interlude | in the face of death

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trigger warning: mentions of rape but nothing explicit

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DAREN HAD NEVER BEEN AFRAID OF DEATH.

There was really no point in fearing the inevitable, he always said. Death had to come for everyone someday. Spending this short life in total fear of that unknown abyss seemed like such a wasteful thing to do. Daren believed in living every day as if it was his last. He did whatever his heart desired and damn anyone who tried to get in his path.

Live every day as if it's your last on this earth.

That was Daren's motto in life. But all the twenty year old knew when Death came barging into his world that night was that he hadn't lived enough.

It had been an ... eventful day, to say the least. His naive girlfriend of two months had turned fifteen today. Ugly bitch, he internally scoffed, taking a large swig of beer as he threw his head back against the headrest of the faded red armchair.

She was a big boned creature, her physique closer to that of a young man than a teenage girl. Add to that the fact that she happened to possess the mental capacity of a five year old and you got yourself the perfect package. The kind which belonged in a trash can amongst other such garbage.

She should have been grateful, really, that Daren had even shown her any interest in the first place. Back in high school, before he had been expelled, he used to be quite popular among the girls for his good looks. You would have thought that any girl would consider herself lucky to be his girlfriend.

Not Calista.

That freaking giantess of a girl had the gal to dump him. She dumped him when really, it should have been the other way around. And all because he said he wanted to take their relationship to the next level. She had become all agitated when he suggested it, saying it wasn't legal. Saying she wanted to wait a while. Saying she wasn't ready.

Bullshit.

Annoyance crept into him. Crushing the now empty beer can in his palms, Daren flung it across the living room. It rolled over to join the four or five cans already lying there, half-hidden under the dusty tv trolley.

All Calista's excuses had been bullshit. She may have given off the impression of being brave and strong on the outside but Daren saw her for who she really was. A pathetic little girl too timid and helpless for her own good who spent her life quaking in fear of one thing or another.

She meekly took shit from everyone but when Daren, her own boyfriend, had tried to have his way with her, she resisted. He had only wanted her to grow up. He wanted to help her but she wouldn't let him. So naturally, he took things into his own hands.

If only she wasn't so stubborn but weak at the same time. If only she hadn't tried to stop him from getting what he wanted. She had given in to his wishes, of course, after some ... persuasion. But she hadn't stopped the bloody crying. She sobbed her heart out, sobbed until her eyes were red and constant hiccups wrecked through her body and afterwards, she had fled his house as if the devil himself was chasing her.

Daren leaned forward and grabbed yet another can of beer from the low living room table. All this drinking had already dulled his senses and his hands shook as he tried to open the can. After a couple of failed attempts, he managed to wrench it open. Just as he was about to lift it to his lips, a sudden crash coming from the adjoining kitchen resounded throughout the small house.

Startled, Daren stumbled off the armchair, cursing loudly when his knee hit the pointed corner of the table. He fidgeted in his pockets for the small but sharp-edged knife he always kept in there.

One step, two steps, three, he counted in his head as he tried to make his way to the kitchen without tripping over his own feet in his intoxicated state. One step, two steps, three. One step, two steps —

The sight he encountered in the dark kitchen left him momentarily speechless with shock. Then a sigh of relief escaped through his lips.

"Calista?" he choked out.

She didn't reply. Bemused, Daren rubbed his eyes and squinted at her. The girl standing before him was definitely Calista. She was wearing the same white dress from this morning although her perfectly combed hair and become a tangled mess — and were those thorns and leaves sticking out of her dark tresses? Where had this girl come from?

Daren leaned against the doorway to steady himself, a lazy smirk flitting across his lips. He took a long swig of beer from the can still clutched in his fingers before addressing the girl before him once again.

"Came back for more, baby girl? One time just wasn't enough for you, was it? I knew you were secretly craving for me along."

Still Calista didn't say anything; she simply stood there, motionless. The silver moonlight streaming in from the broken kitchen window behind her bestowed her with an ethereal glow. It may have been the alcohol playing with his mind but in that moment, Calista looked more like some phantom that would fade away at the slightest touch than an actual living, breathing girl.

Shards of glass from the window littered the floor around her bare feet, some even piercing through her skin but Calista seemed immune to the pain. Paper thin cuts adorned her arms as well where the sharp glass must have bitten into her as she climbed inside the kitchen. Droplets of blood were oozing out of them in tiny crimson rivers.

And in her hands she clutched a large pair of garden scissors, the sharp silver edges gleaming in the moonlight.

Daren laughed out loud. "Why are you holding my garden scissors, baby girl? Did you steal them from my shed?"

He pushed himself away from the doorframe and took shaky steps towards her.

"Stealing is a crime, Cal, surely your daddy taught you that." He abruptly halted in front of her, swaying slightly. He clutched onto her shoulders for support. "Oh wait. Your daddy is a criminal himself. A rapist."

Once again, the girl — phantom — whatever she was — remained so stoic that Daren wouldn't have been surprised to find out that someone had carved her straight from solid rock and placed her in his kitchen as some kind of a practical joke.

But her jaw clenched noticeably and her grip tightened around the scissors. Rocks don't move even the slightest bit, Daren mused, thoroughly confused, his drunk mind slow to process what was happening. She must be real after all.

"What? Are you offended by what I said?" Daren leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Are you still mad at me, baby girl? You know you deserved what you got. The daughter of a rapist got raped. Justice was served."

Daren roared with laughter at the irony of it all. "Karma is a bitch, isn't it? Karma really is a —"

His next words, along with his last laugh, died in his throat. Without warning, Calista stabbed him with both points of the scissors, an almost inhuman cry of fury escaping through her lips.

The scissors dug two bloody holes in his torso and as he felt death creeping closer and closer to him in the darkness, as he blindly lashed his arms out — swinging the knife across her face and begging for mercy at the same time —

— only one thought ricocheted in his agonised mind.

I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die!

In that moment, as black dots tainted his vision and Death smiled down at him with a maniacal glint in her fathomless grey eyes and blood dripping down her cold, hard face, Daren wasn't just afraid.

He was terrified.



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A / N

Yes, Daren, karma really is a bitch.

I almost felt the need to cleanse myself after writing this because I don't like violence and trying to put myself inside a rapist's mind was...disturbing.




( p.s. y'all thought Apollo was telling Calista to suicide, didn't you? Don't forget, he "cares" about her. )

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