Published at 10th of April 2026 7:00 am

Chapter 21 You Should Have Killed Me When You Had The Chance (Emma POV)

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(Emma POV)

They say there isn't much that a woman won't do for the man she loves. And for the most part, its correct. Granted, I wouldnt say I love him, but I definitely like him. Its cliche but he makes me feel seen in a way that no one in Nestor Falls ever did. For as long as I can remember, Ive been different. My brains just wired differently from other people. Where other kids outgrew their more impulsive urges, mine only worsened. Picking and prodding at peoples insecurities and weaknesses, able to deftly apply the exact right amount of pressure to extract the reaction I craved. It came naturally to me, being able to see these blatant wounds that people carry, scabbed over, but with the right scratch, you could make them bleed so easily. Nobody I grew up around could see the wounds; nobody seemed aware of them, nobody except him.

My father, my mother, classmates, and later my ex-boyfriend all tried to beat it out of me, emotionally, mentally, or physically. Each attack a reminder to hide my true nature, my real self. Every interaction made me retreat further and further inside myself. I was a shell of a person by the time I finally triggered. Wandering aimlessly through life like a zombie, I wanted them to die. I wanted to die. When Ryan started strangling me, I didnt fight back at first. I was just going to let him get his anger out like he always did, but then he wasnt stopping, and I realized I was going to die. The thing about depression and suicide is that wanting to die is different from wanting to be killed. Ending it on my own terms wouldve been one thing, but letting that man extinguish my life was another. I tried fighting him off, but I eventually passed out during my triggering. Ryan thought I was dead and left in a hurry. You should have killed me when you had the chance.

But he didn't, and now I might be actually unkillable. My body is so much stronger than it used to be; I'm basically immune to other people's powers, I have super senses, and I'm constantly healing. The only downside I've found is that I can't get drunk. My life has changed so drastically since I triggered that I don't even recognize who I was before. And I owe all of that to him. It might be some reverse Nightingale Syndrome that has made me so attracted to him, but it could also be that he looks like a Hollywood actor. Incredibly wealthy, cold and detached, with powerful Cowls under his command, and more secrets than a BNA director, you cant blame me for wanting him. Thats why Im trudging through the frigid forests of Maine while hes back home, warm in his apartment.

Seriously, though, why couldn't Carbon have robbed a bank in Florida? I would've loved to go to Miami. Unfortunately, the family that Carbon killed lived in Portland, which means I get to be knee deep in snow instead of lounging at the beach, taking in the sun. I bite my lip to focus myself as I keep picturing Eryk and me at the beach. Focus Emma. Lock in, girl! Now wheres that cabin? It should be around here somewhere. Carbons cohorts were very open to answering my questions, especially after I asked so nicely. Youd think that with the amount of Neuvohumans out and about, people would learn to look past appearances. I know Im cute, but that doesnt mean Im not dangerous. I dont know if Carbons a genius or an idiot for hiding out in Fore River Sanctuary. Authorities searched the area, but he managed to evade them so completely that they assumed that he had moved on. But hes been lying low in wait for the heat to die down a bit before making a break for the Canadian border. As a maple-blooded Canadian citizen, it is my civic duty to keep our borders safe from American criminal scum like Carbon.

Eryks assumption that my new super senses are key to finding him is true, but it wont be as easy as he thought. Ive been wandering the park for the last three days, searching for any sign that could point me to wherever the fuck hes hiding, and Ive found jack shit. Its so freaking cold, even with the thick parka coat I bought. The only upside of the weather is that there are no insects out making noise, and most animals have hunkered down for the winter. Ive tried my best to keep a low profile for Eryks sake and to make sure his plan goes off without any problems, but Im losing patience.

Glancing around, I make sure theres no one in sight, and then I run over to the closest tree. Time to hunt like a real predator. I stuff my gloves in my pockets and dig my fingers into the bark. My new strength makes climbing with just my hands as fast as a scurrying squirrel. I push off to grab onto a branch with one arm, swinging up and around to land on it. Disturbed snow falls to the ground in a big clump. The branch is starting to bow from my weight, so I jump off it to a higher one, scrambling my way to the top. From here, I can get a birds eye view of the area, hopefully locating Carbon quickly. And if anyone sees me, Ill just kill them.

