Hallows: The Golden Viper

The Hero Always Dies

The Plot In You- I ALWAYS WANTED TO LEAVE

B.B.:

I'm not sure how I got to my room. The last moment of clarity was when I placed my hand on Espinosa's head. Everything after that is flitting by in a blur of violence, regret, and pain. I get up to take a couple of joints from my desk and go over to the fireplace to sit in front of it. I feel like throwing up. Like I haven't eaten in days and then suddenly tried to eat as much as I can all at once. My hands shake violently as I put the lighter on the end of the joint. I have to try a couple of times to get the flame going. My fear along with Espinosa's is a lot. A lot more than I've ever had to handle.

It's weird to think about Heroes and Villains. I doubt there's a difference. I am under no delusion about what and who I am. If I had to put a name on it, I'd be a villainess. Not a very good one. I don't think villains feel bad about what they do. If they do, they're probably really good at hiding it. I've always been a f*****g weenie.

David Espinosa once thought he was a hero. He honest to god believed that what he was doing was the right thing to do. He was fed all these righteous lies and tortured into submission until all he knew was what they wanted him to become. Then it all turned on him. He lost faith in all of it. The very thing he had been working to become wasn't all he thought it would turn out to be. He learned that they lied and that everything he stood for was meaningless.

He was five years old a few days from turning six when a man dressed as a priest put the Spear of Gabriel in his hand. That night he went home to his mom. I don't really know why there was a panther in his home when he went to bed but it killed his mother and he was forced to use the spear that had been given to him earlier that day for the first time.

To Espinosa, it was a mere coincidence. One he was happy to accept because he had killed the thing that stole his innocence and the person who loved him the most. Not to mention the fact that he received nothing but praise afterward. By the time he received his hunter marks, he had killed eighteen Hallows.

At ten, he was given the assignment that would turn him into a legend among other hunters like him. By then, he had killed countless amount of "monsters". Vampire dens, werewolf packs, entire regions of Stones.

I can't imagine the trauma a little boy like that feels to be turned into what he was. I can't imagine having to close my eyes to see my hands stained in the blood of those who may or may not have been killers. My body is rejecting his essence and it feels a lot like watching myself stab Ashley in the chest over and over and over and over again. At the very least, I know the souls I devour deserve it. There isn't uncertainty in it once Remy puts her hands around my throat.

A tap on my door scares the hell out of me but I don't move to answer it or even acknowledge the presence. I know who it is. Ashley. The last person I want to see right now. I know she's not going to listen to me asking her to leave me alone so I say nothing as she slowly opens the door and walks in. She shuts the two of us in and comes over to me. Without saying a word she sits on the floor next to me facing away from the fireplace. I look over at her and offer her the joint in my hand. She takes it.

Please, don't f*****g open your mouth.

"Alexa, play I'd Rather Die Than Be Famous," she calls out and music fills the silence of my room. "I f*****g hate this band," she scoffs. "But when I was pregnant with you, this was my favorite song,"

"Why?" I sniffle taking the spliff back. It was a little too much to ask for. I'll keep it smaller next time universe.

"You made me feel homesick. I wanted to be here in this f*****g prison," she breathes out of her nose like it's funny. "It was the only place where you wouldn't fuss all night. The only place I could settle down enough to eat and relax. You were born in Memphis. It wasn't until we brought you here that you finally settled down and had a full night's sleep. Your dad thought it was funny. I'd play this song for you when you got fussy. Settled you right down the moment he screamed Call the Police,"

"Why are you here?" I ask her blowing out a puff of smoke. The fact that she's trying to comfort me is only making the rage in me worse. I'm going to have to hurt her feelings. This is going to be our thing. I can feel it.

"David has told me about some of the things he's done. He told Dante that you saw all of it," she sighs. "Did you know that was going to happen?"

"Yeah, but David is a f*****g nerd. I didn't think-" I turn away feeling my body shudder. I inhale deeply until the smoke burns and it feels like my lungs are going to turn to ash inside of me. I tighten the hold myself and try to keep it together because I don't want to fall apart in front of her. "Dad's life was a f*****g walk in the park compared to his. I've said some of the most f****d up s**t I can come up with to him. I'm going to let Carson and Lucien rip him to shreds when I'm done with him,"

"B.B. you can't go to war with the Church," she shakes her head.

