Page 120 of Merciless Queen

It’s after that task when it all hits me.

It’s over.

Boris Agopov can no longer hurt children.

He’ll be burning inAd, his soul torn apart first by me and then whatever’s down there to finish the task.

I can recall the moments after Boris climbed off me when I was fifteen like it only happened yesterday. When my mind and body were processing what they survived and couldn’t stop shaking.

It’s the same quivers that wrack me now. That slows my steps away from the warehouse’s interior until I all but fall against the door. My grip manages to work long enough to open it, a burst of fresh nighttime air clearing my lungs with a scent other than death. My legs give out and I fall to my hands and knees on the gravel.

I cry. A loud scream shared only with nature. It blends with the darkening sky, heading up to the clouds. If I’m lucky, the gravel takes it too and sucks it beneath the dirt, straight to where his soul is headed forAd.

It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

Every single person who harmed me is gone.

So why does it still hurt? Why do my eyes form tears that drip through the blood staining my cheeks, and my hands clench the rocks beneath my palms, and memories of past and present continue to battle, replacing the mantra I remind myself of?It’s over.

When I remembered him approaching me on the bed, I stabbed any part of him my knife could reach.

When I remembered the slimy sensation of his touch, I cut chunks from him.

When I remembered him slicing my clothes, baring me like I was some sort of gift to unwrap, I too cut off his so he could feel everything all the more, so nothing sopped up the blood.

When I remembered him climbing on top of me, his hands spreading my thighs, his hips settling between my legs, I let go.

He screamed.

I sliced.

He screamed.

I stabbed.

He screamed.

I burned.

He screamed.

I screamed.

“I vowed to kill you that day. With every thrust, every touch, every breath, I promised I’d get you back for it all. Yet…this isn’t enough.”

Slice. Stab. Burn.

Scream. Plea. Cry.

Bile rises up my throat and lands on the ground in front of me.

It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

I wish I could remember everything that happened. Wished I’d have the memories forever, but trauma already locked them within another part of my brain. Maybe it’s for the best, to put it all behind me, but I’m also pissed that my mind has decided what’s best. Iwantto remember how this night began with a living, human being tied to a chair, who’s now nothing but fractured limbs, burning to ashes that’ll be swept up and dumped in the garbage.

He deserves nothing else. Nothing less and nothing more. He deserves for his memory to be erased from anyone he touched. All that’s left of him now is a couple fingers, pieces of a torso, and maybe a leg. Everything else is undecipherable, the way I always imagined this going.

The tears don’t stop. My body won’t stop. My mind doesn’t work any longer.

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