The Death of Us

by C.A. Mariah

“I don’t want you to tell the world we weren’t monsters. We were.” “Then what do you want?” Leaning close enough for me to catch the faint whiff of blood and mint on her breath, Bunny looks me dead in the eye, keeping me prisoner just as much as her. “I want you to tell them why.”

“I’m gonna be a fucking star.”

It's giving Pearl (movie)

“I’m gonna come back for you.” She may not be around to hear it, but it’s a promise I make

I will come back for her… I just need to be able to take care of us first—to take care of me first.

Life has taught me on more than one occasion that if the world deems you pretty, you have to sleep with one eye open.

“What’s your name?” he asks, drowning me in the soft blues of his gaze. I wanted to keep that close. I wanted to deny him everything, but in this moment⁠— “Bunny.” I know he’ll keep it safe.

I feel his touch in the deepest part of me, as if I’ve felt him in another life.

“Fuck, and you know, maybe we were. Maybe we lost our senses. Maybe we were just two kids desperate for something other than darkness…but we found it. In that moment, we found a light that had been stripped from our lives.”

“At least for that night. You were safe?” I pose it as a question because, obviously, she’s here, but safe? That’s not a guarantee. “What happened that night?” She smiles. “I fell in love.”

Even lying down, he towers over me when rising onto a single elbow. “If I’m going to bear all my secrets to you,” he states, gravel pouring down his throat, “then you’re going to lay quietly and take all I have to give while I do it.”

“Fuck me, Bunny. Show me what makes you so fucking special to the devil.”

The more the story unfolds, the less I see the monsters that graced the covers of the New York Times. The longer I sit here, gazing into the eyes of a killer, the more I see a child who went through hell.

I want to tell him I’m okay, that his touch almost replaces the agony of last night, but he silences me with a snarl. “Never again,” he promises. “I’ll never let you bleed again.”

I force myself to look away, and I tell myself that we’re running for her. We will fix this for her, for us, and for every girl we left behind. It keeps us going, and it gets us out.

“I got out because of you, Bun,” he mutters, just before I close the door, holding me hostage in his throaty sorrows. I turn, but only slightly, enough to gaze at his rigid, weighed-down posture. His blazing blue eyes find me watching, and he traps me in those, too. “I didn’t—” I begin to say, instantly silenced when he storms to me. “You lit a fire under my ass.” He smirks, a low husk in his tone. “I got out because of you, and I’m going to make sure I thank you for that every day I’m free.”

“Not yet,” I whisper, rolling my thumb over the throbbing vein in his wrist. I say it every hour until the little cabin goes dark, until the child fixed in front of the television goes to bed—until he sleeps peacefully in his wife’s arms. Then I set Cade free, and he goes quietly, with my hand tucked in his.

He wants his head on a spike. We share the same sentiment. The question is, who gets to do the honors?

Cade rises first, holding his hand out for me like a gentleman to escort me to our murder.

“One day, we will go anywhere you want us to, but we’re going to kill these fuckers first, Bun. I’m going to fucking murder them for me, and I’m going to murder them for you.”

We’re going to kill him for you, Sophie. And for Clara. And for all the other girls whose names I never learned.

“You’re going to fucking move and do what she says, because if you don’t, I’m going to fuck your throat with this blade, and then I’m going to saw off your dick and let her shove it up your hairy, untouched ass. You will cry, you will bleed, and then you’ll fucking die. And in the end, I’ll still find a way to get her what she wants. So, what do you say?”

“I didn’t mean to take that away from you,” Cade purrs, taking me by the cheeks to rest his forehead against mine. “But he was really beginning to piss me off.”

His scars, the ones I cascade my fingers over, are a reminder of the hard life he’s been forced to live—the vicious man he’s been forced to become. I can’t ignore that, but he’s also the same killer who folds his arms around my waist and kisses me with a tenderness only love can explain.

“I’m going to kill him for this,” I vow, as I brush my fingertip over a freshly scabbed gash. “And this,” I add, eyeing the slow-healing bullet wound.

“I’ll make sure you do, after I’ve delivered them to your feet.” “Promise?”

“On my life.” It’s a promise he meant literally, I learned eventually. A promise he truly kept…until the end.

Eventually, after a long debate, we had settled on one, but I guess God is real, and he gave us two.

“Rapists,” he snaps. “Murderers. Kidnappers…child molesters. They aren’t people, Bun. And we aren’t villains for slaughtering them. You know that. I know that, and Susie knows that.”

