her hollow heart

chapter 11: two can keep a secret if one of them is dead

Lucy's POV:

As I walked past the cells, my footsteps echoed in the eerie silence, each step heavier than the last. The stench of decay clung to the air, reminding me of how long this place had been abandoned. My eyes darted from one cell to another, searching for anything useful—anything that might help us survive. Then, I heard it. A low voice, barely more than a mutter, carried from further down the corridor.

Kasper.

I slowed my pace, curiosity pulling me toward the sound. He was talking to himself, or so it seemed. "Fucking Dylan... coming in randomly and taking Lucy... I'll kill him." His voice was venomous, dripping with a dangerous promise.

I froze.

For a moment, I considered confronting him, demanding to know what he meant. But something held me back, a feeling I couldn't quite place. Instead, I quietly backed away, my pulse quickening as his words sunk in. I needed time to think, time to process. Whatever Kasper and I had—whatever we shared—it was complicated, tangled in layers that neither of us had fully acknowledged. Not even to ourselves.

I forced myself to continue searching the cells, keeping my mind focused. But all I found was a half-dead flashlight. Useless. Still, I tightened my grip on it, the cold metal grounding me as I walked further down the corridor, every nerve in my body on high alert. Kasper's threat echoed in my mind, twisting into something darker, something more personal. He wouldn't actually kill Dylan... would he?

But then, I heard it—a soft click, followed by a muffled struggle.

My stomach dropped.

I moved quickly but cautiously, creeping closer to the source of the noise. My pulse roared in my ears as I rounded the corner. And there they were. Dylan, pinned against the cold concrete wall, his face surprisingly calm. Kasper stood before him, a twisted grin on his lips, his hand gripping a knife. Its blade shimmered under the dim, flickering light.

"You think you can just take her from me?" Kasper hissed, his voice a venomous whisper. "That she'd choose you? You don't know her, Dylan. Not like I do."

The flashlight felt weightless in my hand as I surged forward without thinking. Before Kasper could react, I swung it with all my strength, feeling the dull crunch of impact as it connected with the side of his skull. He staggered, his knife slipping from his grip and clattering to the ground.

"Get away from him!" I shouted, my voice raw with anger. Kasper turned to face me, blood seeping from the wound I'd just inflicted. He touched the side of his head, then looked at the blood on his fingers, a sick smile still on his lips.

"You always were impulsive, Lucy," he said, his voice unsettlingly calm. "But this? You're making a mistake."

I gritted my teeth, my gaze flicking from Kasper to the knife on the floor. His eyes followed mine, and for a split second, neither of us moved. But I couldn't let him hurt Dylan—not now. Not ever.

In a blur of motion, I dove for the knife, my fingers closing around the hilt. Before Kasper could react, I was on him, the blade sinking deep into his abdomen. He gasped, a look of shock flashing across his face as he stumbled backward. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. With a primal scream, I pushed him to the ground, straddling him as I drove the knife into him again, and again, and again.

Blood sprayed across my hands, hot and sticky, but I didn't care. My vision narrowed, my rage taking over as each thrust of the blade felt like some twisted release of everything I'd bottled up for so long. Kasper's body jerked beneath me, his eyes wide, his lips moving as if trying to form words. But no sound came out. He was dying, and I—*I* was killing him.

"Lucy, stop!" Dylan's voice broke through the fog in my mind, sharp and desperate. "He's dead! He's dead!"

I froze, the knife still raised above my head, blood dripping from the tip. Kasper's body was limp beneath me, his chest a grotesque ruin. Slowly, I lowered the blade, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in my chest. What had I done?

Dylan approached cautiously, his face pale, his hands trembling as he reached for me. "Lucy," he said gently, kneeling beside me. "It's over. He's gone."

I looked down at my blood-soaked hands, a nauseating realization settling in. Kasper was dead. And it wasn't just that I'd killed him—it was *how* I'd killed him. The sheer brutality of it. I could still feel the weight of our history hanging between us, a secret I'd never speak aloud, a connection that neither of us had ever fully understood.

Something twisted deep inside me, something dark and ugly that I couldn't shake. But I shoved it down, locked it away. I had to. Now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"I'm... sorry," I whispered, my voice shaking as I dropped the knife. It clattered against the concrete, the sound echoing through the empty halls.

Dylan pulled me to my feet, his grip firm but gentle. "We need to go, Lucy. We can't stay here."

I nodded, my legs weak beneath me, my mind still reeling from the violent storm that had passed through me. We walked in silence, leaving the carnage behind, but I knew I'd never truly escape it. There were things between me and Kasper—things I'd never understand.

And now, they'd die with him.