fallen hero | matthew fairchild

chapter 15 | make me

The sense of abject horror filled the room.

It crawled across Matthew's skin and down his spine. 

There was a stillness to the room. It was as if someone moved, the sight before them would be a reality.

Hero only moved to wipe the tears streaming down her face. Her dark curls tumbled to curtain her features away from everyone. Her breath was harsh, the rasping was the only sound in the room.

It was like time had stopped.

She looked like a painting. 

Matthew was on the other side of the ashes. 

The ashes that had once been Sam's body. 

His stomach churned at the thought. One moment he had been there, and the next...

His brain couldn't fathom the thought. 

Did Hero use her powers to burn him from the inside out?

"How did you do that?" George asked. His blue eyes bore into Hero's arm. 

Hero didn't answer the question. She just slowly peered down at the front of her dress and said, "It's ruined."

A look of disgust passed through George's features. 

George turned to look at Pistol, who was focused on a worried look at Hero. 

"How did you let this happen?" he asked with a tone of accusation. 

Pistol looked speechless. 

It was at this moment Pistol looked his age. His dark skin wasn't lined with wrinkles, but his eyes aged him by decades.

But in reality, he was a new man barely older than Matthew. 

His lost expression disappeared from Pistol's face as quickly as it had appeared. 

"John, accompany Hero to the sanctuary," he said firmly.

Matthew's head snapped to the older gentleman. "Why?"

Pistol's dark eyes met his.

But instead of responding to Matthew's question, he repeated,  "John."

His tone was rough enough for John to step forward and touch Hero.

Immediately, she straightened quickly. Her sudden movement caused everyone except for Matthew to flinch.

The reaction broke Hero's trance. It was like the fogginess of her eyes had cleared slightly.

"Come with me," John said quietly. 

She nodded and allowed herself to be moved out of the room. Matthew followed her every movement as she left the room. 

George looked like he had more to say, but Pistol cut in again. 

"Virginia and Estella, send word out to the Silent Brothers."

The girls nodded and scurried out of the room.

The tension in the room was akin to the discomfort of standing in a wool coat in high humidity. 

George whirled to look at Pistol. "What the hell is going on here?"

"One of our residents didn't disclose every detail about her life," Pistol deadpanned. 

"Florence was right," George scoffed, "she said the New York Institute was going to shit under your leadership."

"You do know that all Institutes have issues, right?" asked Matthew. 

George fumed. "What would you know, Consul's boy?"