Darkness Becoming: Chapter 4

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you, right now for what you’ve done,” Sierra hissed. She held her captive firmly by the neck, pressed against the wall with the grip of one hand. He dangled above the floor.

Her prisoner, Mestipen, laughed uncontrollably. He was unable to speak, the situation was so hysterically funny to him. His continued cackling only aggravated her further. She tightened her grip on him, pulled him forward and threw him up against the stone wall of the cellar, emphasizing her displeasure. Her threatening action made the situation no less amusing to him.

Sierra had intended to return home only briefly. She had come to pick up a car to transport Chase out of the warehouse. Time was running out for him and she couldn't afford to wait any longer. She had to risk leaving him by himself, while she travelled out of the city's core to the secluded location of the mansion. When she arrived, she had sensed that Mestipen was back in the house and had gone to search him out. She had found him in the basement, hidden in the labyrinth of hallways, leading to various cellars and storage rooms.

“Oh come on, Sierra,” he managed through his laughter. “Don’t be angry with me. I was giving you a gift.”

In her other hand, Sierra held a wooden stake. It was fashioned from a black ash tree, the deadliest and most effective type of wood for a stake to be made from. It would glide smoothly and efficiently into his chest, effectively ending the cause of her current dilemma in a puff of ashes. However, it would not solve her problem.

She loosened her grip on Mestipen’s throat and let him drop to the floor, but she held the stake firmly. He doubled over, trying to compose himself.

“A gift. You think what you’ve done is a gift?”

“Oh, my darling Sierra. I’ve watched you for so long. Wanting him. Aching for him. Your desire so powerful that it was an entity unto itself."

By this time he had composed himself. He circled slowly around her until he was behind her. She remained motionless, but turned her head ever so slightly, to keep track of him. He touched her, letting his fingers trail gently down her neck and across her shoulder. She didn’t move to stop him.

He whispered in her ear, “How long were you going to continue to watch him from afar? Dreaming of holding him in your arms, your jealousy of her so strong that it would make a grown man weep? Well, it was more than even I could bear.”

“You wanted to kill him.” Her soft brown eyes briefly flashed red with anger.

“Oh, no, no. Quite the contrary. I meant for him to live. For you. But, I was interrupted.”

“You still haven’t given me a reason to let you live.”

Mestipen turned her around to face him. She looked back at her friend with cold, dark eyes. His face was beautiful, flawless. A paradox of delicate porcelain skin over strong, chiseled cheek bones, framed by short, wavy, strawberry blond hair. His blueberry eyes danced brightly with mischief, a touch of amusement still on the edge of his mouth. His face softened. He dropped to his knees and took her hand with the stake into his own. He positioned the stake at the center of his chest and pressed it against the cage of bone that protected his most vulnerable spot.

“What I did, I did out of love for my dearest friend. You would never take him for yourself, so I did. To give you the companion you desired, so that the two of you may roam the Earth for the rest of days, together. If love is a crime, then stake me where I kneel.”

“It wasn’t for you to choose,” she said savagely.

“Tell me you didn’t want him,” Mestipen taunted.

"You drained him and left him. You meant for him to die.”

“I had to flee. I was discovered.”

“Then you should have taken him with you and finished it!”

“I couldn’t have taken him. They would have followed. But you were there to save him. If you didn’t want it to happen, you could have stopped it," he countered.

Sierra was momentarily taken aback. He was right. She had arrived after Mestipen had started, but before he had gone too far. She could have stopped him. It was wrong, but she knew deep down that she wanted what Mestipen was willing to give her. What she never would have voluntarily taken for herself. But there was a greater issue at hand. Her fury returned.

“You had his blood. It had to be you! I didn’t have enough to give him and he didn’t get his own back,” she raged at him.

Realization crossed Mestipen’s face. The playfulness drained from him. He released her hand and slowly rose to his feet.

“What happens now?” he asked tentatively, with wide eyes.

“I don’t know. We watch. I watch. I’ll try to nurse him as best as I can and we’ll see what happens.”

"Where is he now?"

"He's in an abandoned warehouse. I couldn't manage him on my own, so I came back to the mansion to get a car. But I can't be gone for long, it's not safe. They are still looking for him and he could be discovered at any moment. I have to get back to him."

Mestipen was hesitant. "Should I come with you?"

"I don't think I can stand to be around you, right now."

Mestipen was visibly hurt by her words. “Sierra, I never meant...”

“That’s the problem with you, isn’t it, Mestipen?” she shot at him. “You never mean anything. You never take anything seriously and you certainly never think things through. It’s all just a big game to you. Everyone and everything is here for your amusement. One day, you’ll cross someone who’s not as forgiving as I.”

Sierra left the room, her enraged heels, clacking sharply on the stone floor. Mestipen’s face clouded over as he watched her leave.

Why didn't anything ever go right? he thought, angrily to himself.