Before the reason why can be brought to light, Colette interjects, spewing more venom. “Don’t tell him a thing, Nathan! You don’t owe this piece of trash shit.” “You would be smart to shut the fuck up. I don’t hit women,” Cade growls, gesturing to me, “but I won’t stop her from knocking out every remaining tooth until you’re nothing but gums beneath a crumbled face.”

I didn’t have a plan in mind for Colette, only that she needed to be shown some of the pain I felt before granting her an end like Lakens. Like Cade, I wanted to know why me, why she said what she said—why she didn’t care. And then she kept talking. She kept hurling poison. She came for Cade, and when my world went red, hers ended.

“Take this as a lesson, baby girl. Never chase a man. You’ll suffer for it every time.”

“We got three, Bun,” he says happily, taking my bottom lip between his teeth. “They can never get us again. They can never get you again.” He emphasizes me, as if I was the only one affected, but staring into his eyes, drowning inside their depths, I see I’m the only one who matters to him. Everything he’s done⁠— He's done for me.

“You’ve given me everything.” It’s as close to I love you as I’ve ever gotten to saying, and the biggest thank you I can squeeze out through my strangled throat, and it's not enough. There are no words or actions that could even come close to repaying what he’s done for me—what we’ve done together, for each other.

We will never go through this world alone, we solemnly swear, falling into each other's arms as swiftly as we fall deeper in love.

Lips against mine, he vows, “I got you.” “Until the end.”

“I’m sorry.” “For what?” he asks, glancing down underneath his arm. For it all is what I don’t have the strength to say, but he knows it anyway. Of course, he does. “I would have done it for you anyway, Bun. I would do anything.”

We’ve killed three, and this is the first time we acknowledge that we may not come out of this one alive. To that, I only have one answer. “I’d rather die than let either of them have one more child.” Bending at the waist, Cade takes me by the chin. “I got you.” Until the end.

Shifting, I look over my shoulder, studying the mess I made, searching for any guilt. Instead, I feel some peace. “I think I’m a monster.” Taking my blood-coated left hand, Cade kisses my knuckles. “And whose fault is that?” He looks between the seats, casually glancing at the deceased with butchery on his lips, reminding me of who helped to create this.

Breathing through slightly parted lips, Cade’s tired stare falls on me. “And then we can rest?” “Until the end.”

“Cade… God, he was so good. He was better than the world deserved—than I deserved. All he wanted—all he ever told me was that he’d do whatever it took to make sure I felt safe. So…no, he didn’t tell me anything, nothing but what he always said.” “What was that?” A tear, a single one, falls then. “Until the end.” That’s a phrase that has been repeated multiple times throughout this interview. Yet, when she says it now, it carries more weight than before. “Tell me how it ended.”

We may not have entered hell together, but we’ll leave wrapped in each other's arms.

He doesn’t look at me as I wail his name. He doesn’t look anywhere but the gaping, grisly hole. With tears streaming down my face, I plead for Marone to let me go. “Please let me go to him,” I sob, watching Cade try to hold himself together.

“Okay!” Cade roars, voice cracking at the end. Though it must be excruciating, Cade crawls on his fragmented knee, his eyes never leaving mine. I can see the goodbye drowning in his tears, the apology pouring down his beautiful face—the I love you across his lips. I can’t force a yell. I can barely get his name out, but I need to call for him. I need him to hear me. “Cade… Please.”

Weakly, Cade stands to his feet, his chest heaving and hyperventilating as he opens his mouth, ready to place the barrel between his teeth. I can hear myself screaming his name in my head, but I don’t think I got the chance to call out before the door behind me bursts open.

It's so strange, how time can slow right before a life-changing moment. I think it could be a gift, but in this case, I think it’s my punishment.

All I heard was my heart breaking. And whatever was left of my soul ceased to exist the moment Cade truly slipped away.

Marone let me go when an officer came close, and I listened to them shout for me to freeze, but I crawled through the bloodied floor and cradled the boy I loved so deeply.

“I love you, Cade.” Until the end, I can still hear him say. Until the end.

“Every time I close my eyes, I see him falling. I try to catch him…” She mimics, reaching out her hand to the paper. “But I’m right back in Marone’s arms, right back to him falling.”

“Yes. To answer your question, I regret it. I regret not leaving. I regret not saving Cade. I regret not catching him as he fell, but mostly, I regret that Marone got away with all of it. That he got to hurt Cade…even after he died.”