Scarlet Angel (Mindf*ck, #3)

by S.T. Abby

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. —William Shakespeare

Death is a fearful thing. —William Shakespeare.

Eventually, good conquers evil, because evil works alone.

And in that moment, I’m completely his. There’s no revenge; there are no deaths staining my hands. I’m just a girl in love with a man who’s destined to hate me when he learns the truth. And it’s devastatingly tragic; more so than any Shakespearian play ever was.

If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? —William Shakespeare

Shakespeare was one of the few philosophers who believed in revenge. Then again, he was a romantic. Romantics always believe in revenge, because romantics love harder, suffer loss more painfully, and hold onto a grudge that has shattered their hearts. Their hearts are of the greatest importance, above all else—body, soul, or mind.

“Why no cameras?” “Because the mind is a fragile thing,” I say once again. “It’s easier to pretend the words you hear are just rumors or lies. It’s not so easy to ignore something you can see. And the sheriff has plenty he doesn’t want anyone to see.”

I now know why my father could never move on after my mother’s death. He was a romantic. And a true romantic would never recover from losing his love.

“My father was an Einstein man. My mother loved Confucius. My brother, the hopeless romantic who was too easily emotional, lived and breathed Shakespeare.”

“Personally, I was always in love with the words of Voltaire.”

“Voltaire said, ‘Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities.’ For too long, Sheriff Cannon has ruled the county, and very few ever break away from the corruption he instills. Women are beneath men. And his word is gospel.”