FANG'S POINT OF VIEW
I couldn't move fast enough. It was difficult to walk period, let alone sprint. I almost tripped a few times, knowing if I went down it would take even longer to get back up.
C'mon, dang it! Move! Faster!
It was pointless.
"Max!"
"What?!"
"Run ahead!"
"You sure?" she hollered at me, her face showing her anxiety for me.
"I could carry you!"
I pulled the revolver out of its hiding place and handed it to Max, giving her a demanding look.
"Max, GO!"
She didn't say another word. We both knew Max was the fastest runner around and could shave a few minutes off on her own. She dug her heels in the asphalt, her hair flying around her like it was fire. It was only seconds before she was yards ahead of me, turning the corner out of sight. I continued my awkward run, cursing as I went.
I'm coming Ella.
I'm coming.
Hold on.
ELLA'S POINT OF VIEW
Another piece of furniture was knocked over as I attempted to shield myself from my father's rage. Another glass object went flying near me, this time landing on my hip. It shattered, the shards exploding in every direction. The force and pain sent me to the floor, my blood splattering agaisnt the tile. I scrambled around the corner, looking for something to defend myself with. My father certainly had the upper hand.
He was planning to kill me, I knew it.
Every blow, every cut, wasn't an accident, a warning, or a light offense.
My father was bent on fatal damage.
My hands found a discarded bottle not a moment before my father grabbed me by my ankles and dragged me towards him. With the momentum, I swung my arms above my head and hit him in the chest with the bottle. It didn't break, but it made a solid sound, causing him to let go of me and stumble backwards.
I found my footing and ran, knowing he would be on my heels.
Come on, Fang! Where are you?! Please don't let me die, please don't let him kill me!
My father grabbed me by my hair, halting me. He kicked me in the back and let me fall, my body crumpling horrifically.
I am going to die here.
My father kicked my side twice, both times causing me to cry out. I allowed tears to sting my face, my hands going to my head. I lay in fetal position, praying for it all to end.
"What do you have to say for yourself? Did you miss me?"
When I didn't answer, he threw a nearby table onto me, the decorations crashing to the floor around me. The breath was knocked from my lungs and I was afraid I would never going to get it back. I whimpered, not daring to move while he stood over me.
"What? What's wrong, honey? Miss your brother? Miss him protecting you? Aww, you poor baby. Guess he doesn't care all that much, does he? He sure isn't here when you need him! Maybe he realized that you don't deserve it, hmm? Maybe he got smart and left. Left you here. You weren't worth his time. Hmm? Maybe-"
"Shut up!" I screamed, my inner rage coming out like a storm. I stood up, my face bloody and set like a stone.
"Fang is twice the man you will ever be, you horrible, loathsome snake!"
My father raised his eyes, surprise covering his features. I didn't care either way. I wasn't finished. I raised my head and screamed at him.
"How dare you insult him! How dare you even pretend like either of us deserved to share blood with a disgusting brute like you! Mother was right to leave you and I hope you die utterly alone with only your guilt at your funeral!"
At the mention of my mother, my father lunged at me, his face red with anger. But so was mine. I received him and we both hit the floor. I rolled on top of him, grabbing a nearby candle holder and striking him in the head as hard as I could. He threw me off him and grabbed me by my shoulders, lifting me. He pinned me agaisnt the wall, his face unbearably close to mine.
"You will learn your place, just like your mother did," he snarled at me. I kicked him to no avail, thrashing to get out from under his grip.
He threw me agaisnt the wall, my head making a sickening crack agaisnt the wood.
crack.
"Respect-"
crack.
My vision went blurry and I felt blood trickle down my neck to my shoulders.
"Your-"
crack.
".."
Everything went black.
MAX'S POINT OF VIEW
Almost there almost there. I'm coming Ella! I'll be there!
I ran around the corner, my feet sliding agaisnt the concrete. I sprinted as fast as I could make my legs go, the fastest I'd ever gone. I swore I was flying, since my feet hardly seemed to hit the ground. I could hardly see in the dim light, but my senses were all on high alert. I kept my eyes straight ahead, my head tucked and my arms pumping.
The gun in my hand seemed especially heavy. I had never shot a gun and I never wanted to.
But Ella needs me.
I'd do what it took.
When I FINALLY reached Fang's house, I could see a truck in the driveway. It was old and white, with mud splattered all over. I passed it and stopped at the door, unsure what to do. I wasn't about to knock or anything, but should I enter quietly? Break down the door and enter demand 'this was a stick up'?
To heck with subtlety.
I threw open the door, almost gasping at the sight of the chaos. Everything was broken, tipped over or somewhere it did not belong. Before I could holler for Ella, I heard a noise from the other room. I put the gun in my pocket and ran to find out what it was. When I turned the corner, I screamed.
"Ella!"
