Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain

Warnings: Language, cannibalism, forced cannibalism, violence
This chapter is pretty heavy, just giving y'all a fair warning.

Sleep didn't come easy for Ronnie that night. The echo of the shotgun and that man's eyes came for her each time she shut her own. How could she sleep with such guilt weighing heavy on her head? She wondered if he was still down there in that chair unmoving, stiff, or worse. She wondered if they'd taken him to the basement where she should have ended up when she first passed through the front door. He had taken her place. She knew nothing of him, but their stories had been the same. He had taken the same road she had, he was going somewhere, only he ran into her, not Thomas. Ronnie had been the one who led him right into their trap, she had played into their game, whether she meant to or not. Only, unlike Ronnie, maybe he had a family, a wife who would wake tomorrow and the days that followed to an empty space beside her. Those eyes she kept seeing belonged to someone's son, brother, husband, father and his blood was on her hands. She may not have pulled the trigger, but she put him in front of the gun. She put him face to face with death because she wanted to live and he paid the price.

She sat up and peered over the edge of the bed to see Thomas was fast asleep. She had given up on getting any of her own at that point, so she quietly let her bare feet fall to the floor. She kept a close eye on him as she silently turned the doorknob. Once the door was opened, she stuck her head out to make sure the rest of the family was asleep. The silence that hung about the old house reassured her that they were, so she crept down the stairs. Her body felt heavy as fear weighed down each step she took towards the dining room. She had to see if they'd left him in that chair. As she rounded the corner she saw it was empty in its spot at the head of the table. The moonlight from the windows made the blood stains he'd left behind just barely visible. She made her way over to it and let her hand rest on the wood. Luda had done her best to clean the blood, but she could see where it had sunk in deep to leave a reminder of what they'd done. Of what Ronnie had done. Had she just accepted her fate, he wouldn't have met his here. He would never have had that look on his face. She had never seen such terror in someone's eyes before as he begged death himself for mercy. It sent a chill racing through her bones because in watching his death, she feared she saw her own. She not only saw it in the stranger's eyes, she saw it in Hoyt's. That man was just a placeholder for who he really wanted to shoot. His blood would satisfy death for now, but it was her's he'd aimed to spill. She had taken Thomas' loyalty for her own without even knowing it and she knew sooner or later she would pay for it.

She heard the floorboards creak behind her and she held her breath until she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. She let out a ragged sigh as she tried to tear her eyes away from the empty chair.

"I couldn't sleep," she whispered.

He knew she couldn't, he hadn't expected her to. Death was a way of life here, but he remembered well what it took from him the first time he'd seen it up close. After so much, he'd been left almost numb to it, but the cuts it left were deep. His had long since scarred over, as would her's with time, but the scars would remain until they both met their own end.

She turned to face him, "Will I ever?"

Sleep would find her again, but not easily, not for sometime. He could see she was in desperate need of it, though. He gave her a nod before he took her hand in his to lead her back upstairs. She reluctantly let him pull her away from the table. Just before they reached the bottom of the stairs her eyes landed on the basement door. She felt sick just looking at it. She knew he was down there, she could feel it. Thomas felt her stop and turned to catch her staring at the metal door. He felt a pit in his stomach the longer her eyes lingered there. He knew he couldn't hide it from her forever, but seeing what was down there, especially that night, would break her in ways she wasn't ready for. No, she was too fragile in that moment. Any forgiveness she might find for him would die down there. He squeezed her hand and she turned to face him. He shook his head at her and silently begged her to tame that growing curiosity within her. Ronnie was frightened enough to ignore her desire for further knowledge for now, but her eyes kept wandering in its direction the whole walk up the stairs.