Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I have failed.
Utterly failed.
She was right about me. I’m a piece of shit. I’m a small, evil, lying, thieving piece of shit.
And I deserve this curse.
“Hate is my soulmate, despair is my friend.
The fog is my solace, the darkness my end.
No love for me, this curse is eternal.
Hell is my home, my existence infernal.
The road is long, and lonely, and sad.
The spaces between drive me wild and mad.
No reward is forthcoming, no prize in the win.
For there is no winning when you’re neck-deep in sin.
The gate is too narrow, too slim, too straight.
I’ll never pass through, it is far too late.
I’ll wander all lost and heavy with weight.
Hate is my soulmate, my soulmate is hate.”
I get up, walk down the hill, enter my foggy little town, walk to the bar, go inside, and grab a bottle of whiskey. I go outside and walk down the street, thinking about Callistina.
Who was my soulmate.
Was. But no longer is.
Because she’s dead.
Because I killed her.
And this was my plan from the moment she told me there was a door on my hillside.
I set her up.
I have crossed a line here. A very bright line. I had made peace with what I did to Pie. Accepted that I was being selfish and I had a direct hand in bad things that happened to her as she was growing up.
I even made a promise to her. To try to make up for it.
“I want you to bless Jacqueline,” Pie had said. “If she needs help, you will be there. It means, if she’s sad, you will make her happy again. It means, if she gets a flat tire in the middle of the night, you will drag your ass out of bed, fly to wherever she is, and fix it. You will bless her. That’s what I want. You will make her life a living dream.”
I had agreed at the time, but I didn’t mean it. I didn’t even feel bad about not meaning it because the fog around Savage Falls was still there for me. It’s not like I could follow Jacqueline back to wherever she came from. I’m a prisoner. This place is my prison.
I knew the promise was empty. But I had been making empty promises my whole existence. So what is one more to the little girl whose life I stole and who I discarded the moment I had no more use for her?
It’s a fucked-up thing to do, and I knew that. But I could accept it.
Things turned out OK for her, didn’t they? If I hadn’t done what I did, she wouldn’t be living out her happily ever after with her monster.
But what I have done to Callistina is a whole other level of low.
I killed her.
I cut off her antlers to steal her magic.
I used her.
And I get it. I use everyone. It should not come as a surprise that I just did what I’ve always done. But I thought I had grown after what happened with Pie. I thought I was gonna change. I thought there was a second chance for me. I really thought I was going through that door with Callistina so we could start over. I really thought we were gonna be friends.
But all along I was planning to kill her.
I am evil.
I am worthless.
And this is my limit. There is a point in a man’s life where he just has to face facts. Reality check, if you will. When all the senseless self-reflection is over and it’s no longer useful to deny the truth.
A point when you realize the world is a much better place without you.
And just as I think this, I walk into the fog.
Because this was my limit.
I have crossed my own line.
And I know in my heart that all the worlds that exist are far better places without me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - CALLISTINA
I am standing in Vinca.
Or, actually, the place that used to be Vinca. It’s utterly destroyed. Large chunks of buildings lie scattered around like a tipped-over toybox filled with building blocks. The air is hazy, but it’s not a mist or smoke. It’s dust.
Vinca is nothing but leftover dust.
I think I understand the nightmare now. I think it’s just… guilt. I feel responsible for the destruction of this beautiful city that I turned ugly.
I was a terrible queen. Possessed with an evil spirit inside me.
The dragon wasn’t Madeline, even if it was.
The dragon was me.
And the funny thing is—I loved this city. I loved the people, too. I loved the palace—not because I lived there, but because it was the epitome of human and chimera creativity.
The whole city was, really. The pinnacle of civilization.
Just like Glory Rome.
Why then, after all that struggle and perseverance, do we always end up tearing it down?
Is it because the goal has been realized and the challenge is over?