by K. Weikel
Chapter 28
Finding out she that was right about her being the next Leader of the Clans does not make Becca happy. It just makes her even more afraid. Everything he’s telling her…
“And then I found you again. You had just turned five that night I followed you into the alleyway. You had no idea… You hated your mask. I didn’t understand why. When you took it off, I panicked. You couldn’t be sent to the Dark Clan. Not yet. It wasn’t time. You were wrong…” Banshee’s eyes bore into Becca’s, the world tilting around her as she tries to process all of the information Banshee is giving her.
“The ceremony.” He says abruptly. “The ceremony is when it happened. You had to choose it. I couldn’t let you… no… the—the people! But you didn’t. You chose wrong. You chose wrong, Becca Reed!” Banshee takes a step back and puts a hand to his head, the other one still hidden beneath his long sleeve.
“And then I made up my mind. I would force you to come to the Dark Clan. I stole a mask and killed that man, and then blamed it on you. It was my birthday present to you. Don’t you like how it turned out?”
Becca jumps at Banshee, clawing at him and trying to hit him, but he manages to sit her back down.
“You!” She cries, anger raging through every fiber in her body. “Why would I like the way all of this turned out? You’re the one that ruined my life!”
“Oh, but there’s more,” Banshee says, holding her down by the shoulders. He laughs once and smirks as he stands back up. His eyes look down at her, two walls holding back secrets and regrets untold to the world.
No wonder why the grown-ups hide their eyes. They’re so full of sorrow and wishful thinking and rue…
“The boxes, although technically a gift from me, were placed for you by someone else. Someone that didn’t know you before you were a black mask. The same someone that you shot dead after he paid you a visit.”
“Twitch,” Becca breathes. “That’s how you got my mask…”
“Isn’t it all fitting together nicely?” Banshee says with a slow smile.
“But what about the last box?” Becca asks, feeling that alternate personality with infinite confidence creep back into her system. “Who put that at my doorstep?”
Banshee smiles and opens his arms wide in pride. “Who else?”
“Why?” Becca asks. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you’re special, Becca. You’re different. And that’s why you need to die.”
He pulls a gun out from under his sleeve and points it at Becca. His face is hard as a rock and his arm is steady as a stream. The sound of Becca’s heartbeat crescendos as she stares down the hole where the bullet comes out.
“Today is the day you are alone. Today is the day you will need me.” He tosses the gun and it clatters on the wooden floor, skidding across the floor a small ways before stopping. “You were supposed to die. In that Masking Ceremony. But you didn’t because of that boy, Eduard. What a smart kid. Knew what I believed.
“I found his journal. I memorized the words he wrote down. Except I knew comfort. I knew why I had comfort. You were safe from that man, safe from the man with the knife.”
“But not from you,” Becca hisses, still glaring at the man in front of her, but glad Eduard has nothing to do with the boxes.
“Becca!” He says, shocked and hurt. “You are completely safe with me!”
“I beg to differ! You want me dead!”
“No, no, no, no… I don’t want you dead. I just want to make sure the future is right, is on track. That the dream goes according to plan.”
“Dream?” Becca laughs once, feeling blood rush to her head as she steps on dangerous territory. “What about a dream can be so real that you actually believe it?”
“The symbolism.”
“Oh, please, Banshee—”
“I had a dream that you stood before our nation. That you stood without a mask. That you had an army behind you, waiting for your command. I saw destruction, I saw war, I saw people dying—all because of you. All because of what you started. All because you were next in line to become the Leader of the Clans. You destroyed our nation.”
“I would never do those things, Banshee.” Becca stands up and gets in his face.
“Oh, Becca. Becca, Becca, Becca…” Banshee smiles and chuckles. “You already have. Look around you. You’re the Face of the Maskless. You’re starting to run the rebellion. You. Are. Fulfilling. My. Dream.”
Becca begins to retaliate, when something clicks in her brain. She is. She’s doing it. He’s right.
“Why?” She asks suddenly, the word like acid from her lips. “Why did I do it? Why did I start the wars and why are people dead? What happened?”
Banshee smiles.
“My dreams speak truths,” he says quietly to her. “That’s why Quill assigned me where he assigned me. My dreams show things in the distant, or near, future…”
“But why did it all happen?”
Banshee chuckles. “Because it will happen. You just need to die first.”
He pushes her back in the chair and whips around to grab the gun. Before she knows it, he’s holding the gun out to her to take.
“Take it. Kill me if you wish. But just remember the real enemy. You want to bring down the government? Go bring down the government. But you have to go through me first.”
Becca shakes her head, all of the confidence draining from her.
“But you said I have to die—how does this—?”
“Take it,” Banshee says, his voice low and threatening. “Take it!”
She shakes her head again.
“Take the gun!” He screams, and hits her across the face with the butt of the wickedly shaped weapon. “Take it!”
Becca feels fury flare up inside of her again, but she still refused the gun.
Banshee starts banging hitting the gun on her and the chair, screaming for her to take it. To take it from him.
She watches as he brings the gun down once more, and she grabs the black metal, twists it out of his hands as she stands up, and uses his momentum to push him in the chair where she sat moments before. She brings the gun up to his head and stares at his skull. She knows where the bullet will penetrate. She can see it crush through his bone and into his brain. Her fingers shake as they touch the gun. The last time she used this…
A drop of sweat falls down her hairline and Banshee chuckles, smiles at her—grins at her.
“You’re ready,” he says.
“Ready for freaking what?” She growls, still holding her arms out in front of her and the gun up to his head.
“To take down the Leader of the Clans.”