The Wrong Choice

Robin’s black hair painted the blood red pillow as she snored lightly. She had been sleeping restlessly for a short four hours. Sleep was the only way she could escape the pain her own mind inflicted upon her. She was at war with her own thoughts, and she hated herself more and more every day because of it. Ever since the day she chose to live instead of die, Robin had grown to hate herself. Despite her self-hatred, she could never find the courage to kill herself.

“Now that you know my secret, I can’t let you go. You must choose, little Robin. Will you choose life or death?” his breath felt humid against her pale face that was stricken with fear.
Robin was silent for a moment. When she could no longer stand his deadly stare, she said, “You’re a monster.”
The man barely chuckled at her comment. “I think that is fairly obvious, dear. Are you going to make your choice, or would you rather me decide for you?” Robin looked away from his eyes, unable to stand his glare any longer. In annoyance, the man’s hands quickly wrapped around Robin’s throat and pushed her head to the hard concrete. His breath was everywhere on her face and neck, sticking to her skin. His hands tightened around her throat until the pain began to grow intolerable and Robin’s access to air was gradually becoming cut off.

Her caramel eyes shot open as her hands flew to her throat. The memories kept flashing through her mind as tears began rimming her eyes. She rose from her luxurious king size bed and walked quietly towards the window. The light greeted her tender, teary eyes as she peeled back the black curtains. The city was bustling outside, oblivious to the evils lying in the tallest of  the buildings surrounding the streets. A plane seemed to float by the window Robin was peering out of. She huffed to herself, “Some Utopia this is.” She turned away from the window and laid on her bed, ignoring the fact that the sheets had been pulled from under the mattress during her restless sleep.
Though the tears had dissipated, the light was still bothering her eyes. With a wave of her hand and a simple phrase spoken, the curtains jerked together to block out the light once again. Robin closed her eyes. Tears slowly traced her cheeks as the memories forced their way to the forefront of her mind.

“Life,” she wheezed out, her hands gripping his wrists as she tried to push his hands away from her slender throat.
His crooked smile made his appearance all the more appalling. Robin closed her eyes to avoid looking at him before he spoke. “You choose to live. You understand you are choosing a life like mine, correct?”
A tear escaped her closed eye as her heart told her not to agree while her mind was telling her to choose life. “Correct,” Robin managed to reply. The man’s hands released her throat, but his hands remained on top of her to hold her down.
“And you understand that the blood of hundreds of thousands of people will be on our hands, correct?”
Robin’s head was throbbing as more tears spilled from her fear-filled eyes. In a hoarse whisper, she said, “Yes.”

Memories of the man turning her into the monster that he is and teaching her the skills and magic he contained continued to flow through her mind. She was unable to think of anything else until one specific memory made the wheels in her mind turn. An idea immediately sprung into her head. She wondered how she had never thought of it before. It was all so simple, and it was as if it had been standing right in front of her.
For the rest of the day, Robin stayed in bed and figured out the specifics of her plan. When the vase with a dozen roses that he had offered her caught her eye, her plan was falling into place more perfectly than she could have previously imagined.
-    -   -   -   -   -
    Robin’s spells had been cast and it was almost time for her to join him in his plan to destroy Utopia. She slipped on the pitch black dress and laced up the dark shoes he had picked for her. As she slid on the shoulder-length gloves she had spelled to protect her skin from magic, her eye caught her form in the mirror. It was hard to look away, even though she hated the sight of her own face for the choices she had made. Her pale skin glowed against the darkness of her clothing and hair. Her bangs hung over her forehead in a manner that cast a menacing shadow over her caramel brown eyes. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself before grabbing the rose and heading to her designated location.
Once she arrived at the warehouse she was told to meet him at, her heart began to pound against her chest furiously. “I am here, Nevara,” she called out. Her voice echoed around the empty space.
    “Over here,” he said from the opposite corner of the room. His hood was covering his face as usual, only allowing a sliver of his chin to be seen. He was holding open a door that appeared to only lead to darkness.
    Robin took a deep breath before walking towards him quietly. She twirled the red rose in her hands, not daring to look at the eyes underneath the hood as she passed by Nevara. The pair descended a stairwell that led to a poorly lit basement. Once they were a few steps away from the last step, Robin allowed the rose to fall from her hand. She took one more step before turning and looking down at it. Nevara noticed the fallen rose as she turned around to face him. A cocky smile spread across his lips when he realized she had brought along a rose he had given her.
    She glanced at his face underneath the hood, not daring to lock eyes with him. “Allow me,” he said before bending over and picking up the rose with a bare hand. The same cocky smile remained on his face as he held out the rose to Robin. Just as she was about to take it from him, the feeling of loss began to course through his veins. The smirk on his expression disappeared as he clenched his eyebrows in confusion. When the realization finally hit him, his face began to fill with rage.
    Before Nevara could act, Robin raised her hands towards his head and began chanting disarming spells. Nevara fell to his knees and groaned in fury and pain. “What are you doing!?” he yelled.
    “I can’t let you destroy this city and murder everyone in it,” Robin replied in a monotone voice. She hiked her dress up partially before reaching under it and withdrawing a dagger.
    To Robin’s surprise, Nevara chuckled. “You don’t want blood on your hands, yet you plan to kill me?”
    Robin didn’t falter. “You think I haven’t thought about that?” she responded as she stepped towards him. “I have thought about this constantly for a long time. I don’t want blood on my hands, but I choose justice over my wish to not have blood on my hands.”
She stepped towards him again, holding the dagger towards his throat. “I assumed you would betray me,” he spoke up before she could will herself to slide the blade across his throat. He bent his neck, the only part of his body he could move after Robin’s repeated disarming spells. His eyes locked with hers. She noticed his lack of emotion immediately. It made her want to run away. “I didn’t think you would be intelligent enough to fully disarm me; however, I prepared for this in case you did. Do you remember when I had you give me some of your blood?”
    “Yes,” Robin said, attempting to hold her voice steady.
    “I used your blood to link us together. If you die, I die, and vice versa.” His smirk returned as he continued, “If you kill me, you will die too. We both know you don’t want that. After all, I gave you the choice to live like me or die once, and you chose life.”
Robins frown deepened and annoyance began to line her expression. “I have regretted that choice every second since. I should have chose death. I should have chosen death every day over working with you, Nevara. I never could manage to take myself out of this world, but this time I will choose what’s right.”
    With a single tear tracing her pale cheekbone, Robin traced the dagger along Nevara’s neck in one swift motion. Slight gurgling noises emitted from his mouth as his body fell to the side before Robin. She held her breath, waiting for her life to be stripped from her. After several moments of standing in the same spot, looking at Nevara’s corpse, Robin realized he had been lying. There was never a linking spell. He was too cocky to ever believe she could disarm him and get the chance to stop him once and for all.
    Robin left the warehouse quickly after peeling off her bloody gloves. The thought of slicing Nevara’s neck remained in the forefront of her mind. She couldn’t make the images leave her thoughts.
    The one thing she never wanted was to have blood on her hands, but her decision to live had catapulted her into a life she hated. Though she had stopped Nevara from killing everyone in the city of Utopia, her self hatred would never leave her.