6:02 am

That's what his dirt smeared wristwatch read when his body slammed onto the ground. Gustave groaned out the pain coursing through the throbbing shoulder he fell upon, a puff of dust filled the air as he coughed.

“Well Gustave, I am truly flattered at how well you’ve served us all these years,” a man’s voice resonated across the dim underground tunnel.

Gustave slid his hands under him and pushed himself up from the compact dirt ground. He only had enough strength to get on one knee before falling into a cross-legged sit in a haste. He looked up to his wrist and found how his priced watch, the only thing left from his previous life, had indeed shattered from his fall. His sour moment was further lengthened as a thick trace of blood now trickled down his lip. The man before him continued speaking, pacing around the tunnel as he did, but he payed little to no attention to him. Gustave was slow as he brought a hand up to smear the streak of blood off from his lips.

His world felt like a blur. Moving slow, distant, muffled, not grasping any sense of realness as he stayed there on the ground. He didn’t know what he was here for, he never did, they never told him. A part of him felt like he knew, a part of him didn’t. No, he did know, it was obvious what they wanted, he just didn’t understand how he fit into all of it, or maybe he was wrong. Frustration brewed up inside of him as Gustave pulled at the matted hair on his head. All those years of isolation had left him with a muddled consciousness, barely able to recognize what he knew to be true and what had been fed to him as a lie.

But above it all, despite all the confusion and lost sanity, the one thing that felt real to him was the foul taste of guilt sitting at the back of his throat, even if he had no reason for it.

Gustave had been so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t realize how the man was now towering over him, doing a slow clap as he approached him. A smug smile filled the likes of Rodrigue Allender as he crouched down and dropped his hands onto his knees.

“It truly has been the highlight of my life.” Rodrigue chuckled, “At least for now.” He pulled himself up again and spoke over his shoulder, “What’s coming next will definitely defeat everything else that –”

“Oh, stop it,” Gustave cut in.

Rodrigue turned back around, “So, he finally speaks.”

Gustave used what little strength he had left to lean against the wall behind him. “You don’t have to keep rub-rubbing everything in my face,” he took a second to breathe, “It’s done, just let it be.”

Rodrigue sighed as he made his way back to him. “Gustave, my friend,” he bent down again, this time much closer to his face and said in a whisper, “I know this may have rubbed off in the wrong way, but really, I am simply, truly, thanking you.” His hot breath made Gustave turn his head to the side, burying himself deeper into the wall, desperate to put some distance between them.

“Thanks to you - to your honor and your sacrifice - we are here.” Rodrigue jumped onto his feet and gestured to the tunnel with arms wide open. “And if that isn’t enough to deserve such a merit, then I truly don’t know what is.”

A terrible exhaustion took over Gustave. Despite his entire weight resting on the wall behind him, he couldn’t help but feel like a large portion of it was still being carried by him. The exhaustion was so much that he seemed to be swaying back and forth now. Rodrigue let his arms fall to his side as he noticed the state of his prisoner.

“You may not understand it now, but in due time, I promise you will see this is the way, the right way, for the greater good of the-”

“Of what?” Gustave cut him off, “Of the family?” He chuckled at the thought of this. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Rodrigue played with the inside of his cheek as he stared back. “Like…I…said…” his voice fell into a low hum, “You may not understand it now, but trust me, sooner or later, you will see how this is how it always should’ve been.”

The sound of a gun cocking cut through the air. Right behind Rodrigue Allender appeared three more figures, two guarding the exit, and one with the barrel of his gun stuck to Mr. Allender’s nape. The tunnel’s poor lighting only granted Gustave the chance to make up very vague silhouettes of the three intruding men. But in it, even if for a moment, he saw them, couldn’t mistake them, those familiar jade green eyes.

A chuckle escaped from Rodrigue, “I thought I told you to wait outside.”

“You did,” the man with the gun spoke in the darkness, “but you talk too much.”

The sound of the gun clicking away from Rodrigue’s neck now filled the space. “If I’m talking too much it’s for a reason.”

The jade green eyes stayed in the shadows, moving to the side. “What reason could be this good?”

Rodrigue gestured to Gustave, “Why we’re merely celebrating this brave man’s return!” he shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. “The return of Mr. Degarmo to his home. At least the closest he’ll ever get.”

A sense of fear washed over Gustave as he heard this. Part of him knew, part of him didn’t. Part of him knew what was about to happen, part of him didn’t understand why it had to be him, and why now. Before another string of obsessive thoughts could take over again, the green-eyed man stepped out of the shadows and joined Rodrigue by his side.

“There’s no point in causing him more harm, just finish it.”

Rodrigue threw a gleeful look towards Gustave before nodding. “No point indeed, so do it.”

Now shone by what little light that angle of the tunnel gave, the green-eyed figure materialized into the same man Gustave had grown to know. Even if it were for a few moments, scattered throughout the years, he could never mistake him. Strands from his tapered jet-black hair stuck onto his forehead as he turned towards Rodrigue, a smidge of surprise edged onto his fair features. Silence filled the tunnel as both men stared back at each other.

“You’re the one with the gun,” Rodrigue said as he circled around him. “Do it.”

A scuffle of steps now sounded as the two men guarding the exit made their way out of the tunnel, anticipating what was about to happen. The man with the gun stayed frozen in place for a few more seconds, turning his head to the side as to not show whatever string of contemplation was playing out on his face. But just like everything up to that point, as if someone had flipped a switch, the man shook off the speck of emotion left on his face and stepped forward.

A wave of adrenaline hit Gustave as he now scrambled onto his feet, “Wait! Please don’t.”

However, before he could even manage to put a hand up in defense, the man was already in front of him, the barrel of the gun buried into his forehead. Whatever ounce of air left inside of him disappeared, no trace to be found as he made a slow descent onto his knees. He was lost for words. He was lost for life. Out of all the people who he could’ve imagined to be the one’s to end his life, the one before him, the one holding a cold metal pistol onto his skin, was the one he never expected and the one he never wanted.

A sudden trickle of tears invaded Gustave’s eyes. He had no idea why. He couldn’t explain it. Fearing death wasn’t something he would place at the top of his list in that moment. Many years of captivity had already made him come to terms with that, going as far as to even considering completing the deed himself if need be. But in that tunnel, right there, there was no denying he felt something deep in his core. It was this, this person, it was always this person, the one he didn’t want to leave.

For a moment the world around them turned black, as if no one else existed. Just them and the gun separating them.

Gustave managed to let out a few sniffles as tears began to fall down his cheeks. “You don’t have to,” he said as he flickered his gaze up to the man.

And right there, for a moment, barely perceivable by anyone looking from afar, he saw it. The small prick of hesitation, present in the quick twitch of his eye and the tip of the gun moving away from him, but all of that ended when the sound of a gunshot cut through the air.