"Watch me," I scoff. She lets out a heavy sigh.

"I admit that their methods aren't orthodox but much like you and the other Hallows, they're a necessary evil. Not all Hallows are like you and your friends. Dad wasn't. Kelly and her husband. Stacy's father. None of them did anything for the right reasons,"

Her words burn in my chest. How dare she come in here and try to talk sense into me. Who the f**k does she think she is?

"No one does anything for the right reason, Ashley. There is no such thing as good and bad. Do you think me murdering you in my garden was the right thing to do? In what f*****g world? You sound stupid. You're a horseman for f***s sake. What is it that you're trying to do here? Comfort me? Please, get the f**k out of my room," I growl.

"I don't think you should be alone right now," she says calmly and completely unaffected by the fact that I am f*****g upset.

"Yeah, well thinking isn't your strong suit. Why don't you go downstairs and play your f*****g piano? It's all you're ever going to be good at," I hiss at her. She stands up and goes over to the door.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. But you can't keep all of that bottled up, B.B. I'm just trying to help,"

"Get the f**k out, Ashley," I shout. "If I did need help I sure as f**k wouldn't need yours. Alexa turn the f*****g music off!"

Without saying another word she walks out slamming the door behind her. This is usually the part when I instantly regret what comes out of my stupid mouth but I can't bring myself to feel bad right now. Not where it concerns her. I can hear her crying outside of my door and the memories of the night I killed her come rushing back.

The way all the glass in here turned to dust. How the stars all fell from the ceiling and the little girl who had needed her mother died on that bed. Her presence stirs the pieces of her inside of me and I'm reminded of what I am.

The resentment and the pain that came with the realization that I murdered my mother to put her out of her misery. The realization that I had taken her pain and made it my own. Does she really think she can come in here and play a stupid song, tell me a dumb story, and that everything will be okay? What the f**k is wrong with her?

"You cannot be talking to Mom like that, Belladonna," Delilah storms into my room without knocking. I need to start locking my door again. f**k Carson's rule. "She's crying,"

"Get out of my room, Del," I say calmly.

"No, you can't just go around telling people off because-"

"Delilah," I scream at the top of my lungs. She stops. "If I have to tell you again you're not going to like it, please,"

"Or what?" she scoffs at me. "You're going to hit me?"

"Do you want me to?" I try not to laugh but I'm close to breaking and need her to leave. I want to be alone.

"If that's what it takes for you to stop acting like a wounded f*****g dog, yeah," she stands her ground. "Hit me you f*****g emo b***h," she steps towards me. "Are you mad that you had to kill Mom?" she laughs. "Are you f*****g mad that you're an all-powerful reaper, b***h? Poor sad little Bella Blackstone. With her multi-million dollar mansion and her bottomless amount of money. Let's not start on the six boyfriends you f*****g little w***e," she shoves me. "Oh, I only love bad boys because I have seriously f****d up dad-"

I swing at her. My fist connects with her face and she goes through the doorway. I rush after her wrapping my arms around her waist. I push off the ground so hard we go through the wooden banister. She chokes out a groan when we land on the floor below. My fist connects with her face over and over until a pair of arms wraps around me and pulls me away from her.

"Get off me," I growl reaching for her.

"Enough," Dad shouts from the family room. He comes to stand between us. His eyes are wild as he looks from her to me.

"I just wanted to be f*****g left alone!"I scream. "Is that too much to f*****g ask for?"

"B.B., calm down," he shakes his head. "Go upstairs and we'll give you some space,"

"You f*****g always take her side," Delilah spits a mouthful of blood on the floor. "No matter what she f*****g does, you always find a way to be proud of her for it but god forbid I raise my voice at Mom without you backhanding me into next week! I f*****g hate you! You f*****g asshole!"

She pushes Lucien away from her and runs up the stairs to her room.

"Go to your f*****g room, Belladonna," Dad growls at me. I look back at Victor when he lets go of me. They're all in shock. They don't really know what to do. I don't know what to do myself.

"My hand is broken," I say stepping away from him. My head whips around when his hand hits me across the face. No one moves a muscle when he grips my hair tightly to make me look up at him.

"If you ever raise your f*****g hands like that to your sister again I will f**k you up. Do you understand me?" he growls. He tugs on my hair harder when I don't answer him right away. "Am I making myself clear, Belladonna?" he roars. "Answer me!"

