Daughter of Blood and Nightmares

42: No One Said Ending Things Would Be Pretty

I'm a creature of habit. And I'm always bound to revert back to old habits. Stomping across the room, I drag out my shitty duffle bag and rummage for the demon blade. I knew right away that someone rummaged through my things, but only I know that in one of these corners is a small slit.

It takes a minute for me to find it with shaky fingers, but I snag some torn material and I know I finally found it. Not being nice about it and keeping the bag intact, I tear it open. The demon blade is hidden perfectly inside. Thank you Addison. If she wasn't in the shop with Rossi, I'd have returned this to her.

As I mold my fingers around the handle and stare into the slick metal, fear and anticipation etches into my bones. I've done this before, so I don't know why I'm nervous. Maybe I wasn't as desperate as I am now.

I have an unwavering determination unlike all those other times. It doesn't mean that I didn't wish for it each and every time, but this time failure is not an option. Time is running out and I won't let Draven win. They want a trade, they give him my dead body.

I bring the tip to the inside of my wrist, catching a glimpse of The Order's tattoo inked into my skin. I'm nothing to them and if they knew what I really am, they wouldn't protect me.

The sting of the knife dragging along my arm, straight up the middle, hurts like hell at first, but it quickly fades away the further I dig. A one inch cut doesn't hurt any more than a seven inch cut. Blood quickly seeps from the wound, thick streams fall from around my arm, pooling off my fingers. I switch hands, I mean it this time.

I wonder if Seraphina is watching me now. Addison will be disappointed, but she'll forgive me. Only if only my mother could see me now. She's walked in on several botched suicide attempts. Always trying to benefit from them while saying condescending words. 'You don't have it in you.' 'You enjoy the misery.' 'You're too much like your father.' I never understood that last one until now. But I refuse to be anything like my father.

I bring the point of the knife to my untouched wrist. The handle slips in my grasp as blood continues to flow freely. I push through the wooziness, the room seems to shift under my feet. It takes everything in me to stay standing, to find my footing and not pass out before I finish the job.

I don't even hear the door open, the heavy footfalls that rush across the room. But his franic words, his angry demand is crystal clear. "Ashton...put the knife down." Carden stands several feet in front of me, too scared to move closer.

I smash my lips together in a tight line and firmly shake my head refusing. I start to drag the knife further up my arm. An inch, two inches.

He lurches forward. "Where did you get the demon blade? Oliver looked through your things and didn't find anything." He hisses.

A manic chuckle seeps from my lips quicker than my blood that pools from my wounds. "Secret pocket" More crazy laughter follows. "I'm glad you realize that I'm a risk, but it's a little too late now." I'm not sure if it's sad or pathetic that they are just coming to realize this now.

"Don't do this, Ashton." He pleads with me and I have no idea why. What am I to him? An innocent life he couldn't save? I'm sure his angelic grace won't be tarnished by me offing myself.

I'm doing them a favor. This way no one get the nightmare girl. Problem solved. If only he can see that.

"Stop." I shout at him as he takes a couple of steps forward. "Whatever this is," I pull back the knife tip from my flesh to wave it in the air between us, "it doesn't mean anything. I'm done with all of it. This is my decision, my first genuine decision since I've been dragged here." A shaky breath rattles my lungs and jitters my fingers.