Falling For The Opponent

Chapter 17

Marie's p.o.v:

 The next morning, I wake up to find that Carter has disappeared. I also realize that I'm not in his room, but in a moldy old basement. Chains are around my wrists, and my clothes are bathed in blood and sweat. "Carter?," I call out frightenedly. "Carter!" Suddenly, a figure appears out of the darkness.

 The person that appears is tall and broad. They are also hidden by a grey cloak, leaving me unable to distinguish their facial features. Or anything else about them for that matter. "Who are you?," I yell at the person, "and where am I?'' 

 "The question is not who I am," the person said. "It's what I am." The person draws back their hood, revealing the face of Carter. Only it isn't Carter. This Carter has black pits for eyes and a white, scarred face. Black liquid drips from the monster's eye sockets. 

 "W-what are you?," I stuttered frightenedly. The creature flashes me a wry smile, making me shudder.

 "Nothing important," the figment says. "I'm nothing more than what you really see when you look at your beloved Carter.'' I shake my head quickly.

 "You're wrong,'' I scream. "I love Carter! You're nothing more than a figment of my imagination!' When I say that, the pale figure lets out an ear piercing screech, and black vines erupted from it's body. I watch as the figure's cloak falls, and the image inside of it fades into nonexistence.

Carter's p.o.v:

 I awake to find myself in a white, padded room. My body is bound by white wrappings, as if my body is covered in a large white bandage. When I see the door in front of me, which is completely white with a small, barred up window, I realize where I am. An insane asylum. Out of instinct, I call out for Marie. "Marie! Marie!" After about ten minutes of this, a man walks in.

 The man is wearing a black business suit and glasses. He wears a red tie and has short, bristly brown hair. His face is dusted with a light layer of freckles. The man looks at me with a questioning glance. "Why are you calling out for that girl?," the man asks. "She is dead, remember?"

 "Dead?," I ask. "What do you mean? What happened?" The man's head jerks back, a look of appalling and shock on his face.

 "What do you mean, 'What happened?!'," the man asks, his voice high-pitched in surprise. "You must truly be insane if you don't remember killing your own fiancé." I look at the man as if he just slapped me with a belt.

 "I did what ?!," I ask. Then I pause, then say, ''she was my what ?!'' The man shakes his head at me. I just keep staring at him, my mouth hanging open. "Please," I say softly, "please tell me I didn't really do that." The man bows his head, then looks back up at me and takes a deep breath.

 "The court has given you two choices," the man says. "You can either live out the rest of your days here, or. . .choose the electric chair."

 "Electric chair," I say with no hesitation. The man looks at me in shock. "If I really did that to the girl I love, then I can pay the price for what I've done," I say. The man shrugs.

 "If you say so," he says. As he walks away I hear him mutter, "personally I would've chosen to live." He walks out the door, slamming the door shut behind him. As soon as the man's gone, the room around me changes. It becomes dark and smelly, and the bandages around me disappear, only to be replaced with me sitting on a cold metal chair, my hands and feet bound by metal straps. I look up in shock as I hear a shrill, girlish scream.

 The man from before is standing across the room, a big, evil smile plastered on his face. Standing behind him is Marie, who is reaching out towards me from behind the man, crying hysterically. "Carter!," Marie screams. "Carter!" Overcome with shock at seeing her alive, I stare at her, mouth gaping. Finally, I respond to her.

 "Marie!,'' I yell, trying to free myself of the chair. "Marie!" The man smiles wryly at me.

 "Thank you for returning my daughter to me, Mr. Allan," the man says. "Now say goodbye." The last thing I heard was my name leave her perfect lips. The last thing I saw was her white T-shirt and dark blue skinny jeans.  The last thing I saw was Marie. My competitor. . .

and my smart, beautiful girlfriend.