"Yes," I choke out. He releases me and I stumble away from him.

"Room. Now," he shouts.

I can taste blood in my mouth as I hold his gaze. A smile spreads across my face and I spit the blood out on his boots. He grinds his teeth as I take another step into his space.

"Don't ever put your f*****g hands on me again," I growl.

"Or what?" he scoffs. "You think you can take me, Pinky? Hmm? You caught me off guard last time but it's not going to happen again. Take your angry ass up to your room and stay there for the rest of the night,"

"I'm going out," I roll my eyes at him. He grabs my arm.

"No, you're not. You're going up to your room and you're staying there the rest of the night," he repeats.

"I'm really not," I pull my arm out of his hold. "Where is Espinosa?"

"You're not going to go see him," he shakes his head.

"Danny," Mom comes over to us. "Let her go,"

"If I have to drag your ass by your f*****g hair, I will," he warns me.

"Then f*****g do it," I shrug. When he reaches for me a gun is pointed at his face from behind me. He takes a step back when Remy steps forward. I am going to regret this but I am sick and tired of people telling me what to do. As if they know what's best for me.

"Danny, just let her go," Mom repeats.

"Is this how you want to play it?" he asks me. A loud high pitched sound begins to echo throughout the house when his reaper materializes behind him with a golden shotgun in her hands. All of the warmth in the room is stripped away. "I can give two f***s about how many people die if we clash, Belladonna. Do you hear that? That's the sound of death preparing to reap. The choice is yours,"

I stare at him and the darkness of his reaper. He's right. Even if I manage to pin him, a lot of people can die and I'm not okay with that. I raise my hand up and place it on Remy's forearm. She looks at me and lowers it but turns her attention to my father.

"I just want to be alone," I repeat my previous statement. "I don't need to talk to any of you,"

"Okay," he nods and moves away from the stairs.

The ringing from before fades and Remy disappears. My eyes move over to Ashley's. She's still crying. Something close to hate fills my chest and I want nothing more than to hit her. I know she can see it in my eyes because she takes a step back.

"This was all on you," I scoff.

"Now," Dad growls and shoves me toward the stairs. I go up the stairs and slam the door shut as hard as I can. "What did your mother say about slamming the f*****g doors, Belladonna?" I open the door and slam it again, two more times before I quickly lock it. "B.B.!"

I got over to my computer and bring up my workout playlist. I press play and the first song to blare out of the speakers all over the house is Pursuit of Violence by Sullivan King and Svdden Death. I turn it all the way up. It's so loud the bass of the song makes the walls vibrate.

"B.B. turn this s**t off!" he shouts. It takes him a while to find and disconnect all the speakers in the library and in the family room. From the other side of the restroom door, I can hear Delilah laughing.

"What was the f*****g point of that?" I ask and sit back down where I wanted to be all along anyway. The bathroom door opens and then shuts again.

"Do you have ice for your bong?" she asks.

"Lucien's ice maker is under the stack of my E.A.P. books. The ice bucket should be next to it," I nod. I get up and grab my bong from behind my desk. She brings the ice over and starts to drop ice cubes into it slowly.

"Why do you have an ice maker in here?" she asks.

"For Lucien," I laugh. She looks over at me and shrugs not understanding what Lucien would want with ice. "It's for s*x,"

"What?" she snorts. "How would you use ice for s*x? Do you have an ice dildo maker?"

"What? It's not for me. It's for him. I don't always feel the cold," I shrug and smile because the ice stuff is fun, especially after a big feed when his body is blazing hot. He's extra sensitive. This is a good distraction.

"You guys are so f*****g weird," she shakes her head. "You don't use the bucket for your weird s**t, do you?"

"What would we do with the bucket?"

"I don't know, b***h. I don't even know what you use the ice for," she sneers.

"Stop talking," I shake my head as I prepare a bowl.

"Disaterology," she says. I look up at her. "That's my favorite P.T.V. song,"

"That's cute," I admit and go over to my computer. I click my carefully curated emo song playlist named Nevermore. It's the first song on there because that's what I was listening to when I first thought of making the playlist. Disasterology is actually one of the least sad songs on here. At least, compared to La Dispute and Satan Couture.

