Callum’s Hell

by Mason, V. F.

  “Quiet!” Then she barks at the guards, “Dig deeper!” They do so, and she warns me, “You will die tonight, and I will put it to rest. And let’s hope precious Callum doesn’t come… or I’ll kill him too.”

  Does she even know she’s dealing with a serial killer?

  And oh, he will come after me; I have no doubt. After all, the monster considers me his and won’t ever allow anyone to harm me.

  Ironically, he’s the only one who has truly hurt me.

  Finally, I feel the lock twist, and the cuff snaps open. I throw more chiffon over it, feeling my pulse in my throat from the anticipation rushing through me.

  I need to grab someone’s gun and escape. But at the same moment I think that, a guard rushes to us, screaming, “They’re coming!”

  “Fuck,” Martina says, and orders, “Help them out until more help comes. I’ll finish here myself.” They nod, climb out of the hole, and run with the guy while Martina removes the safety from the gun and raises her brow.

  “The end is here, Giselle. Think about your sins before you go to heaven.”

  Sins, my ass.

  If only.

  Maybe if I had been a sinner, every single person in my life wouldn’t have manipulated me and destroyed pieces of my soul that I’ll never get back.

  Callum.

  A monster who made me fall in love with him, only to use it to his sick advantage over a revenge twenty-five years in the making.

  Callum

  “Speed up!” I shout at Santiago, punching the dashboard of the car and bending it a little with the impact.

  He gives me a sideways glance before pressing the pedal harder. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

  “Not fast enough!” I snap, barely controlling myself from shooting him for staying this calm while chaos erupts inside me, ruling my every instinct.

  Fear has spread into my veins and settled there, awakening the small boy once again who felt completely hopeless.

  My beautiful Giselle trapped with a mad woman who wants to do God knows what to her.

  Why fucking bitches, who play the mother roles well but beneath that role mask their madness, won’t leave me or my woman alone is beyond me.

  But with her actions, she has sealed her fate.

  “We’re almost there.” Santiago turns right, the tires screeching, and we lean to the left, so I grab the handle, steading myself. “In three seconds, to be exact.” But then he leans forward a bit and scrunches his eyes. “Well fuck, we have company.” I notice two black minivans with seven men hanging around them, holding guns. “Where did she even hire those idiots?” he wonders aloud, while I remove the safety on my gun and stash extra bullets in my pocket.

  Santiago whistles. “With her research on your background, she has some balls creating this plan and hiring these guys.” He passes the guards and swings the car back around in a speedy circle, distracting them, and they give us baffled stares. “Showtime,” he singsongs, and I fist my hand not to deck him.

  From behind me, Arson rolls down his window, and the wind rushes in and hits us all in the face. “Let the fun begin,” he murmurs, right before firing at the van where the gas tank is, causing fuel to spill on the concrete.

  The guards shout something before firing shots too, but Santiago stays unconcerned since his car is bulletproof. “For fuck’s sake, Arson! At least wait till I can park and join the fun,” he whines, and I fucking swear I should have come here alone.

  These two assholes live for any kind of excitement; maybe that’s why they both jumped into the car with me, claiming I needed them.

  I’ve never needed anyone in my life… until Giselle. My light in the darkness that shines brightly, warming me in my underworld kingdom where only the dead exist.

  “Well, fuck.” Arson slaps my shoulder and points at the end of the road, where two more cars are driving our way with two guys hanging from the front seats and firing at us.

  What the fuck did that bitch promise these fuckers that so many showed up? And did she plan a fucking war or something?

  Santiago twists the car again, so our backs are facing them, and I can’t stand it anymore. “I don’t give a fuck. I need to get to her.” Santiago stops abruptly, with his side of the car facing the guns.

  I jump from the car with Arson following me while Santiago climbs over the console, joining us on the concrete, while they continue to fire at the car, which now works as a shield for us.

  “Gotta say that’s a hell of a walk down memory lane,” he says before loading his gun and peeking around the car bumper, firing, and coming back, pressing his back to the car. “One down, but there are about fifteen or more of them.”

  “I’ll kill them all,” I growl, ready to emerge and fucking shoot anyone in my way. I have to get to Giselle. If Martina hired all these guys, what the fuck has she planned for Giselle? Especially since she has nothing to lose at this point?

  With her brand of crazy, every minute counts.

  She won’t take away my wild orchid.

  Arson slaps my shoulder and pushes me down. “You’ll get yourself killed, and then you won’t be able to help her. Think rationally.”

  Bullets ricochet off the panels as the shooters jump out of their cars.

  “There is no other choice.”

  “You are a loner. That’s why you think there is no choice,” Santiago says, replacing his magazine and nodding at Arson. “We’ll go in front firing and drawing their attention. You dash straight to the gate, killing them on your way, of course. We will cover you.”

  “And die because of me? No thanks.” I can’t believe we’re wasting precious minutes on this this conversation. I rise up again, and they both do the same, but block my insistence to run. “What’s more important, your way or Giselle?” Arson asks, and I growl, agreeing with him.

  If I get a bullet in my head, I won’t be saving anyone.

