Hell Himself

To be, or not to be, that is the question.

As the axe hits my skin, I feel a sting shoot around my body, as if sparkling sharper than a star. Being so caught up in my pain, I couldn't even acknowledge the fact that Nate was slamming down a box of tools on the old, beat-up, wooden table that was pushed to the side.

I struggled against the ties on my hands and feet, screaming a loud shout of terror. Blood poured quicker than a rushing river, coating the grey floor and staining it a deep red.

A malicious chuckle echoed behind me, followed by a threatening rasp. "Oh, how tragic. This is it, Ameri." He breathes heavier than stones, "This is how your God awful life desires to end."

Out of everything that I'd been through, I never once imagined that what could be the truth would fear me more than anything. A helpless sigh left my throat, choking on my uncomfortable tears.

I looked sorrowfully at him. "Nate, please..." I weakly whispered in a plea, "Don't do this to me. I've done nothing to you."

"Nothing?" He answered within a second. "I know. I'm a man of war, pain, and rebellion. What else am I gonna do with a weak damsel such as yourself?" A sadistic smile crept upon his lips. He ran the blade of his axe along my jaw, glaring down at me with hatred.

It felt like everything I'd ever lived for meant nothing. The way he looked at me, how he talked to me. God, I've never needed Bill Kaulitz more than I did right now. A harsh yet gentle murmur flowed past my lips. "You're horrible."

Nate laughed, lifting his axe to slash me again. "Say goodnight, Ameri."

But before he could harm, the large door withdrew a slam. With Nate being distracted, twisting, and turning to look at the noise, I had a short time. I didn't waste any of it before I wriggled and strained against the ties. I was blind to the sounds of loud arguing between Nate and another person as I finally ripped the ropes away on all limbs.

That's when I heard his voice.

"Ameri." He called out to me while Nate held back a wave of rage.

My eyes rounded with what could only be described as fearful luck. "Bill..."

I got up despite my injured self, sprinting to Bill and jumping into the only arms that felt like home to me.

A loud breath escaped Bill's mouth, his hands holding me tight and covering my wound hard. He kissed my forehead, whispering softly to me. "Sweetheart, your fucking arm." His voice came shaky. "Your fucking arm, oh, my god."

He almost sounded scared. And Bill never gets scared.

I looked at his glorious face, which quickly grew to be full of tears. "I'm fine. You're here now, and I'm fine."

Bill shook his head, huffing loudly. His mouth opened to speak until we got rudely interrupted by Nate.

"Cut this bullshit." His voice raised high. "You've never cared about her, ever. What changed?"

Bill moved me to stand behind him, his eyes losing the glint of comfort that made me warm. "What happened, Nate, was my brother."

"That was you. Your fault, and no one else's." He swiftly reminded.

Rage took over the mind of Bill. He threw me back, making me hit the wall. I fell to the ground with a loud grunt, watching as he lost his very mind.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled at Nate as loudly as possible. The sound, so powerful, that my hands automatically cupped my ears.

My eyes widened while I watched Bill, seeing him launch at Nate and throw a hard swing at his left cheek.

"Oh, fucking- jesus!" Nate exclaimed painfully, rubbing his face and picking up his axe.

Before Bill could say or do anything more, Nate swung.

Right at his fucking neck.

Cries elevated from my throat at the sight of Bill dying on the spot. "Bill, no!!" A terrifyingly hurt scream hollowed the room.

This is the moment where my heart officially dulls. Every blood drop fallen, every salty tear spilt. Even every hand forced - nothing was more sickening to the drained stomach of mine than this. Never had I ever figured that the last moment I'd ever have with him would be a comforting kiss. Both of my monstrous saviours had died, and I had nothing left going for me. To be, or not to be, that is the question. And now I finally understand it all. Each memory wasted on heart clenching pains and risky hurls all led to this very moment. All I was worth was layered out on a plate for me, all being a show.

Nothing went through the empty brain of mine as I crawled mindlessly toward nates' fallen toolbox. Picking up a loosely held satchet, I leaned my head backwards, swinging the weapon toward me and hammering myself in the head.

My body falls, and I declare myself in my last moments of thought.

I am not, and never was, to be.

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