The One Fanfiction

Chapter 15

It's been two weeks. Still no word from Maxon. It was getting hard to keep from breaking down. I missed him so much. I never took my ring off and I was pretty sure the blue-beaded braclet he'd given me was permanently attached to my wrist. I read his letter every day.

The King and I talked every day, which was weird. We discussed where to send search parties, if they wanted a ransom, and what duties I would have since Maxon wasn't here. He and I never talked about Maxon as a person, but we had a silent agreement that we both would do whatever was necessary to get Maxon back. I was shocked to discover that even though he beat him, the King cared about his son more than he let on.

Four weeks. None of the search parties have come back from the South. I barely touched my food. I spent most of my time in his room. The first time I went in there, it was totally different from what I'd expected; from how Kriss had described it.

It was large and a little empty. The walls were white and had beautiful paintings of the outdoors. I'd thought that there were really not many personal touches until I took a closer look at the paintings. In the corner of each one were the initials M.S. Maxon could paint. He'd never told me.

I'd felt a little stabbing pain in my heart. What if there were other things I didn't know? What if he never gets the chance to say all the things he'd never said?

Now, I went in there to think- or cry. I would lay on his bed. His scent was on every pillow, every blanket. For a moment I would feel a little better. Then, I would fade back into a cloud of depression.

One day, I was laying on Maxon's bed, when the door burst open. My heart jumped, thinking maybe he was finally back. I frowned when the familiar figure of the King stormed in. A small package a little bigger than my hand, was in his grasp. He tossed it to me and I read the label:

To: America Singer From: The South

"Open it," the King commanded. I shot him an annoyed glare. He couldn't boss me around like that. Then, I opened it.

Inside, was a little black rectangle. I had no clue what it was. I handed it to the King and he said, "It's a VCR tape. People used to store films on these. We have a VCR player in the theater. Come on." With that, he ran out the door, faster than I thought possible at his age.

When I finally met up with him at the theater, the King was tapping his foot impatiently. "Play it," I ordered. Two could play at the boss-the-other-around game. He scowled and started the VCR. We take our seats and look up to the screen.

An image appears on the large screen. Maxon. He was tied to a chair and struggling to get free. He had a few bruises and a small layer of dirt in his face. Maxon was still wearing his suit, but it was torn and filthy.

"Hello, America." It wasn't Maxon speaking. It was Aspen. He stepped into view of the camera. His hair was combed neatly and wearing a clean shirt and pants. Aspen always used to look a little bedraggled, but now he looked neat and orderly. It made him look intimidating and a little frightening.

Fear coursed through my veins. Aspen had Maxon. Aspen had the person I loved most. Maxon also happened to be the person Aspen hated most. Maxon was in a position where Aspen could do whatever he pleased to him.

Aspen placed himself behind Maxon. Then, he pulled a knife. He ran it along Maxon's cheek, but didn't break the skin. Maxon turned away, a look of pure disgust on his face. Maxon muttered under his breath.

Aspen grabbed Maxon's face and yelled, "What did you say?" Maxon smiled grimly and he spat out his next words venomously.

"She chose me. Get over it." That sent Aspen over the edge. He took the knife and made a large gash on Maxon's cheek. I gasped in horror as Maxon sucked in a breath to keep from screaming.

Aspen turned toward the camera and shrieked, "Do you see this, America? I can kill him! Right here, right now!" He had a crazed look in his eyes.

Suddenly, he regained his composure. "Lucky for you, Mer, we still have a use for your precious Prince Charming."

I glanced over at the King. He was staring at me like, "Who the heck is he?" Well, I doubt he would say 'heck', but it was close enough. I mouthed the word 'later' and returned my attention to the screen.

Aspen continued speaking. "Gregory Illéa's diary. We want it. Give it to us and we'll spare this maggot you call a prince." I knew they wanted the diary! I remember confronting Maxon about it, but he'd quickly dismissed the idea.

Obviously, Maxon remembered too because he shouted, "Don't give it to him, America!"

Aspen slammed a fist into Maxon's jaw. I winced as an audible crack resounded through the theater. Tears streamed down my face as my heart broke. King Clarkson put his hand on top of mine sympathetically. It was the first real kindness he'd ever shown me.

Our moment was interuppted by Maxon's voice. "I love you, America" Aspen made another cut, this one much deeper than the first. Maxon said it again, Aspen slashed again. They went on like this for ten minutes. Maxon didn't give Aspen the pleasure of hearing him scream. Not once, until he passed out from the pain.

Then, the screen went black.

Alright, my dears. I really want to know what you think! Please comment your thoughts! Btw... I should be posting more tonight!