  “All right.” We all use the guns in our hands, and another series of bullets are fired, this time more, and I glance over my shoulder. They’re moving closer. “Now,” I bark, and Santiago and Arson go in front, while I follow them, as we fire at the guys and duck their bullets.

  The gate is several feet away from me, and no one is guarding it, all the strength wasted on the front.

  Fire. Fire. Fire.

  The men drop to the ground, but it doesn’t stop others who shout, “Get them!” And fucking men are still ready to shoot us. We are able to duck the bullets, but it can only last for so long.

  “When I get inside, come after me,” I order the guys, but they say nothing, focused on their targets.

  But then one of guards rushes forward and fires straight at Arson, who curses, “Fuck.” The bullet enters his shoulder, and I snatch him back to the nearest oak tree. “Arson?”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbles, but I see blood spreading through his shirt, and it’s not only his shoulder. His fucking stomach too.

  Santiago is holding the fire, shooting three of them dead, and they step back while he hides behind another tree on the other side of the road.

  Thank fuck for Walker’s love for nature.

  Arson winces but pushes off the tree, gritting through his clenched teeth. “I’m good. We have no time.” He raises his hand to Santiago, who switches the magazine and nods at us. He clicks two fingers and is about to spin to shoot, with Arson doing the same, when a different kind of gunfire erupts. The guards shout loudly, yelling to go back inside the mansion.

  What the hell?

  We share a look across the perimeter, and my eyes widen when I see Jaxon firing guns along with his siblings Killian, Duncan, and Douglas, while their men line up cars behind them, rushing out to help.

  Thank fuck!

  “Go,” Arson says, pushing me in the right direction, and I give him one last squeeze before darting to the gate, with Killian yelling, “Inside!” I pass by them and see Tony, Jaxon’s right-hand man and a medic. “Arson is shot.” He nods, running to the tree, and everything else
is a blur, because I finally fly through the gates.

  That’s when I hear a scream and my heart stops.

  Giselle

  “Too many shots,” Martina screeches so loudly I’m afraid my ears will fall off. “Should have known those idiots wouldn’t be able to handle it.” She comes to me and fists my hair, pulling at it so hard tears form in my eyes. “Don’t send a sheep to do a wolf’s job.” She drags me to the hole, all while chanting, “Finally, finally. The legacy will be mine.”

  The gun is pressed to my side, so I comply with her and twist the cuffs in my hands, pretending to still be wearing them.

  When we reach the hole, she steps away to get the shovel and orders, “Jump in.” I almost laugh in her face. Is she really so delusional she thinks I will comply with it?

  “Go fuck yourself, Martina,” I tell her, removing the cuffs and throwing them in the hole.

  She wraps her hands around the gun, ready to shoot, but I beat her to it, snatching the shovel under my feet and hitting her arm holding the gun.

  She stumbles and falls on her back, her loud scream echoing through the garden, causing birds to take flight.

  Throwing away the shovel, I see a man running to us in the distance and recognize Callum.

  Did he come to finish the job?

  My mind is so dizzy still and a jumbled mess from all the truths discovered. I need to get away from this place, away from all these people.

  Fisting the skirts of my red ballroom dress, I run through the garden, my bare feet barely audible in the perfectly cut grass that scratches against my skin.

  My brown locks cascade down my spine and blow back from the wind as the veil coronet made of orchids and roses entwined together slides a little, tugging on my hair.

  A mark that forever stains me.

  Because with this marriage, Callum wanted to dish his revenge on me.

  I hear his voice behind me, a deep and husky sound that haunts me in my dreams and catches me in my nightmares.

  Stifling back a groan of pain, I speed up my pace, ignoring the protests from every bone in my body.

  Stopping means losing and losing means dying, those are the rules in his twisted game we’ve been playing for so long I’ve lost count of time.

  Or maybe I should say their game? All of them played my life like their personal toy, raising the stakes against each other while wanting to destroy their opponents.

  And the grand prize was always me… all the people who claimed to love me, lied to me.

  I pass by various bushes, trees, and flowers with scents that surround me and slip into my nose, reminding me that my love for them became my ultimate downfall.

  It’s a shame something so beautiful is smeared in dirt that no one will be able to clean.

  I gaze ahead and finally see the gates, wide open and waiting for me just to fly through them to my freedom. Like the gates of Hades that hide from the monster living in the underworld.

  Those who stay here burn in the fire of his creation.

  Let them all live here with their vengeance that fuels their blood, locked in the castle that never brought me anything but pain.

  My breathing heaves. Drawing on all my self-control, I continue to run, even when he shouts louder behind me, “Giselle.” There is a note lacing his voice that I don’t recognize, yet it sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me that no one goes against his will and lives.

  But any freedom, even in death, is better than the prison he has created on earth for me.

  None of my thoughts are rational right now. I don’t listen to the nagging in my head that begs me to stop and run back to him, to the only safety I’ve ever known in this life. But he betrayed me too, didn’t he?

  Used me in this game to take back his rightful place that always belonged to him.

  Giselle Walker… or whatever my real name is… was never loved for who she was.

  I was always loved as a replacement for someone who died a long time ago.