Her face was covered in blood and bruises, so much I hardly recognized her. I saw various cuts on her body, a small pool of blood beneath her. I ran up to her and held her, looking for a pulse. She wasn't moving, and I couldn't see her breathing. I found a small, slow pulse in her neck and sighed in relief. I set her down carefully and reached for my phone.
It fell out of my hands as I was grabbed from behind, a wet hand covering my mouth and another wrapping around my chest and trapping my upper arms. I screamed, flailed, kicked and even bit the hand over my mouth, but he stayed quite stubborn with his grip.
Only when I got a solid kick to his knee did he let go, allowing me to turn on him and get a look at the man who haunted the lives of the people I loved.
He was tall, with light brown hair that was a matted mess. He was filthy, his white tank top looking more grey than white. He was lanky for having so much strength. His glasses couldn't hide the mad look in his blue eyes. He looked feral.
"Who are you? What are doing here?!" he demanded, pinning me to the nearest wall roughly by my shoulders. I didn't answer, only looked around for a place to escape.
"Who ARE you?!" he said, slapping me across the face.
Now I was mad.
I reared up and kicked him where it hurt, catching him off guard. While he was bent over, I clasped me hands and drove my elbows into his head, moving aside as he fell to the ground. I kicked him in the nose, hearing a satisfying crack when I made contact. I pulled out the gun and aimed it at him, waiting for him to notice. He did, scowling.
"That's mine! You thief! Give that back right now-"
"Or what."
Instead of answering, he clipped me underneath my ankles and I went tumbling, the gun falling from my grip. He attempted to reach over me for the gun, but I smashed his head with mine, then tried to punch him in the jugular.
Wrong hand. I cramped up before I hit him, grunting with the pain. I retried with the other hand, but he moved out of the way. He got close to the gun, but I tacked him with all my strength, causing us both to hit the wall he had pinned me to before. We wrestled each other, both swinging and kicking furiously. I got the upper hand, his exhaustion siding with me.
I was able to reach the gun, getting a grip on it before turning to him once again. I took a couple steps back this time, giving me sufficient room from him.
"Move any closer and I will shoot," I warned icily. He looked up at me, breathing hard. We had moved far enough he couldn't use Ella and I was the one with the gun.
I had won.
Or had I?
Are you going to pull the trigger? Will you be the one who kills another? Can you live with murder?
Ella needs you. He has hurt them so much he deserves to die. You can't let him get away with this. It's self defense.
Can you kill him, though? Couldn't you just hold him hostage until the cops come? Bluff?
He won't believe you!
You can't kill him!
You have to stop this!
You aren't a murderer!
You aren't weak!
I tightened my grip and aimed the gun at his head. He put his hands up slightly in defense, his face daring me to do it. Daring me to kill him. Daring me to become the guilty.
I put my finger on the trigger, knowing he deserved it. He had done so much wrong.
Boom!
I swiveled my head at the noise, seeing from the hallway that Fang had come crashing through the door. In my moment of confusion, Fang's father grabbed the gun and turned on me.
"Max!"
"Fang-"
BOOM.
I was shot.
FANG'S POINT
"MAX!" I screamed, watching as her eyes rolled back and her body crashed to the ground. My father looked at her form and smirked.
I clenched my fists and lunged for him, tears in my eyes. I was crazed with rage, screaming and thrashing.
"You killed her! You KILLED HER! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"
I threw punches, kicked and threw everything I could manage, my only intent to do damage. My father fought back, but I couldn't feel anything. I was mad with grief. I advanced, scratching his face and knocking him over. Shots rang through my ears, none of the bullets hitting me. I was moving around so furiously he couldn't get a solid shot. He caught my fist, swinging me off of him and pointing the weapon at me. When he pulled the trigger, only a small click came from it.
Empty.
Filled with new hope of winning, I picked up a vase on the floor next to me and hit him square in the face. He screamed and covered his eyes, stepping back.
"That's for Iggy," I said, picking up an overthrown table and smashing it agaisnt him until it was in splinters.
"That's for Ella," I spit.
Next I grabbed the gun. I jumped on him and held him there, rendering him defensless.
"And this," I said, my voice choked, "is for Max."
I swung as hard as I could, connecting his temple with the butt of the gun. He stopped moving and went still, his eyes closing.
When I was sure he wasn't faking it, I scrambled off him and went to Max, whose blood was now circled all around her. I looked for a bullet hole, checking her head first. When I saw none I checked her neck, running my fingers lightly agaisnt her bloody skin. I found the wound in her shoulder, near her collarbone.
When I touched it she gasped in pain, her brow furrowing.
"Max," I breathed, thinking she had been dead. "Max! Can you hear me?"
"Fa...I didn...-"
"Shhh, you're okay, you don't have to talk. Here, this might hurt a little." I took off my hoodie and pressed it agaisnt her wound, causing her to grimace.
"Fang-"
"Be quiet. You odn't have to say anything."
"Fang...-la.."
"What?"
"Ella."
