It needed to happen now.
In the middle of the road.
Cinematic strings rang out as she pulled the knife from its glimmering ornate sheath.
Was that her father’s blade?
The wakizashi he took from the dead Japanese soldier on that island in the Pacific?
She steadied the blade in front of her stomach.
Why was she naked in the middle of the road?
The sky was green.
The world was green.
Was it raining?
Was it raining Harmonasinthe?
He had an umbrella.
It must be raining.
She wasn’t getting wet though.
“To be or not to be, that is the question”
She looked up into his hideously handsome face.
A truly demonic demeanor — straight out of a Lon Chaney horror film, but dressed in a tailored suit, and quoting Shakespeare.
The blade called to her.
She felt compelled to plunge it into her stomach.
What about Charlene?
Not much else mattered, but she certainly did.
Duty was a farce.
Her father had proven that.
Glen had proven that.
“Whether ’tis nobler in the mind.”
His pull was strong.
She felt like Dracula’s Lucy.
He wanted blood–her blood, and he wouldn’t give up until he had it.
That much was clear.
He continued the timeless speech.
“What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil must give us pause”
The words haunted her.
The meaning penetrated her.
She tossed the knife aside.
No, she thought.
Sometimes death won’t take no for an answer though.
Furious at her choice, the demon in the expensive suit raised the umbrella above his head, wielding it like a sword.
His intent was clear.
The sharpened point glistened for a moment.
She struggled to break free, but he overpowered her, straddled her, and plunged his umbrella into her chest.
Blood and candy spurted forth as she felt her soul leave her body, undoubtedly bound for Hell…
Thankfully, she had her guitar…
That was something at least.