Third Person’s POV
Maxine's body was drenched in a cold sweat as she stared at the empty doorway. She struggled to catch her breath, feeling a sharp pain in her lungs with every inhale.
With great effort, she slid her arms underneath her and pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. A defeated cry escaped her lips and hung in the air.
"Ahhhh~"
Blood trickled down her face from the wound on her forehead, staining her chin and the ground below. Tears mixed with traces of blood streamed down her face as she slowly stood up.
Her head spun, and it felt as if there was an invisible force pulling her down, stronger than the Earth's gravity. But she knew it was only her experiencing this sensation. She was the one tormented by unbearable pain.
Maxine had been stabbed in the stomach with a knife. Fresh blood gushed from the wound as she struggled to stand, pressing her hand against it, feeling powerless.
Maxine gazed down at the man lying on the ground, his mouth agape.
It was Mike, her partner and old buddy, whom she had killed.
She couldn't tell if her vision was blurred from the blood loss or if she was just overwhelmed with emotion.
Memories flooded back of the day they had shared their dream of freedom. They had both longed for a place where they could sleep without nightmares or cries for help. They clung to the hope that if they did their job well, that dream would become a reality.
They had followed the orders of a man who posed as their savior, but was truly evil. Ian had called himself their 'father', 'hero', and 'home'.
But what kind of father asks his children to commit murder?
What kind of hero turns on the person they once saved?
What kind of home threatens you with a knife at your throat?
Maxine realized that all of Ian's promises were empty lies. He had used them, and now he would discard them if they were no longer useful. Sadly, her friend Mike had become nothing more than a pawn in Ian's twisted game.
And look what happened? Mike is dead.
Does it mean Maxine can achieve her goal to be free?
All she wanted before was to break free from slavery. But after meeting Agatha, her dreams grew from a pinhole to an oasis. Now, she dreams of a life filled with good food, a place to live, a job, friends, and maybe even a special someone.
Maxine grinned foolishly as she pondered over these dreams.
But eventually, she realized the reason why dreams were labeled as ‘dreams’. It was because pursuing a dream meant either achieving it or waking up from it.
Maxine slowly inched forward, dragging herself closer to the wine cellar entrance. Her stomach clenched and she vomited blood, draining the last of her energy.
Her vision blurred, focusing only on the crimson blood and the dull gray floor beneath her.
Gasping for air, her breath rasped like a creaking gate, as if there was a grater lodged in her throat. Leaning against the door frame, Maxine glanced up and down repeatedly, trying to alleviate the agony from her stab wound.
Maxine let out a dry laugh as she felt her breathing steady. Glancing down at her wound, she couldn't help but grimace at the gruesome sight.
“That darn…” Maxine chuckled huskily. She knew it right then that Mike had placed poison on his knife. “He made sure we will die together.”
As she stood there, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning her head, she squinted through the haze and saw a multitude of guns aimed in her direction.
“This is police! Raise your hands!”
The police arrived at the mansion to find wounded men on the ground and a dead man in the wine storage. Maxine knew they would come, as she had called them beforehand. With shaky, bloodied hands, she raised her hands in surrender.
“This is…” she murmured. “Game over.”
From killing innocent lives and Agatha’s father, Maxine will finally put an end on her nightmare today.
Thud.
She fell unconscious on the ground with a bitter smile on her lips.
** *** **
Today's news is all about the two chairmen from a big corporation who got arrested as suspects for murder and attempted murder. The news also mentions the tragic death of Chairman Jake Dawson's son, Mikhail, on the same day his father was taken into custody.
The investigation revealed that the driver who intentionally hit Mikhail was actually employed by Chairman Ian Grim. People are speculating about the circumstances surrounding Mikhail's death. Despite the rumors, everyone feels sorry for the young boy who lost his life in his early 20s.
Many are mourning, but the ones grieving the most are none other than Mikhail's mother and sister.
"Oh, my poor child! Why did you have to leave us?!"
"Brother!"
The sound of their cries filled the room. His mother and sister wept together in front of Mikhail's ashes, calling out his name repeatedly.
Agatha, who was standing near the entrance, could hear every heartbreaking sob from a mother who lost her child and a sister who lost her best friend.
Agatha lowered her gaze, gnawed on her lower lip until it bled.
She longed to enter. She yearned to meet his family, whom she had never encountered, and share the grief she felt over his ex-boyfriend's passing. But she couldn't.
'How can I confront them and reveal that Mikhail perished because he shielded me?'
The response is evident. Agatha believes she lacks the authority to console those who cherished and cared for Mikhail.
She didn't have faith in him when she had the opportunity.
She didn't listen to his reasoning, when he wished she could grasp why it took him so long to find courage.
And in his final moments, she couldn't offer an apology.
Agatha squeezed her eyes shut. She blamed herself in a manner only someone who felt the same way as she did could comprehend.
“Hey,” Sebastian called out to her, catching Agatha's attention. She turned to see him standing beside her, leaning against the wall with a concerned look in his eyes.
Noticing her red, teary eyes, Sebastian's heart ached with pain and guilt. "What are you doing out here?" he asked in a low, gravelly voice.
Agatha remained silent, bowing her head in response.
"Are you... blaming yourself?" Sebastian inquired, his voice filled with empathy.
Her frown deepened as she nervously bit her already wounded lips.
"If that's the case," Sebastian sighed heavily, "then I guess we're in the same boat."
Agatha stopped biting her lips, meeting his gaze. His sorrowful expression mirrored her own feelings of guilt, and she realized they were both struggling with the same emotions.
"Actually, I was there when it happened," Sebastian shared. "I saw the car too, maybe even before Mikhail did. And I was right by your side. But I was so shocked that I couldn't move at all. It's just pathetic and idiotic to stand there and watch the whole scene unfold right in front of you."
"..."
Sebastian frowned, trying to hold back the tears in his eyes. "If only I had reacted faster, Mikhail might still be alive. If only I had been braver, he might have survived. And now, standing here, I feel nothing but guilt and disgust towards myself."
She thought she had cried all her tears and emptied all her emotions. But when Agatha heard Sebastian's words, echoing her own feelings, the pain came rushing back instantly.
Agatha's hand flew to her mouth, stifling any sound that threatened to escape. Sebastian glanced at her and noticed the subtle movement of her shoulder, confirming that she was silently crying, her world shattered into fragments.
But he couldn't erase all her pain. Sebastian understood, just as Agatha had before, that he didn't have the authority to console her, not even with a gentle pat on the back. Nevertheless, he was determined to make things right in his own way.
"I'll make sure to bring justice to those who have hurt you, and to those who took Mikhail away from us. I'll fight with every ounce of my being, Agatha."