Crouched on top of a strong and sturdy tree branch, one capable of fully supporting my weight, a dainty ninety-eight pounds, and look down at the cabin below. The fading sun casts a light orange glow over the brown wooden cabin, making the snow-covered roof sparkle. The cabin doesnt have a single light on inside, and the approaching darkness would make any normal person turn a lamp on or at least light a candle. But the small bit of smoke coming out of the metal tube on the roof means someone is inside. It might be a random family or a couple of hikers, but there are a few clues that point to this being Carbons hideout. No one is talking inside or making any noise, really, which points to a single inhabitant. Adding the single set of bootprints leading to and from the property only further proves my deduction.

A wide grin splits my face; its been too long since Ive gotten to hurt anyone. The last time I had any fun was at Friendsgiving, and I wasnt an active participant in the partys chaos, merely a background character. Its not like I have to be the lead; Im fine with having a supporting role and enjoying the voyeuristic vibe. Id be lying if I said I wasnt looking forward to the face the man will make when he realizes hes been discovered. Ill savor the taste of his despair. A fuckless week of frustration spent cold in cheap motels. Im going to take it all out on him. He told me I just couldnt kill him, but that doesnt mean I cant hurt him.

The drop to the ground must be a hundred feet or more. That gives me a wonderfully devious idea. Without an ounce of hesitation, I spring forward, jumping off the tree. The sound of my legs snapping echoes out in the quiet evening, followed by the most painful shriek I can muster. It isnt hard; the pain is worse than the chemical burns Eryk gave me. My legs are bent at awful angles with shards of bone poking through my jeans. Blood comes out in spurts, dying the snow red. My pants are definitely ruined. My wounds are already closing, and my bones are slowly starting to force themselves back into place. I need to get him to come out here quickly before Im fully healed.

HELP! IS ANYONE OUT THERE? PLE-HE-EASE, I continued to wail and cry.

The adrenaline pumping through me has me hopped up, and I can feel my tears freezing against my skin. Theres no way he just leaves me out here, right? My head is pounding, the thumping of my heartbeat filling my ears, but Im still able to hear some rushed shuffling and muttering coming from the cabin. I let out another agonized moan, sobbing loudly. The door swings open, revealing a man some would call crusty-handsome. The type of man who claims he only has to shower once a week because his natural smell entices women. His dirty blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and his unshaven face makes him look like the leader of a cult of yoga instructors. He looks lot worse than the picture of him online, but thats definitely Carbon. He paranoidly shifts his head around, searching for hidden enemies. Its just you and me. I desperately call him over, and I almost fuck up my ruse by vomiting. The smell is overpoweringly nauseating, like cat piss, cigarettes, and dumpster juice. My eyes water as he gets closer, which has the effect of adding to my ploy. Does the water not fucking work in there?

What are you doing here? He barked at me.

I f-fell out of the tree I was climbing, and I cant feel my legs. Is it bad? I asked, hyperventilating to sell the panic.

Why were you climbing the tree? He asked, squinting his eyes at me.

I wanted a good angle of the sunset. Please help me. I dont know where my phone is; I dropped it when I fell. Can you call someone? Oh god, it hurts so badly.

NO! He shouted suddenly. He realizes his overreaction and course-corrects. I-I mean, I dont have a phone either. But I know a little first aid. Here, lets get you inside, and Ill take a look for your phone.

His face betrays how unhappy he is at my sudden appearance. I shouldnt be surprised that a guy too stupid to pull off a robbery without multiple casualties wouldnt know that the injuries I have are way beyond what first aid can handle. What a pathetic idiot. He reaches down to grab me by my waist and yanks me up, sending pain racing through my legs. I bite my tongue, letting him drag me toward the cabin. Being this close to him reveals a new putrid smell of BO. My legs are going to be back to normal in less than ten minutes, so I wont have much time to really milk the facade. I am going to enjoy this.

The inside of the cabin is as messy as the man squatting in it. There's a thick layer of dust covering the furniture and floors, enough that there are visible footprints from the displacement of it. The air is stale and musty, only marginally better smelling than Carbon. Hes kind enough to lay me down on the couch in the room while he paces around the room muttering to himself. He pulls his hair free, running his fingers through it over and over. Some sort of calming exercise? The man doesn't strike me as dangerous, just spiraling in a manic episode brought on by high stress. I let out a groan, and he breaks out of his trance to look for the first aid kit in one of the other rooms. Feigning frailty and vulnerability isn't difficult; I fooled Eryk. Carbon isnt in the same mental league as him.

