The Labyrinth

CHAPTER FOUR (Lukas's POV)

The guards rush into the crowd, shoving people out of the way, brandishing their batons at them, telling them to go home. The crowd doesn’t want to leave us to our fate, but eventually, they all leave. Everyone but Aunt Phoebe. She stands protectively in front of us, defiance clear in her face.

She turns to us, tears in her eyes. Actual tears. I almost slap myself just to see if they're real. “I love you two. You’re my everything, and you always will be. I’m so sorry this had to happen.”

When she said that, I thought I saw her steal the slightest glare at me. I deserved more than a glare. Because of my irresponsibility, Brynne’s life was now as good as gone. That was all because of me.

A hand falls on my aunt’s shoulder. “Ma’am, it’s time to go.”

Aunt Phoebe knocks the man’s hand off and pulls both of us in for a hug. A big, tight bear hug, which is not like her at all. The guard stands awkwardly behind her, and after a few minutes of her not letting up, he taps her on the shoulder.

“Er… Ma’am?”

Silence.

The guard clears his throat. “It’s time to go. Now.”

My aunt squeezes us tighter. I feel my shoulder getting moist and hot. Is she… Crying? I didn’t think that was possible for Aunt Phoebe.

The man sighs irritably and looks back at the other guards, probably unsure of what to do.

Aunt Phoebe finally lets go of us. I whisper a goodbye to her, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. Her eyes are filled with tears. Softly, and in a shaky voice, she finally speaks. “No.” I hear something in her voice that scares me. It is her defiance, her anger, her love. I tell myself that she will leave, that her life will go back to normal, but in my heart, I know the truth: she has already decided, and she won’t go back. She repeats herself, her voice wavering, but strong.

A guard steps forward, and I can tell that’s he’s the leader of their little group. “Excuse me?” he asks. “I’ll give you one last chance; go home or we will make you.”

Aunt Phoebe looks at him calmly. “I won’t leave. You can kill me, but I will not leave my children.” She looks at me, and I see love in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” is the last thing she ever says.

The head soldier walks up to Aunt Phoebe and puts his sword under her chin, lifting it up so she has to face him. “You want to die, huh?” he asks, his face a sneer.

“I will not leave my children,” Aunt Phoebe says quietly. “That is my final decision.” Those words melt my heart. She considered us her own. We didn’t have parents, but we had her, and that was always enough.

The soldier grins. “Well, then, see you on the other side!” he exclaims, waving at her. Then, he lowers his sword until it is level with Aunt Phoebe’s chest, and stabs her through the heart.

*    *    *

Someone screams; I don’t know if it is Brynne or me. All I do is stand there, too shocked to move, while the world seems to slow down. I see Bry rush toward Aunt Phoebe, while I stand there with pools of tears welling up in my eyes. Blood is pouring out of Aunt Phoebe’s chest. After one look at her, I know she’s already gone. Her eyes are glazed over and empty. I send her a silent prayer, hoping that Hades will deem her a good soul and send her to Elysium. Looking back at Bry, I see three soldiers grabbing her, not even allowing her to get to Aunt Phoebe. Bry is struggling, but the soldiers finally overpower her. Her body goes limp, and she just stares back at her aunt. The soldiers drag her away, tears streaming down my sister’s cheeks, into the back of a cart that had arrived while we were fighting.

Another guard comes up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

I tense. That voice. The voice with the sword, the man who killed her. Anger shoots through my veins. What right did he have to stab her? He didn’t. I turn around to face him, tears no longer stinging my eyes.

“What the hell is your problem!”

He looks taken aback for a second, then clears his throat. “You have to understand, Luke--”

“Stay away from me,” I hiss. “You killed her. You should go to hell!”

The guard tenses for a moment, then his face turns cold. He yanks my arm, hard, no longer trying to be gentle. “You’re coming with us, whether you like it or not.”

I pull back, shaking his hand off, and turn towards him. Seeing his face doesn’t help my anger. Unable to control it any longer, I pull back and punch him. I feel something crack under my knuckles, and hear it, too. Blood streams out of his nose. The man groans and doubles over, grabbing his nose to try and stop the bleeding. I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment and glee. But that doesn’t give back my aunt’s life, and her death is all his fault. Doubled over with his guard down, I kick his stomach as hard as I can. He winces and wheezes, and I know that I should probably stop now, but the thought of him stabbing Aunt Phoebe keeps nagging at my train of thought.

Down on the ground now, I get on top of his chest and start repeatedly punching him. His face is a bloody mess, but my aunt is still dead, so I don’t stop. At the back of my mind, I know that this won’t bring her back, but it makes me feel better. Two guards are now on both of my arms, attempting to pull me off. But I don’t stop. Finally, though, a third guard pulls me off with great force, then tosses me to the ground.

The guard goes to help up the other man, handing him a handkerchief to clean himself up. Now looking at him clearly, I realize the man who pulled me off was also the guard who I had run into yesterday. I’d seen him around before then, he seemed like a good guy. You’d think he’d know whether to trust a killer or not. There was no reason for that stabbing, it was completely uncalled for. The bastard!

Numbness fills my heart as I stare back at my aunt’s probably now cold body. She said we were her children. She’d risk her life to keep us from going into that maze. The cold truth hits me. I killed her! It’s all my fault we're going into that maze in the first place. If I hadn’t gone to that party and overslept, everyone would probably be okay. Aunt Phoebe wouldn’t have tried to protect us, and she’d still be okay. She’d still be alive. This is all my fault.

Another guard pulls me up from the ground and starts dragging me towards the cart. I don’t fight or struggle, I just lay there limp in his arms, staring back at my aunt. Thinking that I’ll never see her again, and how it’s all because of me.