Chapter 39: Ending Things
Alex held Elizabeth tightly as her body trembled against his — Everything seemed to have come to a halt. The warmth was already fading from her skin, replaced by a chilling stillness that tore through him like a blade. Her breaths grew shallow, weaker with every passing second.
"No... Stay with me," he whispered, sounding desperate. Blood smeared her lips as she tried to speak, but no sound came.
His heart pounded in his chest, wild and uncontrollable while the world around him seemed to blur. None of it made sense. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to her.
"Elizabeth!" His voice cracked as he shook her gently, as if that alone could keep her alive. "You can’t die. You’re stronger than this, you can’t just—"
But her eyes, once filled with fire and defiance, were dimming. Her fingers curled weakly into his shirt as if she didn’t want to let go.
"I..." Her voice was barely a breath. "I’m... sorry..."
And then—nothing.
Her hand slipped away.
The fragile thread of her life snapped, leaving only an empty stillness in its place.
For a heartbeat, the world stood still.
Alex’s breath froze in his lungs. Something inside him, something vital shattered. The ache in his chest swelled, fierce and all-consuming, until it became too much.
A deep, primal rage surged through him—a rage he had never known.
His vision burned black and red as his heart slammed against his ribs. The world trembled beneath him, and something dark and ancient stirred deep inside.
"You... killed her."
His voice was cold and lifeless.
A surge of raw energy exploded from him, crackling through the air like a thunderstorm. The ground beneath him splintered, jagged cracks spidering outward as the weight of his fury shook the construction site.
Mr. Gustavo, still alight with flames, stepped back, sensing the sudden shift. For the first time, there was hesitation in his eyes.
But it was too late.
Alex’s powers once restrained snapped free. The necromantic energy pulsed through his veins, dark and unstoppable, as the hunger within him awakened fully.
A nearby corpse, one of the masked attackers twitched violently, its limbs jerking unnaturally before rising to its feet. The lifeless body turned its hollow gaze on Mr. Gustavo.
And it wasn’t alone.
More bodies stirred, every fallen enemy, every corpse on the battlefield, answering Alex’s call. Black tendrils of necrotic energy wrapped around them, pulling them from death’s grasp and bending them to his will.
Mr. Gustavo growled, hurling a blast of fire toward Alex but the flames never reached him. The risen dead surged forward, their charred hands clawing through the fire as if it were nothing.
Alex stood, his eyes glowing with a cold, eerie light. The air around him grew heavy with death, the scent of decay thickening as his army advanced.
"You took her from me," he said, his voice hollow and cold. "Now I’ll take everything from you."
The corpses struck with brutal force, clawing and tearing through Mr. Gustavo’s defenses. His fire flared wildly as he tried to incinerate them, but for every one he destroyed, two more took its place.
Alex stepped forward, his heart pounding with unrelenting fury. His hands trembled with the sheer force of his power, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t just about survival anymore.
It was about vengeance.
With a flick of his wrist, the golden magical dagger appeared in his hand, pulsing with deadly energy. The ground quaked beneath his steps as he advanced on Mr. Gustavo, the corpses parting to clear his path.
"You burned her," Alex hissed, his grip tightening on the dagger. "Now it’s your turn to burn."
In a blur of speed, he closed the distance. Mr. Gustavo barely had time to react before Alex struck. The dagger pierced his side, and black energy surged from the blade, searing through flesh and bone.
Mr. Gustavo roared in agony as the necrotic energy spread through him, draining the life from his body. His flames sputtered, flickering weaker with every passing second.
Alex didn’t stop.
Grief and rage fueled his every movement as he drove the dagger deeper, twisting it cruelly. Mr. Gustavo staggered, his strength failing as the life was ripped from him until, finally, the fire in his eyes died.
His body crumpled to the ground, motionless.
But even with his enemy defeated, the fury inside Alex did not fade. His heart pounded in his chest, the ache of Elisabeth’s loss still raw and unbearable.
He dropped to his knees beside her lifeless form, the dagger slipping from his fingers.
"Why...?" His voice trembled, broken.
But there was no answer. Only the cold silence of death.
