Charles Smith x Reader

Forty-Eight

Your eyes dug into him, past flesh and bones all the way to see the man for what he truly was. A monster.

And deep down you knew that you were able to be like him as well. It would be so easy to turn his blade on himself, cut flesh and bones and make him bleed.

You could have been a monster. But something in you hesitated. Something in you refused to stomp down this deep.

"Ignorance infests the weak.", you spit at him.

Struck by surprise his head snapped to the side. Eyes narrowed he raised a hand to wipe the spit with the back of it.

"Close to death and yet no respect nor common sense.", he had to let out a deep huff. "I'd say I'm impressed. But this is just plain stupidity."

"I'm willing to die on my own terms. Even if it's through your hand, fucker."

A warning shimmer lit up in his eyes.

"Remember, I could make this way worse than it has to be.", he put some pressure on the blade.

A sharp breath escaped you we the first layer of skin broke and a thin strand of blood poured out. It felt wet yet warm. A rash contrast to the cold sweat that started to stick to your skin.

"Do you want to know how the savages felt when we took their children?", he asked and the grin on his face broadened. "They fought like we were the bad ones. But all we wanted to do was bring them education. Medicine!"

"You destroy everything they believe in!", you bit back.

"Spirits and ancestors?!"

"Same thing as believing in a book and a god!"

Again, the pressure increased on your throat. This time the lack of air made you choke. Pain burned through your flesh.

For a brief second you thought he'd cut your throat.

But that would have been too easy. No, he wanted to see you struggle now that you had ruined his chances to do the same to native children and women.

Blood wetted your entire neck now, ran down your shoulders and seeped into the hem of your shirt. It made you shiver, both in fear and the knowledge that you were just so close to the end.

Air burned along your throat with every breath. It got harder and harder to grasp a clear thought. All you wanted was to punch that stupid grin out of his face.

It was stupid, but in this moment you hated him more than Clark. A thing you could have sworn was impossible.

Clark.

This was all Clark's fault. If that stupid piece of garbage hadn't shown up you would still live in your cozy little cabin at the edge of the forest, close to where Aponi and her tribe spent the warmer days of the year.

It had been a good life.

But you wouldn't have been able to connect with Charles. You wouldn't have been able to love him the way you did. You wouldn't have felt the touch of his skin and wouldn't be able to see that soft smile of his whenever he was sure nobody was around.

The greatest things in your life would have been nothing but ifs.

Again. You would have done it all over again if it meant to be with Charles. You wanted to be with him. You wanted to go to Canada, find a place to live.

Suddenly everything in you felt heavy. Your limbs grew numb and darkness crept into the corners of your eyes. Breathing hurt.

Everything tasted of blood.

Despite all this, the beating of your heart slowed down. Adrenaline stopped flowing and the pressure of the situation set in.

Tired.

You were so endlessly tired.

Then, suddenly, pain cut through the dark and a scream made your chest vibrate. Your eyes wide open you tore your mouth open and gasped for air.

Pain. So much, endless pain. It chased up your shoulder, into the side of your head and down to numb your fingers. Your left arm trembled.

It felt like you were about to loose the limb.

A chuckle reached your ears while tears clouded your vision. Of course. He enjoyed this.

How cruel could a human be?

"F... Fuck!", you gasped as hot tears ran down the sides of your face.

Saliva filled your mouth. A bad sign. It announced vomit that wanted to escape your stomach, caused by the pain and the fact that this man on top of you was worse than your darkest nightmares.

Salt covered your lips. Iron filled your nose and drove insanity up your brain. Everything was foggy. Not a single clear thought filled your mind.

Everything spiralled down into darkness. You lost your grip on reality and for a brief moment it felt like there was nothing you could hold onto, nothing to gasp and creep yourself in the world of the living.

A stuttering breath made your throat go sore.

"N-no..!", your tongue was heavy as another sharp pain chased up your stomach.

Blood ran over your thigh. He had cut through your jeans. It wasn't deep but enough to make it feel like a flame burned on your (S/C) skin.

"Stay with me.", he chirped. "I'm not done yet."

You narrowed your eyes. Nails dug into dirt.

The world around fell silent. No more fighting, no more bloodshed. Just you and the darkness that embraced this face that hoovered above.

This would be the last thing you'd see. The very last sight you'd die with.

Your breathing hitched.

Charles.

Where was Charles?

You wanted to see Charles. If you needed to die, he should be the last thing you remembered. You wanted to remember.

With a shivering breath you tried to force your eyelids back open. Everything hurt. Your ears were ringing.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to it. You couldn't keep going.

Echoes of your own breath filled your ears. Only full words tried to reach out to your consciousness that slowly drifted away.

All of a sudden a shot rang out. It was so loud, so forceful that it tore you back to reality.

Something warm splattered all over your face.