Death Will Always Win

insomnia

Madeline felt it before she turned to see the creature peering over her shoulder. Its "hand" had fallen to her shoulder, holding it in its icy grip as it surveyed her work.

"He was a terrible man. Status before well-being. He will be missed by few." It regarded before drawing away from her. Madeline turned toward him, her darkened gaze focusing on that shadowy beast.

"You said I would have my revenge on all of them." She told it as she mustered up more of her new-found courage. "What about the driver?" A piercing chuckle came from it before it turned back to her, blank and black head seeming to stare in her direction.

"I will fulfill our bargain. Do not fret. Come, girl." And the creature crawled with spider-like limbs toward the same darkened corner they had appeared from. It slipped into the shadows, vanishing as if it had never been there. Madeline swallowed and looked back down to the mess that had once been Dr. Allen. One more. One more and Conner will have justice. For a moment, she questioned herself as she eyed the bloody remains before her. This wasn't right. Even if the world was better without Dr. Allen or Uncle Lewis, murder was still murder, right? She shook those thoughts from her mind and focused on Conner. She'd never see those bright eyes again. His smile. He'd never grow up. He would never have a chance for a better life.

And for that, there was hell to pay.

* * *

Ryan Gallard lived on the other side of town and the bastard was out on bail as they figured out the details about the accident. Getting to his home was easy thanks to the ability of Madeline's dark, new companion. Traveling through the shadows was a strange thing. It was like being slowly stretched and pulled thin, so thin that it seemed implausible to survive. Skin should snap, organs burst, and blood forced out of her body. However, there was no pain. Just a weird, uncomfortable pressure that constantly pushed upon her. Then, she would be moving. It felt like being sucked through a tunnel, pulled along against your will until you pushed through the very shadows themselves as if you were walking through particularly thick spider webs. Madeline felt a mixture of both wonder and terror as she was pulled along to the final living reminder of Conner's death.

She formed behind what looked to be the couch set in his living room. The lights were out, save for the playing television that cast a bright, moving light throughout the room while still leaving much in darkness. Madeline pulled herself up to her knees, her free hand lifting to grasp the back of the couch before she rose. Her other hand readied the black scythe as she peered over to see nothing. He wasn't in the room. A concerned look came across her face as she looked about for him. She finally spied him sitting in the connecting kitchen, bent over the large and round table.

She first noticed how skinny he was. He was a rather thin man and the t-shirt and jeans he wore hung loosely on him. His short, black hair was already developing a bald spot right on the top that was sure to spread in the coming years. He looked tired and sat silently, just staring off into the wood of the table with dark circles around his eyes.

Madeline's grip tightened on her weapon as she pressed forward, her newly-found confidence and rage made her care little for stealth. He noticed her when she approached the kitchen opening, tired eyes lifting to look toward her. He took a moment, just looking upon her before it suddenly registered in his head what was before him. Ryan let out a cry and hopped up from his chair, the fixture falling over to the floor with a loud clatter.

"W-what do you want?" he asked her as he stepped back. "Why are you in my house?" She could see fear welling in him. The same sweet fear Doctor Allen felt. Madeline lift her scythe slightly, letting her thumb toy with the tip as footsteps carried her around the table toward him like a stalking predator.

"You don't know who I am?" she began, her voice dark and low. Somewhere, deep inside, Madeline must've realized how much her actions changed her but the idea of vengeance clouded her thoughts. It clogged every rational nerve in her brain and forced her to focus on one thing: the pain she was about to bring on the man before her. "I know you. I know what you did." Ryan stared at her in a mix of fear and curiosity. Then, it hit him.

"Oh, oh god!" He spouted as his hands rose to grasp the sides of his head. "You're the girl. M-Madeline, right?" He recognized her? Good. Then he will understand the consequence of his actions. "I'm so sorry!" Ryan apologized. Madeline scoffed and tilted her head.

"You're sorry? Of course you're sorry now." She wasn't surprised at his apology after death stared into his gaze. It would take much more than that to save his life.

"No, I'm sorry!" he yelled again at her as tears welled in his eyes. His look turned more oddly frustrated as he continued. "It was an accident! I didn't mean to hurt you or your brother!"

"But you did!" Madeline screamed as she heft up the scythe. "You killed him! And you almost killed me! You're gonna pay!" And she brought the scythe down upon him. Ryan raised his arms, lifting them to protect his body as the cold steel bit into the flesh of a limb. He cried out and stumbled back, hand moving to hold the now bleeding wound. His eyes never left her though, even as he fell to a knee and she loomed over him, scythe once again rising to striking position.

"No, I-I-I..." he stammered as she glowered down to him. Just one moment away and Conner will be at rest. Justice will have been served. "It was an accident! I have insomnia!" Ryan quickly explained as he began to pull himself back, inching his body backward with kicking legs. "I hadn't slept in two days! I needed to go to work. I thought I could handle it. I...god, Madeline, I am so sorry."

Insomnia? Madeline paused as she repeated the word in her head. He blamed this on insomnia? She lost the one person that mattered to her and this guy said it was because he was too tired to drive? A side glance about the kitchen made her muscles loosen. Madeline had been so focused on her prey that she didn't notice the medicine bottles on table. Sleep aids? And the tired look in his eyes...his incredibly skinny body stature...

She suddenly found herself picturing it in her head. Ryan, driving to work to make ends meet after not having slept for 48 hours. Finally, the lack of sleep caught up to him while he was driving. And then, he just happened to drive in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Madeline once again looked down to him, her cold eyes staring into his own pleading ones. Ryan was terrified, but, there was something else. Regret? Guilt? Madeline, lowered the weapon and stepped back, a shocking gasp filling her lungs.

It was an accident.

Ryan didn't mean to hit them. He was a victim of circumstance, just as she and Conner were. The poor man was just trying to keep his life going but his sickness got the better of him. His death wasn't self-defense or justified.

It would be murder.

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