Love and War

By the time this is all over, his body had better be six feet underground.

This is the thought that runs through my head as I get ready. I’m referring to my worst enemy, who goes by the name of Kellin Quinn. He murdered four people yesterday, so I’m going to do a little vigilante justice. I’m going to finish him off, once and for all.

I live on my own in a city apartment. It’s a mostly normal life, but sometimes, things like this happen, and I have to pull out a gun or a knife. I’ll admit that, yes, I’ve killed people before, but they were people who probably would’ve gotten the death sentence anyways. They were people who deserved it. They were people like Kellin.

Are you sure you’re ready for this? I ask myself, with a gun under my shirt.

Of course I am, I think in reply. Why wouldn’t I be?

Dumb question.

Get moving, Vic.

It’s dark outside, and there aren’t many people or cars around, even though it’s not that late. I head down the emptiest-looking street, taking a deep breath and telling myself that I can turn back if I really want to.

I probably won’t.

I’d never admit it out loud, but I actually have mixed feelings about this. I really do hate Kellin—he’s malicious and crazy, killing innocent people and enjoying every minute of it—but once upon a time, we had something. I used to be in love with the guy I’m about to send straight to hell.

That was back when I thought he was just a normal guy who happened to live alone in the city. That was back when I didn’t question his late night endeavors and the suspicious deaths the next day. That was back when I didn’t realize that the seemingly sweet boy I’d fallen in love with was a psychopath. That was back before he ruthlessly killed both my parents right in front of me, claiming that it was “for the best”.

How could I possibly still have lingering feelings for someone like that?

Things have changed since then, though. I broke up with him and fled his life, and now I’m coming back to end it. The past doesn’t matter. I should have done this a long time ago.

The building is old, run-down, and completely abandoned aside from Kellin. He uses this place as his home, mainly hiding out and hoping no one finds him. Other than that, he lives off of the things he steals.

After a short moment of hesitation, I burst in through the front door of the building, pointing my gun. A quick scan around proves that there is no one on the first floor, which means that if he’s here right now (and I’m pretty sure he is), he’s probably on the second.

I take the stairs two by two, first checking the bedroom closest to me. It ends up being empty, so I make my way across the hall. On the other side is another bedroom with its door open, and inside, I see a terrifyingly familiar figure that makes my heart start to race.

Kellin.

Obviously, I knew that I’d see him when I planned this out, but it’s a completely different thing to actually see him. That one glimpse is enough to bring back memories of everything.

He’s lying in the bed, and I rush into the room, thinking that maybe I can end it all right here and right now. That is not the case.

Kellin jumps up, startled. “Vic?” he says, eyes widening. “Wait, don’t shoot!”

He sounds so scared and so desperate that I actually hesitate. That’s not the tone of voice used by someone criminally insane.

"Oh my God, Vic," Kellin says, climbing out of the bed. "I thought you’d never come back."

"You’ve gone too far, Kellin Quinn," I reply coldly, my aim on him never wavering. I can’t show any sympathy. This is the guy who killed those four people yesterday. This is the guy who killed my parents.

Horror crosses over his face. “Vic, no,” he says. “It’s not what you think, I—I swear. I didn’t do it.”

Any normal person wouldn’t listen to a word he has to say. It seems that I’m not a normal person, because something holds me back from killing him.

"Vic, listen to me. I…I got help," he says softly.

I narrow my eyes at him. “You what?”

He takes a step toward me. “I was a psycho. I know. But I got help, and then I just wanted to find you and start over.” His voice starts to crack. “I knew you hated me, though. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” A tear falls out of one of his eyes.

"Kellin…" I say, not sure how to finish that sentence.

"I swear, Vic, it wasn’t me who killed those people," he says, crying harder now and stepping even closer. "I know you think it was, but I promise, that’s not me anymore. It was never me." He shakes his head, his shoulders shaking from the weight of his sudden sobs. "I mean, it was, but I didn’t…I never really wanted to be that person.”

I lower my gun, forcing myself to look into his eyes. I can’t help but hate to see him cry, and it digs up that protectiveness I felt toward him so long ago.

Is he telling the truth about those people? I’ve figured out his patterns by now, and that definitely seemed to fit into them, but could I have made a mistake? Could I be wrong?

Of course I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong before.

A voice in the back of my head is telling me, Shoot him, Vic. Don’t you remember what he did? But killing him won’t bring any of his victims back to life, and if he really is telling the truth, there won’t be any more of them.

"Kellin," I whisper. In this moment, I can see the boy I fell in love with, and it kills me.

I think Kellin is realizing this, because he takes another step closer, close enough now that he reaches out and softly caresses my cheek. “I just want to start over with you,” he whispers back.

I can’t help it. Against all logic, I kiss him.

As much as I’ve hated him, I know how badly I missed these lips. Unconsciously, I drop my gun and wrap an arm around his hips, tangling my fingers in his hair. He kisses back, his arms both sliding around my neck. “Oh, Vic,” he breathes into my mouth.

For a moment, I forget everything but him. All I know is that I’m kissing him, and I think I still love him, and I think he still loves me. It’s an amazing feeling.

Kellin pulls away slightly, removing one of his hands. “Vic,” he repeats. “God, you’re so hot.”

Then he pulls away from me completely, and I hear the cocking of a gun. “Such a shame that you’re going to have to go to waste.”

I barely have time to react, because then he wraps his arms back around my neck and presses the gun right to my temple, holding me in a death grip. “All’s fair in love and war, Vic,” he sings into my ear, flashing me a deceptively sweet smile. And then he pulls the trigger.