"I'm sorry I made you hit me," she says as I put the flame over the bowl for her. The water bubbles and the chamber fills with smoke. I pull the bowl and she inhales most of it.

"I'm sorry I hit you. I can't believe that just happened," I admit. She laughs coughing out puffs of smoke. I'm serious. I'm still reeling over the fact that we all just snapped at one another that way.

"b***h, I didn't expect you to go off like that. I thought you were going to hit me one time and that's it. All of this would be over," she grins. I stand up and laugh at her as she crouches down to light up my bowl. I take in the smoke and hold it until I can't anymore. I release it and sit down next to her.

"It's like you don't know me at all," I shake my head. She laughs bumping me with her forearm.

"Check it out. We have matching busted lips," she points at her face.

"That's not funny," I grin wiping blood off my chin.

"It's a little funny. Why did you challenge Dad like that? f*****g i***t. You know how he is," she turns my face to examine my face.

"He slapped the f**k out of me," I admit not even wanting to touch the hot sting across my entire face.

His hands are huge and my face isn't. I know he held back but it hurt so much I was willing to attack him with everything I had for a moment. Now that it's over and I breathe again, I kind of needed it. I'll never admit it to him or anyone, but he slapped me out of David's memories. Yes, it hurts and I am pissed at myself for challenging Black Death the way I just did. But I feel better. A whole lot better.

"Dude," she laughs. "You're gonna have a sick ass bruise for a while," we stay quiet for a bit. "I am so happy that Carson wasn't here. He's gonna lose his s**t when he sees you. Where's the first aid kit?"

"By the Monster Highs," I point toward it. She gets up to get it. When I get my hands on a Crow, I should be fine. There is no way in hell I'm walking around like this for any amount of time after this.

"Show me," she kneels down in front of me. I hold my right hand out. She looks it over and laughs. "This is going to hurt, B. Ready?"

"Do it," I nod.

She positions her fingers over my middle knuckle and pushes them down until it pops back into place. I pull back from the pain. The sound of glass crashing follows from behind me. Her mouth falls open.

"Please, tell me that wasn't my bong," I cover my eyes.

"Oh, dude. We should have moved it," she laughs.

"Aww, man. I got that the day we first invited Ahsan to kill evil racists with us," I groan.

"Let me wrap your hand," she shakes her head.

"You better not be breaking s**t in there, Belladonna," Dad shouts from downstairs. The two of us cover our mouths to keep our laughter quiet.

"Bro, he still sounds mad as s**t," she says between laughs. The two of us clean up the glass once she wraps my hand all the way up to my wrist. Yeah, no way am I going to be walking around like this. "Ice it," she hands me a t-shirt with ice in it. I put it on the top of my hand. "B, I get that you're mad at Mom but you can't be talking to her like that. She's our mom,"

"You killed her in Purgatory,"

"Yeah, but I was in full beast mode down there. You're just being an asshole," she rolls her eyes.

"Shut up. You don't know my life," I get up to get us some juice bottles from my mini fridge. "She made me kill her. She chose death rather than suck it up and stay with me,"

"So did Dad," she shrugs. I hand her a mango pineapple juice. She takes it and drinks some.

"Dad did it for me and I don't exactly have a great relationship with him either. He also didn't put a gun in my hand and force me to blow his head off, now did he?"

"B.B.," she glares at me. "You don't have to forgive her. Just-" she sighs. "Just let it go. Please, for me? And I'll forgive the nasty black eye I'm going to have to sport for the next two weeks,"

"Not an even trade and that's your fault," I shake my head. "Have one of the Crows hit you,"

"None of them are down," she shakes her head. "How was I supposed to know you were going to go Miss Gorilla on me?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Delilah but you're a f*****g choad," I shove her playfully.

"So? Is that a yes?" she laughs putting an ice t-shirt on her face.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll behave,"

"Thank you," she grins. "I am high as s**t. You barely look fazed,"

"Do you consider yourself a hero or a villain?" I ask. She looks me over thinking about it.

"Mmm, I don't think I'm a villain but I also don't consider myself a hero. No one wants to be the hero,"

"What do you mean? Everyone wants to be Batman,"

"Yeah, because Batman is rich and it's funny when he beats the s**t out of people. The hero always dies. If I had to choose, villain. Worst case we end up in Arkham. Best case we conquer the world,"