  Isn’t that tragic? Sacrificing my happiness for my loved ones only to discover they all stabbed me in my back somehow.

  A slight smile curves my lips when I reach the concrete, my feet slapping against it while the heat in it burns my skin, but I don’t care.

  Not when I’m so close to escaping this hell.

  The monster lives in the castle of his own creation, after all; he won’t be able to follow me.

  My hand is extended, ready to touch the gate, when a gunshot echoes in the night sending the birds flying up in chaos, squawking loudly as they’re snapped from their calm.

  The air hitches in my throat and I freeze on the spot, my raspy breath filling the night. A sharp pain travels from my lower back through my entire system as dizziness overtakes me.

  I fall on my knees, groaning in agony while the gates ahead of me become blurrier and blurrier, taking me farther and farther away from my escape.

  “My back,” I murmur, barely finding the strength to utter those words. I reach behind me and then look at my hand, noticing blood coating it.

  How could he have done this to me? “He shot me in the back.”

  He promised me he’d never harm me…

  The minute the words slip past my lips, I hear his hurried footsteps, and he drops beside me, his hand fisting my hair and bringing me closer to him, until his cheek is resting against mine.

  “What have you done, Giselle?”

  I stifle a whimper and hold back the tears that yearn to slide down my cheeks and wash away the hurt he always inflicts.

  Hades caught his Persephone once again.

  And just like in the myth, he will lock her away from the world and make her live permanently in his hell.

  Or so I think.

  Slowly, all the strength leaves me as I slip to the side, right into his arms. I exhale carefully, the pain so strong I’m afraid to even breathe. But in all this craziness, a smile settles on my face, because the nightmare is finally over.

  No one won.

  No one lost.

  In this twisted myth of his creation, no one got what they wanted, and that’s probably the most tragic story of all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Callum

  “Giselle,” I whisper, holding her in my arms, her blood coating my white shirt and hands, her face pale as she breathes heavily.

  I’m ready to roar at anyone inflicting pain on her, my beautiful, wild orchid plucked out of the earth, ready to die.

  I look behind us and see the guard who shot her coming closer as he trains his gun on me, ready to shoot. “First your bitch, and then you,” he muses. I reach for my gun so I can shoot the fucker and then spit on him too, but I realize it’s a few feet away from me, because I dropped it when Giselle got shot.

  No weapon to protect us.

  If I shift just an inch, it might damage Giselle’s chances of surviving. My guys probably killed everyone off; they will find her.

  It’s better I die than risk Giselle’s chances. Death is not difficult if it means saving her.

  Instead of watching the man, I give my whole attention to Giselle while her sapphire eyes study me as if in wonder, and I hate that my last memory of her will be this.

  Her in pain, because of me.

  If I had never shown up in her life, then she would never have been hurt.

  My beautiful, beloved woman.

  I open my mouth to say the words to her that I just couldn’t say before, so she will know what she means to me, when gunfire erupts.

  And nothing happens.

  Frowning, I tear my gaze away from Giselle and see the guard dropping, still holding a gun, and behind him, a few feet away, stands Santiago with an unreadable expression as he flips his gun back.

  It seems like we are friends after all.

  Giselle

  I’m cold, so cold.

  Along with the pain, I can feel how iciness slips into my blood, moving through my system while I barely breathe from the pressure on my back. “It’s okay, Gi
selle. Don’t close your eyes,” Callum orders, looming above me while he holds me still in his arms.

  A smile curves my lips, but then agony hits me so hard it changes to a wince and I whimper.

  “I know it hurts, baby. The ambulance is on the way.” His thumb rubs my cheek gently, and for the first time ever, I see something incredible.

  His dark brown eyes fill with tears as the drops fall on me, for a second making me feel alive.

  I can feel his pain as my own with every fiber of my being, and the love that he has for me. For a moment, I’m surrounded with it, in his arms that provide nothing but warmth.

  How could I have ever believed Martina? He might be a true Walker among us, but our relationship has nothing to do with it.

  We are like two lost souls, drifting in this world, not belonging to anyone, too afraid to give our love freely without facing the consequences.

  However, both of us found the emotion together, locking us in a bond that nothing would have broken.

  Did I really think I could ever leave him? The moment he entered my life, I became his till I cease to exist. My heart is forever his, even if it’s not the ending I wanted for us.

  But the cold inevitably slips in, even in this embrace, along with more dizziness. Using all the strength I have left, I raise my hand and softly run my fingers along his chin. “Callum—” I whisper, but he shakes his head.

  “Don’t talk, baby. Just breathe and keep your eyes open.” There is desperation and… fear in his voice, and in his hands as they squeeze me tighter.

  My scared warrior.

  “I love you,” I say, because that’s the most important thing right now. I want him to know that despite everything, there is a person who loves him unconditionally with all his past and darkness, where he is accepted as he is without the need to sacrifice his soul.

  He might have a black heart that will forever bleed, but even the darkest of hearts want love that soothes them.

  Of their own accord, my eyes roll back, and oblivion claims me, taking me to a place where cold, pain, fear, and regret don’t exist.

  In our twisted myth… Persephone dies, followed by a broken cry from Hades.