced about the days before it all fell apart. The happier years, when they were all one happy and united family. But they were already beyond that, their new life now was one of a neverending descend into misery. His son was gone from this world and now he would carry around an eternal weight of guilt and regret with him, till his dying day. His daughter had lost all hope and even worse, her faith in God and Jesus was no more. His sister and the closest one of them all he genuinely once truly wanted to marry was back and devasted to see her only to children gone from her life. He was weak. He felt hopeless and alone. So when he found her Bible underneath the bed as he cleaned up the mess she left behind, his temptation won and here he now was at the kitchen table reading a book Lyra would hound him to read and learn from, but he would never actually invest in the idea. Until now.
Everybody always said that the Bible carried all the answers of the universe. If something in your life was missing, this book would find it, if you seek advice or knowledge, it would provide it.
Never a religious person, Lincoln had no idea where to search or what to search for. So, instead of randomly flipping pages, he opted to simply read it all from the start; like every book is meant to be read. Again he didn't know what he would find, but his life was in the gutter and he felt the need to try something new. If Lyra could only see him now.
He was still on the book of Genesis when the front door was knocked.
Getting up and placing a marker to not lose his page, he walked over too see who it could be. Almost all his kids and sisters where out of town. Maybe it was Lynn back from the gym or Liby stopping by to hang out with him and her sisters.
Opening the door he saw the girl who ran away from her family.
Luna stood with arms crossed, avoiding eye contact by looking to the side. Her face spelled out her current emotions, she was upset, but more along the lines of sadness than actual anger. Lincoln kept it to himself, but Luna never lost her youth. Still sporting her rocker attire, she still looked amazing for her age, it just worked for her. Neither said a word nor to each other, it was to strange after all these years. Finally lifting her eyes at him, she spoke up.
"Can I come in?"
"... Sure."
Having been granted entry she walked in as he held the door open for her. Looking around she admired the old house, it hadn't changed much at all, she would always feel like a teenager anytime she entered her home, well former home. Last time she was here it had been to find her daughter after Lincoln had called her. The first time had been the day after the funeral, she had just barged right in and demanded to speak with her daughter. It still hurt, to see her songbird lash out at her with such hatred, she would have never expected it in a million years, she was more certain that it would have been Lincoln, the one to lay his hands on her, but the universe surprised her yet again.
"You thirsty?"
Luna snapped out of her thoughts. Lincoln stood by the door, hands in his pockets looking at her with curiosity. She waved him off, "I'm okay."
"Okay."
She didn't feel the need to sit down, she wasn't planning on staying too long. Her first attempt had been to brash and rushed, she was now more prepared to handle her conversation and keep her emotions from acting out.
Scanning him from top to bottom, Lincoln hadn't changed much. He was still the lanky dork she had fallen in love with. The best man she had ever met and and the only guy she had the greatest pleasure in bed, although she may had hooked up with many men in the past four years it never went past second base with them all. She never understood why, but for that entire run she preferred the taste of other women instead. Now that all the dust was settled and there was no erratic interruptions, being alone and together again was extremely awkward for both adults.
"Lyra is not home." Lincoln was quick to point out that fact, "Took her stuff and is staying at a friend's house."
"I...see." Luna grasped this new information.
"Yeah, She...hates us all. Some more than others." Lincoln couldn't help himself, but to nail in that last one to her.
Luna said nothing back for he was right. She had failed them both as a mother. Lemy had always admired her and supported her decisions, but with Lyra, that bond had been strained. Now it was fully broken. She had lost both her children at once, coming home to a destroyed family and a daughter that no longer loved her. Never had she felt so much remorse in her life as she's had in the past couple of weeks. Not even rock music was capable of easing her woes away. She had not played a single instrument since her return, choosing to remain in bed and stare at all the pictures she had saved of her son and stare at each one of them for countless hours everyday. That was the day she realized just how much of a negligence she had become towards her own family. It was that epiphany that made her sick to the core, she chose to abandon her children and the man she loved, because the idea of settling down and living a normal and peaceful, loving life with your family was, in her own twisted and rebellious way an oppressive settlement.
That very night, Sam walked in on her bashing and breaking all of her guitars into shattered pieces.
Luna had placed more care and value to this inanimate objects over her own flesh and blood and now she hated them, hated herself above all. She threw away the opportunity to be a real mother and spend each day with her kids, four years ago. All she had now was remorse and a broken spirit.
"Will she ever forgive...me?" Luna placed her hands on her chest as she looked away from him.
Lincoln folded his arms across his chest and sighed, "Not right now. She's lost. Our daughter has allowed the darkness to infect her, I... can't do this alone."
