PROJECT MORTUUS : Love's End

Chapter 18: No Tears Left

Peter groggily woke up to the sound of Maria's alarm clock. He looked at it—8:23 AM. 

He clicked the button on the alarm and stood up while rubbing his eyes. It was a lovely morning, and Maria had already woken up. She was sitting on a bean bag, reading quietly—something she often did in the morning. 

"Why didn't you just wake me up, Vee?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed and stretched. 

"You looked so cute while sleeping," Maria said with a chuckle, not looking up from her book. Whatever the book was, she was very invested in it. 

"I've gotta head to work. Should I drop you off?" Peter asked her as he picked up his hoodie and put it on. 

Maria shook her head. "I'm not working today. The café is closed." 

Peter nodded and kissed her cheek before heading out. "Love you, Vee." 

Maria nodded, too invested in her book to give an actual response. "Mhm mhm." 

Peter chuckled and began walking to the lumber yard. She was sometimes a bookworm, and he loved that about her. She would get so imbued in a book that she would just completely forget about the world around her. 

Peter entered the lumberyard, waving to Mr. Marsh as he picked up his axe. He just wanted to get work over with so he could spend more time with Maria. Peter went out to the woods and began chopping. 

Peter looked up from a pile of nicely chopped logs. He wasn't sure how long he had been working but knew it was a while because he was alone. 

Peter checked his watch, the hands on its clockface pointing to the time: 4:13 PM. It was already quitting time. It didn't feel like it had been that long, but maybe because he had been daydreaming about Maria the entire time, he hadn't noticed. 

He picked up the logs and carried them to the side of the mill with the rest. He tossed them on the pile and grabbed his axe to put it away. It didn't take very long, but every minute without Maria felt like an eternity. 

After he put it away, Peter went to the locker and grabbed his things. "I can't wait to spend time with Maria this weekend." He smiled and spoke to himself in the mirror as he corrected his hair.

Peter felt uneasy as he neared Maria's house as if something was off, and it was very fitting to feel that way. As he heard a gun going off in the distance, he began to run faster than he'd ever run before in his entire life. He held his breath, hoping she was okay, praying to God in his head that it wasn't what he feared. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what had happened. There lay Maria in a pool of her own blood on her front porch step. The redness soaked the hoodie she was wearing. She was wearing her glasses, too, which meant she was probably reading just moments before. 

Peter screamed her name as he ran to her side, holding her loosely in his arms. "DON'T LEAVE ME!! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME!!" He sobbed, tears welling up. 

Peter screamed out loud as he could. "SOMEONE CALL 911!! SOMEBODY HELP!! PLEASE!!" He begged and cried while holding her close. He never regretted not having a phone before, but now he desperately wished he had one. 

Maria looked at him and smiled slightly as her head began to get foggy, a sharp pain stabbing her stomach where the bullet had hit. "Pete... er-" Maria uttered, her delicate hand brushing against Peter's cheek as it fell limp. 

He pulled her close, holding her to his chest as he cried. The blood soaking her hoodie dripped onto his shirt, but he was too distraught to care. "Please, Maria. I... I can't lose you..." He cradled her limp body as he cried. He knew she was gone, but he couldn't accept it. 

She couldn't be dead. Not Maria. Not his last true happiness. "Please, Maria... I can't go on without you..." 

Rain slowly began to fall, the blood around them washing away, but the mark of it was evident. He sat there on his knees, crying and holding in desperation. His tears fell, and with them poured the rain. Rain pattered against them in slow, solemness-like tears. 

It was as though the world knew what despair had happened. As though it knew that a heart of pure love had shattered into a thousand pieces, that a once unbreakable love had broken. He knew that the Ventura gang had done this by the way she had been shot. A single bullet to the stomach, leaving her to bleed out. 

They had taken everything from him, but this was the last straw. They had finally taken the one thing he truly loved. His miracle was gone, and with it, all his hope. 

"How can there be a God if he would let an angel like this die?" He thought his vision was practically gone from all the tears. The world around Peter slowed into nothingness. Not even the paramedics could snap him out of it. It was only him and the lifeless body of his love. 

Peter just sat in the back of the paramedics, tears streaming down. No one said a word. Not that any comments could change it. 

He'd still be there, and her blood would still be on his shirt, and worst of all, she would still be dead. He stared down at his feet, his tears staining his shoes. The pendant Maria got him hung loosely in his fingers as he stared down at it. 

He closed his eyes, trying to shut everything out, hoping that maybe he'd wake up beside Maria. But each time he opened his eyes, all he saw was her blood-soaked body. This wasn't just a hell; this was something worse than hell. 

A tragedy like this was the devil himself.