Real or not real? (Five Hargreeves) Book 2

Chapter 17 'Do you trust me?'

She was gone.

Five watched as Lila frantically pressed two fingers to Stellar's neck, desperately trying to feel for a pulse through a haze of tears. He knew she wouldn't find anything even before she stood up with something alarmingly close to a sob and Diego pulled her into his arms.

Everything around him seemed to slow for a few seconds. For a moment, he couldn't think of anything. Everyone's panic melted into a background hush as he stared down at her lifeless body - the giant gash on her stomach. The way her eyes were glassy, her fingers still slightly curled as if she would clench it into a fist and create that familiar purple glow at any second.

He'd never wanted to kill Reginald more in that moment.

But maybe it would have to wait. He glanced further up her hand, catching sight of her left wrist. ...What was that?

He reached out, turning her hand over so he could see the inside of her wrist, then inhaled sharply.

That was why she had stayed inside longer when he went to visit Pogo.

On her wrist was a tattoo. He brushed his thumb gently over the ink - smooth black lines in the form of 7 stars in the shape of...the sigil they had been looking for. He narrowed his eyes, momentarily forgetting about everything else. The others were all talking over each other, rambling on about who knew what. Five glanced down. Just next to where he was sitting was a star. Could it be...?

He stood up abruptly, looking around the main area of the lobby. Another star.

Holy shit.

He looked to the stairs and ran up them, moving to the balcony.

Had she known the whole time? Was the tattoo a message? It must have been. Did she move to die exactly on that spot so he would see? He had no idea. But Stellar was...probably a lot smarter than he usually gave her credit for.

Holy shit.

They'd totally missed it.

7 stars on the floor.

In the shape of the sigil.

Every instance of the stupid symbol flashed through his mind.

The tattoo.

The book.

The painting on the wall of the hotel.

Everyone was still arguing downstairs, but Five heard none of it.

"Hey, I found the sigil!" He yelled. "It's on the-"

CRACK.

The glass on the ceiling shattered with a deafening sound that sliced through everyone else's voices.

A guardian dropped down, weapon swinging-

-and sliced his arm clean off.

Five let out a cry of pain, dropping to the floor as pain shot up his arm and through his body. The pain was searing, hot and consuming, and he fought back tears as he tried to regain his bearings. He'd been injured before, sure, but this hurt like hell. If Stellar was here she would probably say something like 'No shit, it hurts. You don't have an arm.'

He almost scoffed.

His arm had just gotten cut off and he was thinking about Stellar.

Who was dead.

Shut up, Five.

Fix your stupid arm first.

An explosion sounded from below, followed by cries and shouts from the rest of his family.