"... How's Lupa?"
Lincoln mentally groaned, his other daughter was also going through her own personal hell. After Lyra's outburst, Lupa had become more reclusive and go into deep hiding for many hours. She too had changed, a piece of her died that same night alongside her brother. He was extremely appalled of the cruelty that Lyra had been capable of and immediately consoled her after returning back to the house. Unfortunately just like Lyra, the young girl resisted any form of affection and comfort, she could only lash with out in agony as she kicked herself in her own room. After that horrible experience, Lincoln would constantly check her room, search every nook and cranny for any hidden items that she could use to harm herself with. He truly was afraid for her daughter's life.
Loan had explained to him that Lyra had returned the other day to gather some clothes. How she had found Lyra chasing after Lupa, apparently regretful of her poor choice of words. She had kicked her out, citing that it was too quick to just blow this thing over and both of her sisters were currently borderline, mentally unstable to have them interact with each other. Lincoln did not fault her decision and was proud of her coming out of her timid shell to protect bother her siblings from each other.
All they could really do now was to allow time to heal this emotional wounds and that would be a long recovery indeed.
"I worry for her, Lyra lost her brother and probably the only boy she would ever fall in love with, but Lupa, she witnessed it all...she was there to experience first hand that...that...night." Lincoln formed a fist and hit the stairwell in anger, "My little girl is far more traumatized than any of us wishes to believe!"
Luna would have natural reached for him and either hug him or massage his tensed up shoulders, but that was during a different life ago. Right now she just kept her distance and sadly acknowledge his frustrations. He wasn't the only sibling who's trust she had broken. Luan had grown distant from her, she was heavily disappointed that Luna chose to run away from her family and responsibilities and in the end she had been right to call her out on it.
But now that Luna was back, she wanted to fix things, fix her relationship with her daughter mostly above all. Her and Lincoln...that ship had sailed, she was intimidated to venture to those uncharted waters. For now she just wanted help him repair their family.
"You know I'm back right?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not leaving again."
"Sure."
"I'm done traveling, Lincoln!"
Rolling his eyes he approached her with purpose, "Why doesn't that surprise me Luna? Our child is dead and the other one would rather kill us both in cold blood, so now you suddenly have the audacity to play mother!"
His words hurt, but she had always been stubborn to her ideals, this one in particular now her main focus of dedication.
"Doesn't matter how many apologies I tell you, write you or sing in a huge fucking stadium for you, just let me back in! Let me correct my many mistakes! Please, I'm begging you...let me be part of this family again, okay?" Luna aimed at herself, meaning every single word.
He stared at her, directly into those beautiful blue eyes of her's, filled with the passion she was known for. She meant it, everything that she spoke was the truth. She wanted to change and be a geniune mother for the first time in along time, not just to play a part or for a simple time being. He could see it, she wanted forgiveness.
"Even I don't know where to start. How could you?" Lincoln quizzed her.
"One day at a time." Was her response back.
"Okay fine, and what would your contribution to Day One be?" Lincoln goaded her.
Luna smiled back at him with arms crossed, "How about I pay off Lyra's debt. Good enough for you?"
Lincoln furrowed his eyebrows, "Where the hell did you get $7,500?"
"I actually made money doofus! You really though I spent the last four years playing in garages and receiving food coupons as payment?"
"Yes." He blankly stared at her.
Luna huffed, but accepted his response. He hadn't bothered to keep track of her after she left. Contrary to the belief of the family, Luna's band had managed to be well received, still far away from inkling a major contract, they had successfully made a name for themselves in the underground scene. She had collected a small fortune and was planning on making it grow even more, until her son died and her career came to a crashing halt. Right now she wanted to be a mother, music, for the first time in her life took a backseat.
"Let me pay it off, for Lyra, Lincoln." She pleaded.
Tossing his head back and groaning in defeat he conceded, "Alright, alright! Pull out your magic black card thingy bank account and write a check to that pesky lawyer."
"Thank you."
She walked away and headed for the door. A small ounce of satisfaction within her as she took her first step into proper motherhood. Like she said; one day at a time, until Lyra could forgive her. Opening the door wide and just setting one foot out she was called back by her brother's voice.
"Hey, since you got the urge to spend your enormous wealth, how about a quick donation to finally get the damn roof changed!"
A faint smile formed as she recalled this familiar banter that brought back memories of them two. Back when life was simple and it was their love that kept them strong and supportive. She was not going to give up on him and Lyra. She vowed in Lemy's name that this time she would truly be there for her family.
"Don't tempt me."
On the other side of town. On a lonely cemetery a single living person was present amongst a sea of graves. Sitting crossed legged on the grass with the soft wind blowing her hair to the side, she silently faced the tombstone of her one true love.
