“Vincent.” Her voice broke. She looked startled. I couldn’t understand why. We both wished for this to end, and it will, but perhaps not in her fashion of choice.
The castle door creaked as she entered, “Vincent!” she called. Looking up the stairs in the open foyer she called again. “Vincent?”
She checked the sitting room looking for him, wandering in and out and closing doors while asking for Vincent. She finally went to the stairs “VINCENT!” she yelled. “I know you’re here!” she informed.
With a huff she began her trudge up the winding marble stairs. I know why she’s here. She’s here to finish it. Trying to finish what she had started 3 years ago.
I could hear her shoes scuffing from the marble to the Indonesian rug, which they had received for as a gift 10 years before now, thinking back to that made me grip the blade in my hand, digging it into my own skin.
“Vincent, I know you don’t want anything to do with this, but we have to finish this tonight. Mavus and I are leaving for Boston in the morning and I don’t want to try and divorce you through the phone.” She complained as she opened the door to Vincent’s bedroom, finding nothing but papers thrown about, liquor bottles here and there, and the type writer tossed in a corner. She closed the door quietly and hesitantly made her way towards the study, her shoes tapping on the floors as she cautiously walked.
“Vincent?” she spoke with worry in her shaking voice. “Come now, I’m not in the mood for your silly antics.” She tried to warn him, standing outside the study door. “Vincent.” She spoke more sternly. “Vincent. Answer me. I know you’re in there.”
He didn’t answer.
She griped the study door and opened it with a strong pull.
“VINCENT!” she yelled as the door hit the other side. She stood in the door way, her eyes immediately drawn toward the small lamp by my side.
“I’m sorry madam.” I spoke, interrupting her sentence. Her eyes fixed on my shadowy figure next to the lamp. I leaned into the light, my hat tipped over hiding my face. “But am afraid Vincent Mallone isn’t in this evening.”
“I beg your pardon?” She asked me, looking startled, raising her hand from her side to fiddle with the necklace around her neck, giving me a clear view of the ring around her finger.
“Yes, I’m sorry to say Mr. Mallone isn’t here, but he will be arriving back home tomorrow morning.” I said giving her a reassuring smile.
“What are you saying?” She stood bemused in the doorway. “You’re sitting right there and why are you speaking like that?” She inquired slowly stepping out into the hall. I rose from my seat by the lamp making my way to her, hiding the blade behind my back casually.
“Vincent.” Her voice broke. She looked startled. I couldn’t understand why. We both wished for this to end, and it will, but perhaps not in her fashion of choice. “Allow me to escort you outside.” I said raising the blade into her line of vision. With a shriek she fled to the stairs slipping on the marble, ‘causing her to fall to the bottom.
I looked over the railing only to see her dragging herself toward the large doors, attempting to escape. I briskly walked down the stairs towards her, her wails and sobs louder as I approached. I grabbed her shirt and dragged her across the foyer and through sets of doors until we reached our destination.
I opened the doors to the grounds behind the large home. Her screaming sobs echoed through the late night. I dragged her weeping body through the woods. When we reached a large grave, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon in the far distance.
Like static, her voice was incomprehensible, begging falling on deaf ears as I tied her hands and lifted her into the coffin laid out just for her.
“I’m sorry madam, but this is where you take your leave now.” I said gripping her jaw in my hand, holding the silver blade ready in my other hand. Tears streamed down her face and her body shook as I turned her face away from me and I brought the knife up to her neck.
“P-p-please.” She wept, eyes shut tight. She knew this was the end, she knew everything will be finished soon.
With the knife raised and eyes fixed on her porcelain neck, I whispered my own very last.