Chapter 42: Finding Elizabeth
"By the way, Peter," Alex said as he walked out of the bathroom, drenched. "Is there any news the battle?" He asked him.
"Yeah, it was all over the news but before the security men and heros arrived at the scene, I made sure to take you out of the place. My father has been buried, I guess it should be same for the Dean and Elizabeth’s father," Peter replied.
"Okay," Alex mumbled and went ahead to put on some clothes.
After he was done, Peter stood up to leave. "I have some things to deal with it, I’ll come back later to check on you."
"No, that isn’t necessary," Alex waved his hand. "I am fine now, I can take care of myself so go do your thing — Don’t bother about me."
"Are you sure?" Peter asked him.
"I can’t be more sure," Alex replied and so Peter shrugged his shoulders and then left afterwards.
Now Alex was all alone but he it didn’t take long after Peter left and he stood up and also left.
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The cemetery was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the cold evening breeze. The sky overhead was tinged with hues of deep orange and fading purple, the last remnants of sunlight slipping beneath the horizon. Rows upon rows of headstones stretched across the land, each one a reminder of those long gone, their names carved into stone as if that alone could keep them from being forgotten.
Alex walked through the graveyard with measured steps, his hands buried in his pockets. His body still ached from the battle, but the pain was secondary to the heavy weight pressing down on his chest. He had been here before but today felt different.
Today, he had something to say.
His footsteps slowed as he approached a familiar grave, the one he had visited before. The headstone was simple yet well-kept, his mother’s name etched neatly across it.
Alex crouched down, reaching out to brush away the fallen leaves that had gathered at the base of the stone. His fingers traced over the carved letters, as if the simple action could somehow bridge the distance between them.
"Hey, Mom," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s been a while."
Silence greeted him, but he wasn’t expecting an answer. He had never expected one.
Alex let out a slow breath and sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His eyes flickered toward the darkening sky as he gathered his thoughts.
"I did it," he said finally. "I finally avenged you and Dad." His throat tightened as he spoke the words aloud. "Peter’s father... he’s dead. The man who framed Dad, the one who destroyed our family is gone, I killed him, all of them."
A long pause stretched between him and the grave. The wind picked up slightly, rustling the grass around him.
"I thought it would feel different," Alex admitted. "Like I’d wake up and suddenly the world would make sense again. But it doesn’t. It still feels so empty." He swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists. "I spent so much time thinking about revenge, and now that it’s over, I don’t know what comes next."
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool air wash over him. His mind replayed everything that had happened—his battles, his near-death experiences, the secrets he had uncovered. His father had been innocent, but that hadn’t saved him. His mother had been caught in the crossfire of a war she never asked to be a part of.
And Alex? He had become something else entirely.
"There’s more," he continued after a moment. "A lot more. I don’t even know where to start. I’ve changed, Mom. I’m not the same person I was before. I can do things now, things I don’t fully understand. I’ve fought monsters, real ones, and I’ve killed people." His jaw tightened. "I had to and the truth is that, I will continue to do it as long as I must."
He let his head fall back against the headstone, staring blankly at the darkening sky.
"I met people along the way," he added. "Peter... he’s a good friend, you know him, right? He’s probably the only one I have left. Elizabeth too but she’s... complicated, but she’s still here. Barely though. I don’t know if she’ll ever fight again." He hesitated before adding, "And then there’s Lilac. She tried to kill me. More than once. But she’s dead now."
His fingers dug into the dirt beside him. "So is Teacher Martin."
The words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken.
"I don’t regret it," he admitted, his voice steady. "I had no choice."
Another gust of wind blew past, and for a brief moment, it almost felt like someone was there, watching him.
Alex sighed. "I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now," he confessed. "For so long, I thought revenge was the only thing that mattered. But now that it’s done, what’s left?"
He fell silent, listening to the distant sound of leaves rustling in the breeze.
A part of him wished his mother could answer him. That she could tell him what to do next, guide him like she used to when he was little. But there was no answer, only the quiet stillness of the graveyard.
After a long while, Alex finally moved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white flower—one he had picked up on the way here. Carefully, he placed it at the base of the gravestone, smoothing the petals with his fingertips.
"I’ll figure it out," he said quietly. "I don’t know how yet, but I will."
As Alex stood up and took a step back from his mother’s grave, a sharp pain shot through his stomach, the wound he had sustained during the battle still lingered, a brutal reminder of how close he had come to death. He gritted his teeth and pressed a hand against his abdomen. His body was weak and drained.
He needed strength.
His fingers curled into fists as he glanced around the graveyard. This place was filled with death, the air thick with the remnants of those long gone. Beneath his feet lay countless corpses, their decayed bodies buried beneath layers of dirt and stone. And with them, an abundance of dark energy, energy he could take.
Alex took a slow breath, closing his eyes as he reached out, not with his hands, but with something deeper, something within him.
And then, he felt it.
A slow, creeping sensation slithered beneath his skin, like shadows coiling around his bones. The energy in the graveyard stirred at his call, rising from the earth in a silent, unseen storm. It was cold, heavier than before, and as it rushed toward him, he braced himself for the familiar pull.
The moment the energy entered him, his body jolted. A shudder ran down his spine as the dark essence wrapped around his injuries, sinking into his wounds like a balm. The torn flesh on his stomach stitched itself back together in an instant, the lingering soreness vanishing as raw power flooded his veins.
His senses sharpened. The night grew clearer, every sound crisper, every scent more distinct. His muscles no longer ached, and the exhaustion that had weighed him down moments ago had disappeared entirely.
Alex exhaled, his breath forming a thin mist in the cool air. The cemetery felt quieter now, as if the very ground had been drained of its last remnants of energy.
He clenched his fists, flexing his fingers, testing his renewed strength. This was better. He could move freely again, fight again... Do whatever he wants again.
His next plan was finding Elizabeth.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the graveyard behind.
