Hostile Takeover
~ 2018 ~
I fight to remain conscious, head throbbing. I feel my vision blur. It’s hard to focus on anything in sharp detail. I get flashes of clarity, of my brother standing over me, a shocked look on his face. A rock dropped next to me, my necklace dropping with it. Both coated in fresh blood. Mine.
“Edgar… Why?” I struggle to have my senses come back to me, scrambling backwards towards the cliff. “I was… I am going to give you everything! So why…”
“I…” His voice is shaky, weak. He’s staring at his hands. I'm lucky that he seems to be in just as much shock at his actions as I am, or else… I’d already be dead. I scramble further away from him. “I have to. Don’t you get it? Your way is never going to work. It’s going to be years, decades, before you can get me back to where I belong. Especially with how unfit you are for leadership? Why would anyone listen to you?” He closes his fists, flexing them. "No, this is the only way this could have gone. I have to. It’s out of my control.”
“But, but! Killing me won’t get you anything! It’s throwing away the golden goose for no reason! All you’ll get is a rap sheet, and your last door to the family shut for good!”
His arms slump down, his features going more resolute. “You really don’t get it. This was put into motion a long time before now. The plan can’t just change.” He’s… been planning this? I don’t understand!
He steps towards me, and my eyes bug out of my head. I try to get up and run, but my legs are jelly, my arms feel unresponsive. The best I can muster is to scuttle backwards, up to the edge of the cliff. I can feel my fingers slide over the edge. “Wait! Edgar, wait! This isn’t you!” He stops walking towards me for a moment. I reach up to him, silently praying that he would stop, take my hand, pull me up. Tell me it was all a bad joke. “You’re, you’re not a killer! You’re kind! You help people, you helped those wome–”
“You and those fucking trannies. I used them! They’re cheap whores who are easier to fuck around with, you stupid snivling loser.” He shouts, slapping my hand out of the air. “You’re a fucking moron, Morty! You’re self obsessed, you isolate yourself in your own little world. And you can’t see what’s happening right in front of your face. I don’t have a use for you anymore. This is it, Morty.”
He reaches down, squeezes my neck tight with his hands. The ring with the crest presses right on my windpipe. I try to reach up to pull him off, to speak more with him, to do anything. But I can’t. I feel my face start to swell up, my breathing hitch and wither in my throat. I can barely cough, I can’t feel anything going into my body. Soon my limbs lose their strength, my hands dropping from my brother’s wrists. God, this is how I go out. Just as I think that, just before I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, my face swell up into a blood filled mass… He lets go. Starts huffing and puffing above me, like he had his own throat shut. I desperately gasp for air, sucking in as much as I can, as deep of gulps as I can. Tears stream down my eyes, soaking my face.
“Edgar!” I hear a new voice shout out from behind the craggy outcropping. Veronica! “What are you doing!” She steps forward, kitchen knife brandished out towards him. She’s slow, careful.
“Veron… ica…” I wheeze, barely able to speak, barely able to think. I reach out for her shakily. “Help… me. Get… secur– security…”
She walks right up to him, knife pointed right up against him, tip to his chin. “You all make me do everything, I swear.” She lowers the knife, and steps over to me, like an angel. She leans over, cradles my head in her hands, petting my hair softly. “My dear, sweet, stupid husband.” Please. Please help… She lifts my head by the chin, kisses me on the forehead.
“Ughhk!” A sharp pain, piercing, comes to me. I look down, the… The blade of the knife deep in my chest. Veronica’s hand attached to the hilt. Please, no… She pulls it out, and stabs me again for good measure. I can feel the blood gushing out of me, pumping out of the wounds. “Wh… why?”
She grimaces, shakes herself up. Walks over to Edgar, slaps him on the face. “Why did you stop! Eugh, it’s disgusting.”
He grabs her, pulls her into his side. “Forgive me baby?” What? No. She sighs and snuggles into his arms.
I struggle to lean up, to look at them. “Please… Why? I don’t… Understand…”
Edgar frowns, turns to Veronica. “Oh, just tell him. Maybe he’ll die happy.”
She sighs dramatically. “Fine!” She turns to me, sneer on her face. I’ve never seen her with so much contempt before. “You really are a fool, Mortimer. Did you really think I would be happy? Going from the wife of one of the richest men in the world, to destitute overnight? I deserved more than you. I deserve a real man, someone who would provide for my life. Someone who would touch me more than once a year too. Not some limp wristed sissy who would rather spend his time with the half women of the world.”
She turns to my brother, nestling in. “Luckily I had this hunk all locked up by himself. You couldn’t even tell we’ve been going behind your back for years. I kept trying to figure out how to get rid of the dead weight, but it didn’t come together until the old bastard keeled over.”
I glance, defeated, as Edgar turns to kiss my wife, deeply, hands around her body. “Your plan was perfect, baby. Reclusive Mortimer, racked with grief, overwhelmed and stressed. Constantly complaining about how little he wanted his own future. No wonder he would off himself at his own celebration party.”
She laughs, boops him on the nose. “Of course it did, darling. It’s going to be awful losing the love of my life, I’m sure. I’ll be so wracked with grief… If only a big, strong man would be there to comfort me. The public will understand when you step into the light as my new lover. And then it’ll be just us. I’ll inherit everything from his will, and you’ll be right there by my side. That’s what you want, Eddy, right?”
He laughs, pulling her into her tighter. “That’s right. I want the world to know me, and I want all of my power within my reach.”
“Well, I’ve gotten what I wanted.” Veronica turns to me, her eyes hard, piercing. “Look at that honey, you did provide for me! And you got your brother back in the family, just like you wanted. My husband, the altruist.”
They kiss again, or I think they did. My vision is blurring over. I turn onto my stomach, pull the knife out from my chest. I could… No. No, I can’t fight back. I don’t have anything left in me. I look out to the hazy ocean outstretched, the soft light from the still rising sun. Look down to the jagged rocks below, and the deep blue water. I’m not sure if I crawled out over the edge on my own, or if I was pushed. All my brain can register is the feeling of freefalling, of entering the water, of sinking down below.
Patreon
Well, that... escalated quick
its all coming together