A faint pitter patter of rain. Deserted street. Not a shred of sunlight. It would seem a very depressing scene, that. But I loved it. Even if Charlotte didn't.
She walked along the pavement, her dirty blonde hair now a brownish color clinging to her pale neck. She had neither an umbrella nor a hoodie to shield her from the steadily growing onslaught of raindrops forming what looked like tears down her cheeks. Shivering with cold, she glanced around the desolate street, her eyes scanning the closed jewellery shops, the darkened grocery stores, the abandoned bookshops, all with a growing sense of dread. She heard a movement. No, that was only her teeth chattering from the cold. If she lived long enough, she would be bedridden with sickness.
Charlotte wasn't very pretty. At least, she didn't think so. Her stone face and ice-cold eyes would often look deep into people's souls and unravel their darkest secrets string by string, until only a mess of wool was left behind. It wasn't a gift. It was a curse.
A rat scurried by, disappearing into a pitch black alleyway, the sound of its tiny feet echoing in the silence only broken by the rain, the chattering of Charlotte's teeth and the erratic beat of her heart in her ears. She was unnerved, but she wasn't scared. She didn't like the dark silence, but she had nothing to lose except the damp rags she had on at the moment. Nothing stood in her way now, or rather nobody.
There was a reason behind the numerous "Closed!" signs she kept seeing as she edged ever closer. There was a reason behind the unnatural stillness this city held, as if there was no life at all. And in a twisted sense there really was no life in this city, save the rats and few insects that rummaged the streets for food. Never again after the butchery last week.
The fifteen-year-old girl stopped suddenly as the memory of the past week's events surfaced once again. The screams for mercy. The cries of women and children. The guilty pleasure that overwhelmed him.
Her little brother.
At the thought tears sprang almost immediately to her eyes, mingling with the raindrops already streaming down her face. For the first time since childhood she let herself cry. No one was there to see her anyway. Her stone face broke into an expression of extreme anguish as she remembered how her beloved little Cayden was held over the edge of a three-story building to watch his family, his friends, everyone get brutally murdered, eviscerated. The poor thing was only ten.
Then he was pushed off the ledge.
There had been a fire at the foot of the building. The body was wiped off the face of the earth, never to be recovered. Even the ashes weren't found. Why, only God knows.
Charlotte broke down in hysterics. The bone-chilling cold and the twisted memory had gotten to her. Down onto the pavement she sank, an anchor thrown into the ocean, her heart heavier than it had ever been before.
She finally remembered that he was watching.
A startled cry came from her lips as she remembered why she came back, and she quickly sprang back up on her feet, wiping away any trace of the tears that had been present seconds before and hardening her heart. Trudging on once again, she went over the plan she had in mind. It had to work. She was certain that she'd meet her end when done, it was only natural. But she had to do it, rid the world of that impeding shame he brought upon the human race.
At last there was the main sewer entrance. Her only ticket in.
Charlotte pried open the rusted metal door with difficulty. Since the power had cut out three days ago, it was inevitable to see a black hole in front of her, and a prayer escaped her lips when she remembered she had no light to guide her through. It felt like blindness.
Feeling her way around as the door slammed behind her, she stumbled in several directions searching for a wall to be led by, reeling away in disgust when she felt a weirdly soft, squishy substance covering something. The entire wall, she felt, must have been covered in the same goo.
He was always associated with a weird black goo he used to "hide" his presence. The smile she held back now forced itself onto her lips. Bingo.
Summoning all her energy and willpower, Charlotte dashed into the goo, forcing her way through. Blinding light. For a few seconds her eyes were shut tight. Took a while for her to see again.
She was in a white room filled with state-of-the-art tech and many, many colorful buttons. But her eyes never took notice of anything but the white desk chair dead center in the middle of the room and the tuft of hair, similar in color, that was poking out the top.
He obviously heard her uninvited entrance, swiveling around with an expectant face. "I had a feeling you'd come."
The single sentence was dry and sad, but it didn't affect the now almost dead girl standing three feet away from him.
"Of course I'd pay a little visit," she replied. "And you know exactly why."
The smile that widened on his face showed how disappointed he was. "Well, so be it. I won't stop you."
Step after step she took until they were almost nose to nose. Her eyes traveled to his neck then back to his face while her hands slowly neared his throat.
"Goodbye, Max," came the hushed whisper right before the snap that jerked his head sideways.
They both fell limp.
Two humans who didn't deserve any of it now lost, fallen into oblivion...