❝ She's in my head and has you on her radar. You either leave and forget who I ever was, or live to kill me. ❞
❝ Is there a third option that doesn't involve losing you? ❞
. . . in which Rhea's fear of her own mother becomes so unruly that a masked...
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THE UNRULY WAS reaching her endgame now. The pinnacle of her plan, the summit of her existence. Although despite minor changes to it-
-the end goal remains the same, and it'll bring Peter down with it.
She paced back and forth the room, flipping a trifling penknife in her hands. It was 5 o'clock in the evening, and Lydia had stormed out of the house for her deskbound job in the morning, without uttering a single word to her ever since the confession. Silent treatment. Pretty ironic, especially since that silence would last eternally for Lydia, very, very soon.
Now all the unruly had to do, was smoothly connect the dots the way 5 years old Rhea did on her activity book before accidentally knocking her bowl of mushroom soup off the dining table. "Hey, she's just a little girl. Kids spill things!" Her dad would tell Lydia off when she scolded her for making a mess.
Who knew, the last mess she would see as a kid was her dad's body. Instead of mushroom soup, it was crimson. And instead of Lydia admitting she spilled it, she claimed it fell off the table by itself. Lydia wasn't a kid. Lydia was a murderer who made a kid believe her.
But of course, there was always a part of Rhea who resisted against the fabricated truth, who wasn't afraid of Lydia's threats and who knew exactly what revenge was. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life.
That was the unruly, who thought Rhea too naive to understand what she believes in. So she took matters into her own hands. And now, Peter was a part of it. He was the minor change, because he could possibly stop her from reaching the final dot in her activity book. He was the only one she failed to fool long enough. And now, Tony Stark might even get involved.
It was really quite a disappointment, Peter was the only person the unruly liked. Now, he's just another disposable marionette.
The unruly stopped pacing about, and for the first time, she felt afraid. Afraid that Tony Stark will somehow get rid of her and that she would cease to exist in a world where Lydia Abner is still alive. She was fearful of dying, although her entire life revolved around death, just not hers.
The plan must be executed today then, she thought. I want to be alive to see it succeed, at least.
Who cares if Rhea's future died along with me?
The click of the apartment door jolted her back to reality, where she nearly drowned in her own thoughts and rare fear. And that... was her signal to finally get the plan moving. She reached out for her phone, going to her list of contacts and selecting Peter's. She stared at his dorky profile picture, boy could barely take a proper photo to save his life. Poor Pete, if only he could've just stayed away from Rhea, then he wouldn't have to be in this mess.
But an anomaly occurred in her almost-perfect plan. And that anomaly, was Lydia bursting through Rhea's bedroom door and tackling her onto the ground, knocking the phone out of her hands.
"YOU WITCH!" She screamed, her fist colliding against the unruly's jaw. "YOU SET ME UP!" Another punch. And another. Too many to count. She felt her eyes swell up, and the skin beside her lip becoming tender and sore, before the metallic taste of blood was the only thing that filled her senses.
The unruly escaped the pain by returning control to Rhea.
"Mom?!" Rhea choked, ignoring the gush of pain that came with moving her lips even in the slightest. She tried to push herself away from her hysterical mother, only for Lydia to wound her fingers in Rhea's hair, pulling her painfully towards her.
"You forced that confession out of me, didn't you?" Lydia seethed, her voice scratchy from all her wrath, "You were going to turn me in to the police with that recording, huh? You cunning bastard!" Hatred. That was the only thing she felt. And Rhea knew then, that Lydia hated her more than her father.
Would I suffer the same fate too?
"Let go of me!" Rhea cried out, her fingernails sinking into Lydia's wrist, yet she didn't budge a single bit.
With Rhea's hair entangled around her hand, she shoved her face into the chest of drawers, drawing blood that now trickled down her head in a steady flow, "You'll bring my truth to your grave."
A weak, soft chuckle escaped her bloodied mouth. Her vision blurred, yet she hung on to the very loose thread of consciousness. "You finally... called it... the truth." She just had to stall for time. "You kept calling his murder a lie!" Rhea spat through the pain, her hand slowly reaching for her phone beneath the desk. "I'm so proud... of you, mother."
Lydia shoved her head against the hardwood once again, hating every word she spoke and not daring to meet her daughter's eyes, who seemed to web in and out of wakefulness.
It was at this point, that the unruly grasped the opportunity to improvise on her plan.
"This was supposed to be my day," the unruly forced through gritted teeth before headbutting Lydia hard, causing her to stumble backwards and let go of her, while disregarding the dull, rush of painful throbbing that spread throughout her head, as the world around her spun rapidly on its axis.
The unruly quickly grabbed Rhea's phone, hitting dial on Peter's contact.
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qotd !! ; thoughts on the spider-man controversy?
smol psa: so... my prelims start tomorrow, but! i managed to squeeze this chapter out before the exams start, so i apologise if this chapter isn't up to par. i did my best!
also.. i had the wildest dream last night, jake gyllenhaal was my history teacher
