My Crazy-Emelia Attempt

"You left," Emelia hissed quietly, deathly quietly - and quiet was dangerous, with Emelia. There was the strange, insane glint in her eyes. "I told you...I begged you not to leave, but did you listen? Did you think about it? I asked you not to do this. These are the repercussions." As he struggled underneath her, she drove the knife into his shoulder, using the weight she needed to hold him down to her advantage.

"Oh, dear," she taunted. "You think you have any chance now?" She kept the knife in there, her eyes and her smile carrying the same, poisoned malice. "Because of you, they came looking for me. They took me away. They prodded and poked me, tested me and surveyed me..." Her smirk grew wider. "Now...I'd say the girl you knew is completely and utterly gone."

She paused. "But...they're all dead now. They can't hurt me anymore. And I'm here to make sure that you can't, either. Anyone I ever cared about has to go...you've all made me hurt before...never again. Never, ever again. Because you'll be dead. You, and everyone else. I'm not the sensitive girl who was crying on her knees, begging for forgiveness anymore...not the unconditional, loving wife...because you repaid me with your departure for my kind deeds...so it figures I should do worse for your nasty ones."

"I had to get out of that place...and it's because of you that I was in there. I did nothing but nice things...but you still threw it all in my face." As he continued to struggle, she dug the knife in again, but this time in his other shoulder, smirking as fresh blood trickled from the second wound. "Tut, tut, tut, Cristi...but at least, your arms are identical again, huh?"

When he opens his mouth to speak, she presses the flat of the blade to his lips, making him taste the salty tang of his own blood. "Shhhh...I am talking, and you are listening, because you want me to keep talking so you can prolong your life, and I want to keep talking to prolong your misery. So, our goals are very much the same, but for very different reasons."

"You told me you regretted nothing when you left that day, Cristi, darling. If you were to tell me you regretted nothing now, I would laugh and call you a liar...because I am sure you regret leaving me. If you told me you didn't, I would laugh and call you a liar...because it has lead you down a lonely road...a lonely road that comes to its end when you die alone. I will die alone, too - but I don't care like I would before...because I know I outlived all those who left me in the dust."

"Emelia, why are you doing this?" Cristi managed to blurt out at last. Emelia jerked the knife out, but he just bit his lip tightly. He was going to die without her knowing she'd hurt him, he was going to - although she could see the pain in his eyes.

"Big mistake," she whispered. "You're just making yourself bleed more...so you'll die faster." She mock sighed. "I don't understand why you're so eager for your own death." She dug the heels of her shoes into his wrists - they were heels, so inevitably and eventually they cracked, with Emelia casting a Muffliato charm before he screamed in pain.

"Honey, scream all you want. Let it all out, I'm sure you'll need to. But nobody can hear you. They're useless, screams; even if they could hear you, it's far, far too late for you already." She made a slight incision in his cheek, then on the other one. "Far, far, far too late, dear. You made your decisions, and they came to this - it's nobody's fault but your own, and you don't deserve anyone to help you."

"Like how I screamed when you died. It was useless, too; but then, it wasn't you at all. Now I think about it, that idea was genius. Brenna Amory herself was a genius. I was brazen, I was brash, I followed my need for friends like I was a sheep. I was blinded by my own fears - if only I hadn't, maybe she wouldn't be dead. Maybe I would have seen it, and Laena would never have killed her. Maybe the Kentwells wouldn't be dead. Maybe Gio wouldn't be in Azkaban. But there are so many maybes, when they mean nothing. Like, maybe if you hadn't gone, you wouldn't be close to death at the hands of the woman who was blindly infatuated by your deceitful charms."

"She wasn't wrong, was she?" Emelia took the knife out of a wound, looking at the blood on it with an interested expression. "Nothing quite like revenge, I must say...she was right about that, and about everything else as well. Although, I admit you were a difficult challenge to overcome...a very difficult challenge indeed. That should have taught you a few lessons. Sometimes, Cristi, it is the people you love most who become your downfall."

She kissed him, forcefully, pushing another knife deep into his neck. Kissing him, to make him shut up and conceal his last noises - even if nobody could hear him anyway. Even if he did not matter anymore. She sighed, in some kind of attempt at regret - a bit hard when she didn't feel any.

"What a pity," she whispered, vanishing his body with a wave of her wand, cleaning the blood from the knives and her hands. "What a pity. Things could have been so different..." Pulling her hood over her head, she walked off deeper down the alleyway, pieces of their last picture together still blowing in the wind.