Scara Rose, The Warrior

Chapter 63

Scara's pov

I find myself chained to a wall in and what looks like an old underground room. I pick my gaze up off the floor to see three jail cells in front of me. It suddenly hits me where I am.

This is the place where I died.

As soon as I realize this, JJ, Spencer, and Chris appear in a jail cell. They're dirty and tired, just like they were back then.

The two men with ski masks walk out of the back room and begin to beat the crap out of me. I feel like the pain of every punch and kick is magnified to cause more pain.

I hear JJ, Reid, and Chris beg them to stop, but something Chris says catches their attention.

"You can do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt her anymore."

Lord Cutler Beckett walks out of the back room with a gun and knife in his hands. He comes up to me and starts stabbing me in the stomach. I feel the blade rip through my flesh, and then slide back out, over and over again.

I close my eyes from the pain for only a moment. When I open them, Beckett throws Chris against the wall and points a gun at him. I use all my strength to fight against the restraints, but it's no use.

I am forced to watch as Cutler Beckett fatally shoots my true love in the heart.

The worst pain imaginable comes over me as I see Chris clutch his chest and weakly fall to the floor. The shackles on my wrists and ankles fade away as I rush over to take his weak body into my arms.

"Hey, you're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay," I say soothingly. I pull out an old rag from my pocket and press it against the open wound.

"You just have to keep your eyes open."

"Scara," Chris whispers so faintly I barely even hear him.

"Yes it's me. I'm right here, Babe."

"I..." Chris starts to say, but he goes completely limp and his eyes slowly shut.

"No, no, no, no," I begin to panic. I gently shake him to try to get him to open his eyes.

"Baby, don't leave me."

I'm so desperate I begin to plea. I can't lose him, he's everything to me. I can't live without him, I won't.

"Come back to me," I whisper softly.

It's no use. He already bled out. He's already dead.

"It's your fault," Beckett tells me with false sympathy, "because of you, your lover is dead. Because of you, a little girl is dead."

I glance over to one of the previously unoccupied cells to see Hannah's small, frail body lying where she died. I sob harder than I ever have before.

It's all my fault.

I lay my head on Chris' chest and cry my heart out. I feel useless without him. I am nothing without him.

"I'm sorry," I say through my sobs over and over again.

I wake up in a cold sweat and see I'm in my parents' loft. I frantically look around the room while tears continue to flow down my face.

I don't see anyone.

I'm all alone, it was just a dream, or at least I think it was.

I quickly grab my phone from the night stand and dial Chris' number. I notice the alarm clock says three a.m. and I think about hanging up, but I really need to know if he's ok.