The only man that’s ever been like a father to me is dead, and I’m about to witness his last breath. I’m about to see the life drain from his face, and no matter how much of a brave face I’m putting on — I know I’m not ready. I’ll never be truly ready for this. I’m nauseous and my whole body starts trembling. A knot forms in my throat, there’s nothing I can do to prevent it from suffocating me, because right now, even breathing is difficult.
The man that enters Hudson’s cell is wearing all black. His back is facing the camera, and I can’t even see who it is. More importantly, since we can’t see his face, Jewel won’t be able to read his lips. However, the short girl still leans a little more in, eyes narrowed in concentration.
“What do you want?” Jewel says, her eyes glued to Hudson’s lips. It’s not her talking — it’s her reading his last, dying words. “How did you even get in here?”
Oh, God.
Hudson’s not on alert at all. His body is relaxed, his entire demeanor unbothered. Whoever this is, Hudson trusts them.He knows them. He knows the man that viciously took his life.
“You’re being odd,” Jewel says, her voice dropping an octave. “That means you’re either here to deliver some terrible news, or you’re here to kill me. However, given that you’re not someone that would ever be entrusted with any sort of news to deliver, I’d say you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”
My heart is pumping so rapidly against my chest that I find myself getting dizzy. I’m either going to pass out, or get a heart attack, there’s no in between.
Hudson’s still not on alert. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, staring down at the man in front of him. His face is passive, and all in me is screaming for him to snap out of it; to see the danger for what it truly is. Yet, it’s useless. He’s already dead, and I’m witnessing his last moments.
The man takes a step forward, and whisks out a knife. His hand is gloved, gripping the steel handle of the sharp blade in his hands tightly. Hudson’s eyes slowly flick down to it, then he lifts an amused eyebrow.
“Oh, are you going to kill me, truly?” Jewel says, and at this point, I’m the one reading Hudson’s lips, too. I can practically smell the confidence and the arrogance in Hudson’s voice, and it fucking irks me. If he’d been more on alert, none of this would’ve happened.
“Go ahead. Try to kill me. You’re only going to get one chance. If you fail, I’ll not just kill you, but I’ll torture you until you’re begging me to die with your last, dying pathetic breath. You’ll know that the man who sent you to an early grave, is none other than the man you swore to serve.”
Fuck.
The anxiety, mixed with adrenaline slowly starts bubbling in my veins. My palms grow cold, then sweaty, and I’m frozen in my spot. Paralyzed, almost, and the sheer amount of anger that’s inside of me is not normal. I’m so angry at Hudson for not seeing the threat that quite literally stood in front of him. I’m angry at the man who dared to take Hudson out of my life, in one of the most brutal and terrible ways possible. I’m angry at myself,because on some level, everything circles back to me. In the end, everything is my fault. Everything is always my fault.
I suck in a sharp intake of breath when the man strikes. Hudson isn’t even moving. He’s standing there, completely still, awaiting for his inevitable doom. His body is still fucking relaxed, and it’s one of the most irking things.
The man strikes once, piercing the knife right below Hudson’s chest. A gush of blood immediately starts flowing out of the wound when the knife is pulled out, and yet, Hudson’s face remains unchanged.
There’s no pain, no sorrow, no regret — just the pure, deadly arrogance that cost him his life.
The man attacks again, and he angles his body in such a way that I cannot see the next spot on Hudson’s body being stabbed. I’m unsure whether it’s his chest, stomach, or even throat. All I’m seeing is his hand moving back and forth, as he whisks out the knife, then plunges it back into his body.
“Fucking hell,” Lucas mutters under his breath.
Niko’s not doing much better, either. His eyes are growing darker and darker with each passing moment, and whether it’s anger at the attacker or Hudson for simply taking it, and deciding to die then and there, I can’t tell.
Niko’s hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white from the force. His body is shaking, his pupils dilating, and he reeks of murderous intent. He’s going to go on a killing spree after this, and no one is going to make it out alive.
Noelle is the star of the Campbell family, for sure. She’s the one who pulled all the strings, and she’s the one people are terrified of. However, I’ve heard stories about Niko, too. He’s notthe one to be taken lightly, and although he doesn’t participate as actively in the family business, he’s still a crazy killer, born and raised to take life. When that’s mixed with anger, nothing good can come out of it.
Lucas grabs Niko’s hand, trying to calm his husband down. It’s not working, because Niko is seeing red. I admire the loyalty that runs deeply in this family, and it’s a blessing to be a part of it, to be one of them.
My eyes flick back to the screen, and Hudson’s down. He’s lying on the cold, stone floor of his prison cell, eyes glued directly to the camera. His torso is filled with blood, the inmate uniform coated in multiple shades of crimson. I can’t even count the amount of wounds he has, since I can’t see anything from the sheer amount of blood.
The man looms over his body, covering Hudson’s face with his body for a brief moment. However, he doesn’t land the finishing blow. Instead, he pulls the hood of his black jacket to further cover his face, and exits the cell without so much as looking back at Hudson.
Like he’s some sort of dirt under his shoes, as if his life wasn’t worthy.
Then, Hudson’s mouth opens. He says something, and it’s clear that he’s in agony. The words are silent, as there’s no sound coming from the audio, but the moment he stops speaking, Jewel gasps audibly.
Her eyes widen in terror, hand covering her mouth. The disbelief is evident on her face, and she’s not looking at anyone except on Hudson’s lying body. It looks like the two are looking at each other through the camera lense, having a secret conversation.
“What is it, Jewel?”
I surprise myself with the amount of tranquility in my voice. Jewel slowly turns to look at me, her voice barely above a whisper. It’s weird seeing her like this. She’s always bubbly, full of life and overflowing with confidence. Yet, right now, she’s a scared girl, too terrified to make her voice heard.
“He said a name,” she whispers.
