Forgive Me by Kateri Stanley (love letters to the dead txt) 📗

better, brother. I thought the chair would bring back happy memories. He always made us play in this room when we’d done something bad.”

Stripe watched Isaac’s expression crumble with realisation. “We can play,” she said, pressing her stare into Isaac’s skull, his cheek twitched as he looked at her. Be with me. We have to stay alive.

Freak stared at them, taking a step back from Isaac. “Great. Then I’ll start with the fresher question. Are you a journalist?”

“Yes,” Stripe replied.

Freak clapped jovially; her eyes raced up to the screens every few seconds. “Now, that wasn't so hard was it. Now it's your turn, lover boy. What is your real name?”

“Isaac Payne.”

“Wrong!” Freak sung. “That is incorrect, lover boy. This is what happens for being a liar.” He pointed the device at Stripe.

“No!” Isaac shouted.

She didn't know what was happening at first until the pain shot through her. Her muscles spasmed, it burned circles around her wrists and ankles.

“Leave her alone!”

The pain was turned off like a tap and Stripe heard her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. Dad used to electrocute them. How could he do this?

“You’ve got your father to blame. It was his invention,” Freak said. “He used to love strapping me into this chair.” He spat at her feet. “Disgusting!”

“I’m, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Anger flamed in Freak’s eyes. “You’re sorry? No, I don’t think so. You don’t get to talk, you don’t get to apologise. We’re playing my game.” He taunted her with the remote in his hand. “We’re doing what I want, unless you want me to cut your mommy’s throat. Do you want that?”

“No. Please.”

“So I’ll ask your lover boy again. What is your real name?”

Isaac's lips trembled as if he was holding back poison from spilling out. “I-I-Isaac, Blair.”

“Very good.” Freak smirked, staring at Stripe. “Question two, was your father a good man?”

The question hurt more than the electricity did. She'd been wrestling with this question for the past year and a half. Answer, or they'll die. Her lips trembled as her throat tightened. “No...”

“Did he deserve to die?” Freak pressed.

Stripe glanced back at Isaac; he shook his head. Don’t answer.

“Yes,” she replied, not taking her eyes off him.

Freak smirked. “Wow, I'm shocked you answered so honestly. I was expecting to give your boyfriend a few zaps to get that out of you.” He moved over to Isaac and dropped to one knee, to a stranger it could’ve been seen as a caring gesture. “Why did they make us like this?”

“They wanted to create a stronger, faster, invisible, lethal soldier.”

“But I can’t be. Not anymore.” Freak pulled up his shirt, revealing his abdomen, a section by his hip was covered by a bandage, it was weeping yellow with rose red stains. “I’m losing it. I can’t heal like I used to. What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know,” Isaac replied. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? What are we?”

“We’re, we’re perfect.”

Chapter Forty-Three

My heart is screaming out for him and the rage I feel for this creature is dark and twisted. He thinks the threat of an electric current will break me. My hands work on the bounds, he's gotten me good. He must know how strong I am, but these restraints won't keep me imprisoned forever. I haven't felt darkness like this in me since I stared over the bed of your father with my axe in hand, the mask over my face. The spirit of the lumberjack webbing in every fibre of my being.

After I escaped, your father must have felt Kaltheia and the hidden mission still had some heartbeat left. Playing a simple game of Truth was a way to break us down, make us submit to him. Beating a child senseless, starving and torturing them was fine for round two and he roped this poor child in to replace me. I can see the hurt in his eyes, he was innocent at one point and now - look at him. I could’ve fallen, tumbled into his dark and lonely tunnel if I'd swam in it any longer.

I don't like the way he's staring at you. It's too familiar. I can feel the hatred in him yet it's aimed at the wrong person. He should be angry with me, I took Kaltheia out so they couldn't hurt anyone else. If I'd kept a couple of them alive, Victoria or Paul perhaps, destroying them would’ve saved him.

Some of my fingers are free now and I watch how he shouts. I can't do anything as he points the remote. The rage in me bubbles when you scream from the electric chair. He stands exactly like your father, pointing the remote in a similar fashion, even muttering utterances the way Peter did. You try to plead with him and he slaps you again. I shout out instinctively. His attention snaps, his gaze turns to me. I hold him, pulling him away and he follows the unconscious command.

“Please don't do this.” My hands dance behind my back. “It’s unfair. Stripe’s not strong enough for it.”

I glance over to see your head is hanging, I can see the light in your eyes fading. The flame I fell in love with is losing. Don’t give up on me now. Please, Stripe. Stay with me. Fight this. You have to.

He stares at me quizzically. “You’re right, it’s not fair. But when was it fair for me? Where was the justice for my suffering?”

“It wasn’t fair, there was no justice because they never told anyone what they were doing. We were secret scientific experiments. I understand why you’re angry, I am too but Stripe, her mom, my parents are not the ones to blame for this. You’ve got this entire situation wired wrong.”

“Have I?” He quips and slashes his fingernails against my cheek. My skin breaks open from the impact, warm blood seeps from the cuts. He watches and begins to smile as my skin regenerates, closing up as good as new. “How did