My blood ran cold. I got up and searched the surrounding area, searching for a sign of my sister's body. Max moaned, holding up a hand to the direction of my sister. I ran that direction, tripping over fallen objects. I caught sight of her hair and kneeled next to her, horrified by what I saw.
My Ella. My poor, sweet, Ella. She was in bad shape. Her breath came out shallowly, her body limp. She was unconscious, but she was alive.
I didn't know what to do. Help Ella, or help Max? Both needed medical help and fast. I didn't know what had happened to my phone and I didn't dare leave them. Just then, the door creaked open and I heard a timid, relieving voice call out.
"Ella? El! El, are you here?"
"Iggy!"
"Fang? Where's Ella?!"
"In here! She needs help!"
Iggy ran, despite the difficulty of navigation. He reached me in two seconds flat, running his hands from my shoulders to my hands and then to Ella, assessing the damage. His face wen white with terror as his fingertips were stained with my sister's blood.
"We have to get her out of here, Ig. Max's shot and my dad's in the hallway out cold. Take Ella and get out. Go next door and call 911. I'll get Max."
Iggy nodded, gently taking my sister into his arms. He stood and walked slowly out of the room, taking his time to be careful. I scrambled up and over to Max, who was now pressing the jacket to shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding.
"Max," I said, thinking about how to get her out without hurting her, "we gotta go."
"I don't think I can get up," she said, smiling sadly at me.
"You have to get up, Max. You can't stay here. Help will be here any minute and you just have to help me-"
"I lied."
"-get you...wait, what?"
"I lied," she repeated, her voice strained and uneven.
"You didn't tell me that you sang. I knew that."
"What are you talking about, Max? Why does it matt-"
"You said you loved me."
I stopped mid sentence, looking down at Max. She had tears in her eyes, whether from pain or sadness or something else completely I didn't know.
"You didn't want me to go," she whispered, her eyes fluttering. She smiled again, a tear falling down her cheek.
She way dying, I knew it. I leaned down and kissed her softly, moving her hair out of her face.
"I still don't," I whispered back. She looked at me, her shiny eyes full of what seemed like happiness before they closed shut.
"Max?"
"Max..."
"Max!"
"Max, wake up!"
"Please!"
"MAX!"
.
"Our breaking story tonight: domestic violence breaks out in a suburban home, leaving one dead. Police say Jeb Batchelder attacked his daughter, Ella, beating her repeatedly until she became unconscious. She signaled for help from her friend and her brother, both of whom were caught up in the violence upon arriving at the scene.
"Sources say Batchelder fired eight rounds from a revolver, one of them hitting Maximum Martinez. Martinez and Batchelder's son, Nicholas, were able to subdue Batchelder and call for authorities where they say both police and paramedics arrived a short time later. Ella Batchelder, as mentioned previously suffered major injuries but is expected to recover. Martinez, who police say is lucky to be alive, is still in the hospital in critical condition."
"Yeah, Barbs doctors say she lost a lot of blood but was able to receive quick treatment which may have saved her life. The perpetrator, however, died on the way to the hospital. He, like the others involved, was given pretty major injuries but doctors say his body just couldn't handle the stress. His son got out with minor injuries and has since been released from the hospital. More on the story as it develops. Back to you, Dean."
.
MAX'S POINT OF VIEW
"You feelin' okay?" Fang asked for the millionth time, watching me from my bedside.
"Darling, I'm fine. Promise. I have so many drugs in my system I don't have a choice in the matter anyway," I said, grinning at him.
He didn't get the joke. I sighed.
"Hon, if you don't calm down, I must just have to sedate you. Here, let's play a game of cards to pass the time."
"Max, you-"
"Cards, Fangy. Now."
He reluctantly pulled out his deck and began to shuffle. If he didn't loosen up, he was going to hurt himself. He had been ridiculously over protective for the past week. Ella got released and was sent to Iggy's, leaving only me for Fang to worry over. I was doing fine, but he wouldn't let it go. Sure, I was ahving nightmares and I got freaking shot, but it's all in a day's work, right?
"Fang."
"What are you thinking about?"
"I'm thinking I'm going to cream you in this game."
"No, I mean...before. Did you think...did you think you were going to die?"
"I-..."
Fang waited.
"I guess so. I didn't really think about it that way. I just new things were going to change. And I was tired. I was ready just to sleep."
"Then why did you tell me?"
"Because I figured if things were changing, I might've never seen you again. I thought you deserved to know."
Fang only nodded, keeping his eyes on his cards. When the silence got to me, I put down my hand.
"I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable or anything. I get that you said it because of your meds or whatever, so it's really not that big of a deal-"
I was cut off when Fang kissed me for the second time, though this time he was a tad bit more bold. When he pulled back, I just smiled.
"Either way goes, really."
.
.
.
Is this the end? Do you need more? Has the story been resolved? What things would you like to see, if any? TELL ME!
And yes, that was FAX. You're welcome.
Love you!
-wise_yet_harmless