“Tell me that you love me!” Her scream echoed after me, bouncing inside my head where it rang like condemning church bells. Religion is ghastly.
But I did turn to stare back town the tunnel at that ghost-like image. Yes, a ghost, that was all she was to me now. The nameless gits that soldiered her were more real than the pale face splashed with the filth she’d been hiding in for weeks. “Love you?” I asked, almost laughed really. “I did, once. When you, as your siren-bitch self corrupted me and dragged me so far from my path as to nearly dismember me. Ohhh, you had me lost long enough to toy with me. But still love you?” I did laugh this time. “No, I won’t lie to you as you have to me. I won’t tell you I love you. I don’t. Sink your vicious claws into some other turned back. Rip the flesh from some other unsuspecting victim that you manipulate.”
“If you loved me then, you can forgive me now!” Once that voice chased demons away from my frayed heart.
“Forgiveness? You want forgiveness? Very well, I forgive you. Now, take her to justice. She has crimes to answer for.” I turned then and walked away from the beacon of my spirit. It was broken now, useless. Behind me I heard the struggle of a woman in strife with the nameless guards; the woman was screaming a name. I let the sounds drown out under the soles of my shoes slapping the wet tunnel bottom. Love… so few understood the depths.