Lyra spoke no words since arriving to this spot, but it was not needed for her face spoke the many emotions swirling within her. She remained still, her eyes focused on the engraved words on the piece of marble in front of her. She kept on reading them in her mind over and over again.
LEMUEL LIMPBISCUIT LOUD
Oct. 28, 2028 - May 23, 2040
Son and Brother. Forever Loved.
She hadn't returned to this place since his funeral. Didn't want to be near this place ever again, but alas her she was. After last night she calmly walked back to Panther's home. A sensation of ease and oddly enough clarity emitted from her. All thoughts of suicide and deep self-loathing had vanished into the air. Her hands were tainted red, but her conscious was clean, clean and willing to do it again. That night her nightmares were no more.
First thing in the morning, this was the very exact place that came to mind. He was gone, but she just wanted to be close to him again. His gravestone was the closest to him in a spiritual level and Lyra needed to feel his presence if possible.
"I've killed two people already."
After almost twenty minutes of pure silence with just the wind producing the only noise around her, Lyra began to speak to him.
"Looking back, I...feel nothing. No satisfaction at all, they deserved to die and killed them I did, but...I guess, well I guess that two meaningless low lives isn't going to cut it for me...I'm glad they're dead, yet...I know that there is an ocean of them out there. Guess that's why I don't feel the need to celebrate such a small accomplishment this early...right, bro?"
Lyra eyed the tombstone. She wanted to believe that he was listening to her, that his spirit was right in front of her. It's normal to talk to your deceased loved ones, even if they are not physically there it's still a coping way to vent out all emotions, thoughts and worries; a mental diary if you would. Lyra was doing just that, she already knew that his spirit was in two likely places, but refused to deeply think about where his soul may have landed. If she had been a Catholic at least she would have the tranquility of knowing he was stuck in Limbo. She just wanted to hear his voice, but it would only be through memory and old recorded videos forever now.
"...I've been a real piece of shit to our family Lem. Call me a psycho because that's what I have become." Lyra unfolded her legs and placed a hand to her forehead to rub.
"I said some horrible...fucked up things to Lupa...I, was so angry with everyone...angry with the world, I justed wanted to blame them all, hate them all. She misses you. I... hurt her, Lemy, there's nothing left to say, she hates me and I fucking deserve it."
Lyra choked a bit on her words, the truth has always hurt the most and having to confront one self's questionable and immoral actions is the biggest pill to swallow. What she did to Lupa should had never been done, grief had guided her to the wrongful path. She lost Lemy, now she was heartbroken to lose her too. Lose that family bond, trust and above all, love.
"I...well, I hope that some...time down the road...she will have the heart to forgive me, but it's...not going to happen anytime soon or at all. All I can do now is to suck it up... and live with my stupid, fucking actions! She's hurting, but our dad is there to help her, Loan is there to comfort her... I'm actually proud of our big sister, she did something beautiful Lem, she really did." Lyra continued speaking.
Loan had finally stepped up and the family would have celebrated her, if only it hadn't happen the way it did. Surprising how it took Lyra of all people going completely mental for the most socially challenged person in the family to set her straight and claim her mantle. Everything and everyone had officially changed, whether bad or good, there was no going back.
Everything had changed, forever.
Lyra reached into a satchel that she had brought and pulled out her .357 Magnum revolver and held it with both hands, "The anger inside me, outweighs the loss I have for you...and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad one? Right now, honestly right now all I can think about is the people who did this to you. I want to find them and put a bullet in each one of their heads. I can't go back Lemy, I need to do this."
Lyra was now sitting with one knee on the ground next to his headstone, placing one hand on it, feeling it's rough, yet soft surface. Caressing the stone as if it were his face. Her eyes, soft and somber quickly turned hard and determined.
"God failed us, I won't fail you. I'm gonna make them pay for the suffering they brought, force them to relieve the same pain you did, hunt them down like the animals they are and send them all straight to hell. Nobody is going to stop me from avenging you. Even if it costs me my life."
Lyra held back any tears, she was done crying, being weak and distraught. Now she had a purpose, and by all things in this universe her quest for vengeance would be fulfilled, no matter how long and bloody her trail of bodies becomes. Standing up she placed the gun back in the satchel, right next to the knife she had newly acquired from the bastard she had happily executed the previous night. She put two fingers on her lips, kissing them, then placing them on his headstone.
Walking away with hands in her pockets, Lyra accepted and embraced her deal with the devil. And now her new crusade began.
I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell
The wrong side of heaven and the righteous side
The righteous side of hell