Returning from the bedroom, hes holding a metal container. He opens the kit, his hands shaking like an alcoholics, and retrieves a set of scissors so old the metal has rusted from years of inactivity inside the kit. Carbon sets it down and goes over to the cabinets, grabbing a bottle of vodka from them. He generously pours the alcohol over the scissors, his hands, and my open wounds. I suck in harshly, the liquid burning like a motherfucker. He takes a deep swig of the bottle before beginning. Carefully, he starts to cut open my jeans, widening the holes around my knees from my bones puncturing through. The smelly man is laser-focused on the task in front of him. Once hes removed the majority of my pant legs, he begins to wrap up my injured legs. Ive got to give the man his flowers; hes done an admirable job.

Im going to go look for your phone. Try to get some rest, he said kindly.

O-okay, I said, stuttering to further cement my harmless look.

He grabs a scarf from the coat rack and heads out to look for my phone. The one inside my pocket. I have you right where I want you.

Carbon has got some dedication to him; he spends an hour searching for my phone. I close my eyes when I hear the door creak open, pretending to sleep. No matter how much I want to open my eyes, I have to resist. It will make the reveal that much sweeter. A scraping sound comes from my right; he must be moving a chair or some other piece of furniture. Then I hear him chugging a liquid and droplets plopping against the ground. What is going on? Im so damn curious, I want to take a peek. NO! The scraping sound picks up again, getting closer to me. The smell of him fills my nostrils, and I barely suppress the gag. He must be checking on my bandages.

How are you feeling? He asked quietly.

I slowly stir, yawning to sell the image of someone just waking up. Carbons pulled over one of the oak chairs from the table, and hes sitting in it.

Hmm? Did you say something? I asked.

Just checking on you, Carbon answered.

Mhmm. It still hurts, I lied. Did you find my phone?

No, I didnt find it. I did find something interesting, though, he replied.

His eyes are different. Theyre not manic anymore; in fact, he looks sad.

Whatd you find? I asked, my curiosity genuine.

Its more like what I didnt find, which was footprints. There arent any footprints around here that arent mine. I walked a while to double-check, but for maybe three hundred feet, there arent any. Which begs the question of how you fell out of a tree right in front of my cabin. Howd you get up there if you didnt walk to it? Carbon asked, reaching into his waist and pulling out a gun. He keeps his finger off the trigger, resting the weapon on his thigh, but keeping the barrel pointed at me. It seems I have been discovered. Youre smarter than you look, Carbon. Well, he may have figured out that I lied, but that doesnt mean he knows what hes dealing with.

What do you mean? I asked, doing my best ignorant girl act.

I mean, it wasnt a coincidence that youre here. You were looking for me, werent you? Youre probably some PI or bounty hunter, here to try and bring me in. But you fucked up and fell, breaking both of your legs. Im the most wanted man in Maine. I dont blame you for wanting to catch me. I didnt mean to kill those people. It was Sasha who shot the jeweler, and I wasnt trying to hurt anyone; I just wanted the cops off our ass, he said, standing up to pace back and forth. He doesnt let me out of his peripheral vision, and the gun is still in his hand. It was an accident, I never wanted anyone to get hurt, you know? But that defense doesnt work in court, and intent doesnt matter when it comes to Neuvohumans. If you kill someone with your powers or as a result of your powers, you get life in an Ominimax prison. My court case wouldnt have been to decide if I get sent to one, it would be to determine which one and for how many life sentences. Im not built for jail, I wouldnt do well in there.

What are you talking about? I dont know what any of that means, I said, letting my voice crack.

Oh, but you do. I never wanted to hurt that family, but I think I just realized something, he said calmly.

What?

That theres no difference between five life sentences and six life sentences, he answered.

He stops pacing, staring at me with a detached look on his face. He raises the arm holding the gun, aiming it at my chest.

Dont be such a pussy, I said, dropping the facade. Youre so shook up because you killed a wittle famiwy. Five life sentences? Thats rookie numbers. I killed my entire hometown because I felt like it.

What?

I roll off the couch, using my palm to springboard me onto my feet in a single fluid motion. Now its his turn to be surprised. I shake my legs repeatedly; theyve long since healed, but sitting so still for so long made them fall asleep. Before I can take a step, he shoots me in the chest. I stumble back, the bullet went clean through me. Fuck me, that hurts. Ive never been shot before; that hurts like a bitch. I cough up a bunch of blood, the red liquid splattering onto the wood floors. Already, the entrance and exit wounds have closed, with him none the wiser.

Now, that wasnt very nice, Carbon.

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