The Seventh One

Three things happened simultaneously. Jessie spun around in his chair to face Billie who stood defiantly in front of the front door. Jessie gripped the knife handle tighter. This was no way to die. In fact I can't even think of a case where a widows deceased husband comes back from the dead to kill his wife so she'll stay with him forever. It's crazy. Beyond weird that I'd actually believe that I was still asleep and I'd just imagined all of this. But the feeling of my heart hammering away in my chest gave me some kind of faith that this was no dream. No ordinary one anyways. One of those crazy ones that live in reality that cannot be escaped.
Billie's eyes flashed between me leaning back stiffly in my chair while Jessie's was angled toward me with a knife mere inches from my throat. Jessie's face is not mistakable with anyone else's. You would know his face the second you saw it. Tag a name to it, he cannot be forgotten.

“Jess...” Billie whispered. Breaking the silence. Jess cocked his head. He wouldn't just let Billie escape if he walked in on my certain demise. I looked at Billie severely with begging eyes to tell him to run. To leave and let me take my own punishment alone. But I forgot that Billie wouldn't hear of it. Through it all together he'd stay. I could see that in his eyes as he firmly sat his jaw. 
No! No no! Billie go! I shouted in my head. I couldn't find a voice to tell him to get the hell out of here and put as much distance between my house and himself as possible. 

“Get away from her.” he growled in a voice I didn't know and never would have guessed was Billie's. My eyes widened in fear for everything that was happening. Jessie and Billie glowered at each other across the room. Making their own plans. Plans I cannot stop. I shifted in my seat and Jessie's head snapped toward me and jabbed the knife into my forearm. I cried out in pain and shoved him away from me. Kicking thr chair back from the table and rising from my seat and pulling out the knife. My stomach twisting at the sight of all the blood. I winced and gripped the handle tightly and dragged it out. Tossing it aside with a clatter on te wood floor beside me. I took in a deep shaky breath. Billie's eyes were sympathetic for my pain. And Jessie's glinted evilly. But there was a certain kind of pain behind his eyes that made me believe that it was actually hurting him to hurt me... I looked into his eyes deeply. Begging. But he dropped his gaze and pretended that he hadn't seen it.. 
I looked over a Billie again and hardly had time to yell a warning. Jessie was out of his chair, charging Billie. I ran after him and wrapped my arms around his ribs and attempted to pull him back while he clawed at the air. Screaming threats and certain deaths at Billie though he'd done nothing. But it wouldn't matter, Jess already considered him to be a witness and well that's just too much.
My hands slipped away when he lurched at Billie once more. Shoving him into the wall while Billie was working on shoving the immortal Jessie off himself. I got back on my feet and shoved Jess.

“Get off of him Jessie!” I yelled. Slamming him into the door. Jessie's eyes flared at me and he spun to face Billie again. Slugging him forcefully across the face. Slamming Billie into the door. And I watched in horror, my eyes flashing between Jessie and Billie's quickly losing consciousness body as he draped towards the floor. I really started to freak when he started bleeding. Jess had slammed him into the door. A long gash along his forehead. 

“Jessie!” I screamed and lurched toward Billie but his arm wound around my waist to stop me.

“It had to happen Amy. Leave him alone and he'll be as peaceful as us soon.” he whispered darkly into my ear. “I couldn't let him get between us. He seems to be driving quite the wedge already...”
I spun around and shoved him away from me.

“You fucking creep! I did love you. I did miss you. Before I knew what kind of monster you were!” I yelled.

“See?” he taunted “If I had told you then... What I was, what I am. You couldn't have loved me because you're so damn conflicted!” his eyes burned with rage and hurt. I didn't care though. I couldn't care, I could have accepted him, but... Not now. He's trying to kill my best friend.

“Jessie! Look at yourself! Your no damn better then you're own father!” I shook his shoulders firmly. My face desperate and my strength was wearing. I wanted to sit down and help Billie. I didn't have time to argue with Jessie and he knew it. He was stalling me so Billie would die and out of depression I'd let him kill me. Take my weak soul. But I have news for him. I'm not going down and letting all my work become wasted.
His face darkened tremendously at the mention of his father. And before I could see it coming, a hand struck home across my face. Sending me sprawling on the carpet, I spit out blood and rolled over to glare up at him. 

“Don't you ever fucking mention my father! You don't even know him!” he shouted. Pointing a finger at me.

“You're the one who made him out to be the asshole, may I remind you!” I shouted back.

“He was! Hell... Still is! He's what shaped me into this...” he pointed at himself “He encouraged me to go after what makes me happy.” he emphasized 'me'
“And to do it just to make the other person miserable. I wont live without you! You have no choice!” he face was red with anger and from yelling.
Then something changed as I looked up at him. His face weakened. He became somber and depressed looking “Please..” he plead softly “Please don't let me die alone Amelia...” he whispered. No one has called me Amelia in forever. So it hit me strangely. And I was wondering if it was all just part of his plan. I looked up at him angrily anyways and slowly rose to my feet. I felt weak next to someone who once made me feel as safe and immortal as I once was, so he says.
I couldn't fight him... I just couldn't. I collapsed into his unexacting arms. Feeling terribly tired and just wanting to forget the fight we were still fighting at. He hugged me close for a moment, and I noticed two things, one was the new knife, one of my kitchen knifes shimmering behind Jess's back as we hugged. I leaned limply in his arms as I saw Billie. His wounds worse and a streak of red ran down his face from wounds. I felt terrible for him. More than ready to sacrifice myself for his well being.
I nodded slightly and pulled away. Standing on my own two feet. Jessie looked into my eyes fiercely and pulled out the knife. Showing me in the limited light how the blade shined. I instantly felt sick. I looked down at it sadly as he leveled the tip of the blade over my heart. I closed my eyes. Expecting the impact. Instead he cried out in pain, my eyes flashed open evilly as he glared in pain at me. The knife he had originally had in the kitchen got tossed aside in the living room when Jessie went to attack Billie. And id picked it up on my trip down to the floor. The blade was now shoved to the handle in his back. He took a deep breath and straightened up a bit. Reaching behind and pulling out my blade. Then looked at it thoughtfully as I had tried to kill him. Turned and jabbed it into my own stomach. I wrenched in pain and bent over. Hugging at the wound. Pulling out thr blade and and tossing it aside before it could cause much damage. I looked down, blood streaked down and stained the carpet around me in little crimson drops. My dead eyes raised to Jessie's and for the second time. I collapsed into his arms. He stroked my hair whispering “It's ok, it's ok. Give up it's going to be fine.”
But I knew it wasn't. Never was. I weakly shoved him away from me and received a punishment for it. His hand soared across my face again and he kicked me into the brick wall surrounding the fire place. Quickly knelt before me and banged my head into the wall twice. More blood, he pulled out his prized knife again and dragged it across my skin with light pressure. Carving horrific designs into my flesh. I wanted to kick him away. Attack him and finish him off. But as seconds passed there was too much blood. Clouding my vision of my drooping eyelids. I gave one last weak kick. So weak I doubt I even really moved. He began to chant little prayers as I passed away.