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Derek
I watch the rise and fall of his slumped form. My own breathing is rapid, and my heart hammers in my chest. I look down at my hands. The knuckles are swollen and spattered with the writer's blood. I look up and take in the sight of the beaten, bloodied and broken author in front of me. Pride swells in my chest as I see the results of my revenge-driven pursuit.
Mr. Castle's head is drooped on to his chest and his eyes are shut. Blood seems to ooze and spout from every orifice on his face. Black eyes originate from a broken and discolored nose. They stand out starkly against Mr. Castle's pale skin. A jagged crimson line runs down his right cheek, with dried blood trailing from the wound. His lip is split, and red liquid slides down his chin to drip on to the collar of his white shirt.
Transfixed, I walk up to Mr. Castle. Lifting his head, I watch the fresh blood trickling down his chin. The way the liquid congeals and slips from the wound on his lip, and then slithers down his chin is mesmerizing.
I watch the blood trail down to his chin, and then splatter on his white dress shirt. Each drip has me more and more absorbed in the cycle of it. I watch until the dripping slows, and then stops. The liquid has hardened and no longer flows like the ocean. The ocean.
I remember going to the ocean with Thomas. We would collect seashells, go fishing and explore the caves. We would race along the wet sand until our lungs burned and we collapsed from exhaustion. We would lie out at night underneath the stars, listening to the surf crash, talking about what we wanted to be when we grew up.
My heart breaks a little and angry tears well in my eyes. I snap out of my thoughts and push the painful memories away. I need a clear head for this plan to work. Focus.
"C'mon, c'mon already!" Beckett cried, exasperated. She had been sitting at the same red light for what felt like years. Beating her hands against the steering wheel, a series of colorful profanities escaped her lips.
3…2…1…
The light turned green as Beckett hit the gas pedal, jumping into the intersection. She was 5 minutes away from Castle's loft and knew this was no time to obey traffic laws. After a near-collision, some angry pedestrians, and more than a few horns honked in her direction, she finally pulled up to his loft. Turning the key in the ignition, she shut the car off. Leaning to the passenger side, she grabbed the two bags of groceries. On her way over she had stopped at a local bodega and picked up some cough and cold medicine, orange juice, crackers, three different kinds of soup, and cherry flavored cough drops. Stepping out of the car into the chilly night air, Beckett shivered in her coat and started quickly for the front door.
"Evening, John," Beckett greeted Castle's doorman with a smile.
"Why Detective, to what do I owe this pleasure?" John replied, sitting up in his chair.
"Well Castle is feeling a bit under the weather so I thought I would drop by after work and see him."
"By all means go ahead, and send my wishes for a speedy recovery to Mr. Castle!"
"Will do, and have a great night," Beckett grinned, spinning on her heel to head towards the elevators. Pressing the up button, Kate impatiently tapped the toe of her boot on the carpeted floor. Finally the elevator dinged, the doors opened, and Kate stepped inside, pressing the button to take her and her get-well bags up to Castle's floor. She could feel butterflies beginning to flutter in her stomach and a grin appeared on her face. Although she would never admit it, she was sort of excited to see him after a long day of boring work without his charm. Lost in her thoughts, the elevator continued to climb.
Derek
The plan is going perfectly. Mr. Castle is weak, and on the verge of death. Now the final chapter is about to begin….
I walk over to Castle's phone and prepare a text message.
-Hey Beckett, do you think you could come over?-
With the text sent, I sit down to wait. Not a minute later, a *ding* escapes from Castle's phone.
-Sure, Castle. Be right there.-
I can't help the malicious grin that spreads across my face. The plan is going perfectly.
A knock on the door alerts me to Detective Kate Beckett's arrival. I take my planned position behind Mr. Castle and wait for her to enter.
The door tentatively swings open and the beautiful detective is before me. The gasp that escapes her lips is music to my ears.
"Welcome Detective Beckett, we have been expecting you," I greet her.
Shock appears on her face as she replies, "Www-who are you?"
"Why detective, isn't it obvious? I am your worst nightmare."
"What do you want?" she manages, reaching for her weapon.
"No you don't," I say, pointing my own weapon at the back of Mr. Castle's head. "Don't reach for your weapon, just listen very carefully and we will walk away from this unharmed."
If only she knew that I am referring to her and I, not the captive in front of me. I go on to explain the same thing I told Mr. Castle, how we came to be in this moment of revenge, this epitome of violence. She seems to understand why I must do this, why I am here.
"Now you understand…now you must accept what must be done." With that, I take a firmer stance and prepare to pull the trigger.
A single gunshot can be heard, the sound reverberating off the walls of the apartment. The dead form of Richard Castle sits slumped in the chair, while the weeping form of Detective Beckett lies on the floor. Her sobs fill my soul, her tears warm my heart. Now she knows the pain I felt, now she knows the loss I endured. She too will cry and mourn, like I cried and mourned.
The final stage is over. My mission is finally complete...
I am suddenly roused from my fantasy by my captive beginning to stir. Satisfaction courses through my veins as I redirect my focus back to my prisoner. My eyes scan over his slumped form. I feed off of his pain; with each drop of blood, each cry of anguish, I know I am making my brother Thomas proud. I can almost see the life draining from his body. It seeps from the cut to his arm, the stab to his stomach, the broken ribs and bruised torso. The fight in him is weakening. The end is near.
*Ding*
Finally, Beckett thought as she exited the elevator. Repositioning the bags, she started down the hallway.
What do I do when I get there? Knock? Walk in? What if he doesn't want to see me?
Stop that kind of thinking, Beckett chastised herself. He will appreciate the gesture and not give it a second thought. They were partners after all, friends. And what's a friend if they don't take care of the other when they get sick? Exactly, Beckett thought.
She was there, right in front of his door. Anxious feelings swarmed in her stomach as she studied his door. Partners and friends look out for each other, Beckett thought to herself. That's all it was, a quick visit to drop off the medicine and food and she would leave. Simple.
She moved her hand to the doorknob and felt a different feeling begin to form inside of her. Gone were the anxious butterflies, and now slowly a cold pit settles in my gut. Immediately put off, Beckett jerked her had away from the doorknob, filled with foreboding.
Derek
Encircling the chair that held my prisoner, I question when the next stage will begin. A fleeting thought reminds me that patience is of the utmost importance. It will all be over soon, the end is so near.
Now is the time.
I reach my hand out to pick up Mr. Castle's phone to begin the final stage of my plan, when footsteps down the hall outside steal my attention away. The footfalls end outside the door, and a shadow can be seen underneath. I reach towards my gun and take up a position behind my prisoner.
Who could be here?