The Gatekeeper (LGBT+)

What I've Become (The Hunt)

In my heart of hearts, in willingness to believe that my life isn't a series of bad events with very few good things in between, I let myself fall prey to happiness.

I should have never come back.

David's death, or lack of humanity, isn't all my fault. He's a casualty of war, like he always has been. Like they all are.

Like I am.

It's with this knowledge that I sit on the couch, staring forward. There's so much chatter going on around me and I tell myself the chatter is what causes me to freeze. I tell myself that my psychosis is because of them. I keep lying to myself.

The chatter escalates to yelling and something in me snaps. The lights in the house flicker and several lamps and vases fly off their stands. Some crash against the wall, others shatter on the floor.

The chattering and bickering stops and the room falls silent.

Porter moves in front of me, kneeling, "Hey! Perry, come on! Snap back here." He says grabbing me by the shoulders. An involuntary burst of energy shoots from him and he flies backward.

"Perry!" Charlotte says as she rushes to him.

I know where we start. We find my husband. After we find him, we put his soul back. After that we bring back the Salem Witch Trials.

I stand pushing my hands over my knees, smoothing my pants. It's a nervous tick, a tick that keeps my emotions in check. I'm having trouble with that now.

"We need to find him." I say simply.

"And then what?" Eva asks, "We all want him back—"

"None of you want him back as bad as I do."

"That's not true!" Penny protests, "We all want—"

"Stop. Stop talking." I say dismissively, "Get out. Everyone get out now. I'm going upstairs to get my things, I'm going hunting and I expect everyone who doesn't live here to be gone."

"Perry..." Eva protests.

"You too." I say moving past them.

I can hear chattering again, this time I don't have to try to ignore it. I just do. It's white noise once again. I've been living in sunshine for so long that I've forgotten how the darkness feels. How utterly cold and terrifying it can be.

For a certain amount of time, I began to live for the darkness.

I don't like it anymore, if I ever did.

I walk to the guest room and crack the door open. Lucas is cradling Finn's pale, lifeless body on the bed. He brought him up shortly after the attack.

I'm not the only one who lost something.

I know he hears me. He must have. He doesn't acknowledge me. Not at first. The longer I stand in the doorway, the more I realize that he's dangerous in a normal headspace, but this is all but certain to be beyond that. Even knowing that, I can't move. He wouldn't move.

"He's dead." Lucas says with a frown.

I'm silent. My mind knows that it isn't my fault but it doesn't make my heart think otherwise. I consciously know that this isn't about me but something in me is vain or unaware.

"Yeah, he's—I'm sorry he—"

"I meant David." His voice comes through the darkness. It's not until the words leave his mouth and settle that I realize he's very serious. His voice is low and dangerous, as I knew it would be. He stands in the darkness and turns to me. I can't see his face because it is shrouded in darkness. I don't have to see it. I'm startled when his voice comes again through the darkness, "He murdered Finn."