Tried For Error

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It is said that when you feel nothing you are numb.

It is supposed to be described as a state where you're bereaved of the power of physical sensation as any feelings seemed to have just... disappeared, but maybe Scarlett didn't agree.

She'd never felt so numb compared to that exact moment when the shot rang out through the cabin. Maybe she should've been mad, maybe she should've cried or maybe she should've even gone insane and stormed the lounge area, yet here she was, in the exact same spot, a deathly quiet hallway, thinking about nothing.

But this is not because she felt nothing. It’s not that she lacked all of her emotions, it’s just that she was so overwhelmed with them from possible thoughts of losing her mother for real this time, that she didn't know how to react. She didn't know what was expected of her and just like her tears, all her feelings were locked deep inside, somewhere in her chest. This would explain the clawing sensation she was experiencing near her chest area.

Scarlett hated crying. She believed that crying made her show emotion, therefore making her seem weak and vulnerable.

So for Scarlett, numbness was not described as the lack of feeling then, but the exact opposite. It was the overwhelming stream of those, like watching a tsunami coming for you, knowing there is no use to run so you just accept your fate, like a physically numb person. Numbness meant, to her, that she had so much locked in her chest, but she didn't know how to bring it out. That is, after all, what she'd been taught to avoid ever since she joined Christopher's gang when she just about turned eight.

However, this night and to the rest of her days, she knew that it would never feel the same for her, because there was no turning back now.

Scarlett cleared her mind of any further dark thoughts that clouded her logical thinking and stormed the room where the source of the gunshot originated from. When she saw her mother slumped on the couch, a hand firmly folded around the grip of a pistol while the other massaged her temple, she released a breath of relief that she never even knew was present.

This is why she hated getting close to anyone. With each new relationship, whether it be with a family member, a friend or a lover, one carries a large amount of baggage -- memories, experiences, lessons learned. Each time you tend to care about someone, you change a little, you get softer. You become someone entirely different.

She snapped her gaze away from her mother's vulnerable figure and scanned the room. When she saw Christopher lying on the ground, a pool of his own blood forming around his body, her lips parted in shock. She slowly maneuvered her way over distorted furniture and made sure to take precautious steps to his body that, despite the amount of blood loss, still seemed to be breathing, if the rise and fall of his chest was any indication of that.

She kneeled beside him, scanning his body over. Grace had shot him in the chest. Scarlett was pretty sure that the bullet hole was way too close to his heart for him to even remotely make it to an emergency room in time. It didn't help that they were also situated in the middle of the woods.

Her eyes rose further in inspection and finally connected with his. She didn't even flinch at his accusing stare and instead held his dilating gaze with her own. "Why did you follow me?" She kept her face neutral, not expressing any worry or sympathy for the man that practically raised her and made her who she was today.

His mouth opened, a stream of blood escaping from the side of his lips, creating its own pathway down his neck, and he laughed. It came out rather sardonic as he let out a few struggling coughs along the way. "Don't think s-so highly of yourself." More coughing followed. "W-who says we followed you?"

She moved dangerously closer to him, gripping his bloody shirt in her fist.

"Answer the question, old man. You're about to die and the least you can do before visiting the pits of hell, is give me a reasonable explanation after all the problems you've caused me these passing weeks."

He blinked, his eyelids seemingly heavier every passing second as he struggled to open them again. "M-my Wife... Mother. Killed." He was heaving now, struggling to breathe as his body started twitching violently from the efforts in talking and trying to break free the hold she had on him.

"Wha-"

He opened his mouth again, more bloody saliva dripping down his jaw.

"Pre-pregnant. Baby... L-le-ga-cy," he finally soat out. Then he closed his eyes, and Scarlett loosened her hold on him.

She brought her hand up to slap him across the face, an inadvertent reaction to his eyes closing, but a hand shot out and grasped her wrist from behind. Scarlett looked up and saw her mother standing rather stiffly, her eyes boring down on Christopher. "He's dead."

"Motherfucker," She wrenched herself free from the unwanted grasp before abruptly standing up. "What did he mean? Legacy? What does my unborn child have to do with this?"

"Well, from his earlier words I'm assuming that he followed you here with the sole purpose of ending my life, hench the word "mother", because I killed his "wife", but I'm not quite sure-"

"Wait, what? You killed his wife too? I thought you only killed Sophia?"

"I did not have a choice, HE left me no choice after killing your father. I guess you can say it was more a sense of extracting revenge on a mutual enemy..."

Scarlett took a step back as she gave her mother a disgusted look. One of her main rules as an assassin was not hurting innocent bystanders with family, and while Christopher wasn't exactly innocent, his wife didn't deserve the horrible fate that her mother had forced upon her.

Seeing the look on her face, Grace made a defensive motion with her hands. "I know what you're thinking and yes, that probably wasn't the best decision I've made in my life so I guess you can just add that to the growing list, however I was not in the right state of mind and I don't think it's fair to uphold me on my reckless actions."

She narrowed her eyes, but a sudden reminder in the back of her mind kept her from giving a sassy reply. Scarlett spun around and made a dash for the hallway, the same hallway that was supposed to be filled with memory pictures, mirrors and the limp body of a former acquaintance. Not to her suprise, Curtis was gone.

She cursed and made her way back to the living room, checking her surroundings through all the windows and found that the rest of the group had also left. The only logical explanation being that Dominique, or someone else, came in through the back door and took Curtis away with them in his unconscious state.

"What's wrong?" Grace's concerned voice just about processed to Scarlett, her mind swirling wuth unanswered questions.

She closed her eyes and brought a hand up to massage the bridge of her nose. "Nothing... Pack your stuff, but try to keep it light with only your essentials. We are leaving. If you need anything else at a later time, I will not hesitate to buy it for you."

"But-"

"We barely made it out alive after an encounter with a group of ruthless assassins and a dead body is sprawled out on your floor. Can you PLEASE just listen to me for once in your life, be a respectful mom and abide by my request on keeping you and my unborn baby safe? Just this once."

"What should we do with him? He's a person too, you know?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yes, I guess we can not exactly leave him here. The last thing we need is a bunch of explorers walking through here and finding a dead body. I will call a friend and cash in a favor. You, on the other hand, should start packing."

Grace went scurrying from the room after her little pep talk to, what Scarlett could only hope, pack.

Meanwhile, Scarlett look a seat on the nearest couch and tried to process her current situation. No doubt that they would have to to draw up a new strategy from here on out. As far as Scarlett was concerned, Christopher's death wouldn't put an end to a gang that was now in complete control by Dominique...

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*The end*