And for the first time, Alex felt truly alone.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he knelt beside Elizabeth’s lifeless body, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails cut into his palms. The power coursing through him wasn’t fading. If anything, it was growing, swelling like a tidal wave, demanding more.
But it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough not until everyone responsible for her death paid the price.
A faint, deliberate clap echoed through the night.
Alex lifted his head, his glowing eyes narrowing as his gaze locked on the Dean. The man stood a few feet away, shards of ice melting from his suit, the remnants of Elizabeth’s final act of defiance. His face, usually so composed, was marred by a thin trail of blood at the corner of his mouth.
"You’re stronger than I expected," the Dean said, his voice as calm as ever. "But strength without control is nothing more than a child’s tantrum."
Alex rose to his feet, his hands trembling with fury. The corpses he had raised shifted behind him, their empty eyes locked on the Dean, waiting for his command.
"You think this is a tantrum?" His voice was cold, distant, barely his own. "You killed her. You stood there and watched while she died."
The Dean tilted his head slightly. "Her death was unfortunate," he admitted, brushing a speck of ice from his shoulder. "But she chose her side. And now, you’ve chosen yours."
A cruel smile curved his lips. "I wonder—how much more will you lose before this is over?"
Something inside Alex snapped.
Without a word, he thrust his hand forward, and the corpses lunged.
The Dean was faster than a normal man had any right to be. He twisted out of the way of the first attacker, his hand flicking out to shatter the second with a burst of invisible force. But for every corpse he destroyed, another took its place, clawing and grasping with relentless hunger.
Alex didn’t wait. He moved with them, his body a blur as he closed the distance between them.
The Dean barely had time to raise his hand before Alex was on him, the golden dagger gleaming in the moonlight as it slashed toward his throat.
The blade missed by a hair’s breadth as the Dean dodged, retaliating with a crushing wave of energy. It slammed into Alex’s chest, sending him skidding backward but he barely felt it. The pain, the exhaustion, all of it was swallowed by the storm raging inside him.
"You’re still holding back," the Dean remarked, his voice smooth despite the blood trickling down his chin. "Do you think she’d want you to become a monster for her?"
Alex’s vision burned red.
"You don’t get to talk about her," he growled.
He stretched out his hand, and the ground trembled beneath them. From the cracked earth, black tendrils of necrotic energy burst forth, wrapping around the Dean’s ankles, locking him in place.
For the first time, a flicker of alarm crossed the older man’s face.
Alex didn’t hesitate.
In a flash, he was in front of the Dean, driving his fist into his stomach with enough force to make the man cough blood. Before the Dean could recover, Alex grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with inhuman strength.
"You don’t understand," Alex said quietly, his voice vibrating with power. "I’m not holding back anymore."
The Dean struggled, his hands glowing as he tried to break free but Alex’s grip only tightened. The energy pulsing through him grew colder, darker, feeding on his rage and grief.
"You think you’re above consequences," Alex continued, his tone eerily calm. "You use people like pieces on a board and when they’re no longer useful, you discard them." His eyes flashed with fury.
The black tendrils crept higher, wrapping around the Dean’s arms, constricting like snakes. The air grew heavy with death—thick and suffocating.
The Dean’s composure cracked. "If you kill me," he rasped, "you become no better than the monsters you fight against."
Alex’s grip never wavered. "I don’t care."
With a final, merciless twist of his hand, the necrotic energy surged into the Dean’s body. His eyes widened in shock and pain as the life was drained from him. His skin withering, his bones cracking under the pressure.
And then, with a shuddering gasp, the Dean’s body fell limp. The once-imposing man, who had orchestrated so much suffering, was nothing more than a lifeless husk in Alex’s grasp.
He let the corpse drop to the ground without a second glance.
The power still surged through him, demanding more, but there was nothing left to destroy.
Only silence and her absence.
Alex turned back to Elizabeth’s motionless form. His hands trembled as he knelt beside her once more, the overwhelming rush of power fading to a dull, aching void.
"I’m sorry..." His voice cracked as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I was too late."
But no matter how much power he wielded, no matter how many enemies he defeated—he couldn’t bring her back. And that truth shattered him more than anything else ever could.
