Page 32 of Reine's Salvation

“No,” he said adamantly.

“Reine, I know it’s none of my business, but maybe therapy would help.”

“I have been to therapy. It did not help. It is more complicated than you think.” His fingers on her leg stiffened.

“Please, tell me about it.” She kissed his jaw, hoping to soothe him. He sighed. He looked at her intently. He sunk in his cheeks. Doubt was evident on his face. Mystique waited. She would not force him to speak, but if they wanted a relationship, she had to know. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized the complexity of her thought. A relationship? Just a few minutes ago she’d been considering not seeing him again, and now she was thinking about being with him permanently. She swallowed. She was in more deep than she believed.

“I cut off my own arm, Mystique.”

Her eyes widened. Had she heard wrong?

“What? Why?”

Reine closed his eyes.

“I will tell you, though you will not understand.”

“Thank you.”

She leaned against his chest and took his hand. She held her breath, waiting for him to begin his tale.

“I was on a mission. It was in a dark place.” Reine paused. “There were many rooms there, hundreds.”

“Go on,” she said softly.

“My team got separated. We found ourselves going in different directions, through door after door of horrors, fighting within an inch of our lives. Then we entered the room.”

She heard him swallow drily and his body tensed beneath her.

“I can’t even properly call it a room. It was more of a hallway. It was gloomy, but there was enough light we could see the paintings on the wall. Row after row of paintings, all the same size, all with the same blood-red frames. We tried to avoid looking closely at them, but the more we walked through the passage, the more curious we became. Finally, one of the men couldn’t resist. He stopped to look at one and what he saw horrified us.” Reine shuddered.

“The portraits were alive. It was like watching a scene from a movie play over and over again on loop, depicting the final moments of a human soul. As if pulled by an invisible force, we went through the hall gazing into each painting. And that’s, that’s when I saw Leslie.”

Reine’s voice cracked. Mystique didn’t move, afraid that if she did he would not continue.

“The painting depicted her accident. I watched the moment that bastard missed the light and rammed into her, destroying her.”

Reine’s fingers on her thigh tightened. “Then, he took her. He dragged her soul away as if it belonged to him.” Reine cleared his voice. “I knew it wasn’t possible. Leslie couldn’t be one of his victims, but still the doubt lingered in my head until I felt I had to confirm she wasn’t there. I had to know for sure. I became so immersed in my thoughts I lost my comrades and ended up in the room that would be my downfall.”

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