The Sad Farewell
The end came with a storm of steel and sorrow. The warehouse by the sea sagged under the weight of the monsoon, its rust-covered walls wet from the rain. Police, mercenaries, and remnants of the family swamped in, their screams heard over the crashing waves, flashlights cutting through the darkness. There was a fight on the outskirts of Hell, Phoenix pounding his way out, with shades of violence wetting the rain, and he was the demon who ripped that cop with a machete, letting out a *rip* that cut right through the flesh and spilled the insides out as if an aftermath of some butcher's work. Blood spattering down those wounds, organs tumbling into what he had to admit had become a pretty decent pool of red in the silent dark around him in the rain, blanketed against the screams in the storm. "You'll never cage her!" was the final charge that ended with his cutting through another's jugular, so much blood gushing out, crimson arcing as in a lover's sigh, body stumbling into a shipping crate.
He replied in kind, moving after her and taking the present mercenary with a jerk of the shard in her hand and the only reward she got was the release that cruelly painted her white saree with red, though kindred spirits of heart danced in a spiral of serenity between them. "For you, mera deewana," her breath almost faded, her hair plastered to her facedown--but it was lost in the din. She roared inside, breathing piercing the building chaos, translating into action--the vision for collateral debts against their love. The tide turned as a bullet whispered into her, the red bloom an instant across her breast. She was hurled back, blood bubbling at her lips, her eyes locked on him, aligning with her collapsing unconsciousness. "I'm yours," she whispered as she felt herself falling into his arms, her life escaping ever quickly from her body while she tried on his futility, his beautiful failure.