Wanted To Live But Found Dead

CHAPTER TWO

Cold rain poured without mercy, heavy droplets striking her skin with a violence that almost rivaled the pain already tearing through her body.

Within seconds, her torn clothes were soaked through, clinging to her frame, plastering damp strands of tangled hair against her bruised, swollen face.

The chill cut straight through flesh and bone, settling deep into her core, but she welcomed it with a strange, desperate gratitude.

Pain meant she was still alive.

She didn’t look back at the mansion far away behind her.

That house had already taken everything worth taking, her childhood, her innocence, her dignity, her body, and her hope.

If she turned around, even once, she feared it would reach out with invisible hands, drag her back, and finish what it had started.

So she got up and started walking.

Barefoot on wet gravel, limping down the deserted road, every step sending sharp agony shooting up her legs.

Her muscles trembled violently beneath her, threatening to give way at any moment.

Her vision swam, the world blurring and darkening around her, but she clenched her teeth and forced herself forward anyway.

"Run Elara! Run far away!! Run until the memories can’t find you!!!

The rain intensified, transforming the world into streaks of gray and silver, headlights from distant roads reflecting like ghostly apparitions.

Blood seeped from the cuts on her skin, washing away with the rain, trailing faint, dissolving lines behind her, evidence of her existence already being erased.

She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t know where she could go.

She had no family left to run to. No friends waiting with open arms. No safe place, no destination, no plan.

Just the instinctive, animal need to put as much distance as possible between herself and that house.

Time lost its meaning as she walked. Minutes blurred into something shapeless and suffocating.

Her breathing grew shallow and uneven, each breath scraping painfully through her throat.

Her knees buckled more frequently now, her strength draining rapidly with every step she forced herself to take.

She stumbled hard, barely managing to catch herself against a rusted streetlight pole. Her forehead pressed against the cold metal as she gasped for air, dizziness crashing over her in a suffocating wave.

"I can’t… I can’t stop…"

Stopping meant collapsing. Collapsing meant dying.

Her fingers brushed against something unfamiliar at her side, the small purse slung awkwardly over her shoulder.

The maid's purse.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of them. At their tears. At their trembling hands as they had helped her when they didn’t have to.

With shaking fingers, she pulled the purse open, nearly dropping its contents onto the rain-soaked pavement. Inside were a few crumpled bills, damp and wrinkled, and beneath them, a small phone, old but intact.

Her breath hitched sharply.

The maid’s voice echoed faintly in her mind, filled with fear and urgency.

'There’s a phone… it works.'

Elara stared at it as if it might disappear if she blinked too hard.

There was only one number she knew by heart.

One she had memorized long ago, not out of love, but out of spite. Out of pride. Out of a refusal to ever need what had once been offered to her freely.

A lifeline she had thrown away.

Her fingers trembled violently as she dialed.

The phone rang... Once... Twice.

Each second stretched unbearably long, the sound pounding in her ears like a countdown to something irreversible.

She pressed the phone tighter to her ear, her lips quivering as tears finally broke free, hot and uncontrollable.

Then...

“Hello?”

The voice was deep, husky, steady, and grounded in a way that felt unreal after everything she had endured.

Lucien Hale!

Elara bit down on her lip, fighting desperately to hold herself together. She had survived starvation, beatings, and humiliation. She had survived being broken again and again.

But this voice... This voice shattered her.

“Lucien…” she whispered, her voice barely recognizable, splintered and raw. “It’s me… Elara.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” he asked immediately.

“I...” Her throat closed completely as sobs tore free from her chest. She shook her head helplessly even though he couldn’t see her. “I don’t know… I just... Lucien!”

“I’m coming to you,” Lucien said firmly and reassuringly.

The certainty in his voice was devastating, which made Elara break completely.

She didn’t even understand why she was crying so hard anymore, only that someone had promised to come for her.

That someone cared enough not to question her, not to doubt her, not to ask her to justify her pain.

She had ignored him once. She had walked away from the one person who had offered her protection when she had still believed she could survive alone.

Guilt slammed into her chest like a tidal wave.

“I’m sorry…” she tried to say, but the words tangled uselessly with her sobs.

“Stay where you are,” Lucien said, his voice softening just enough to hurt. “You don’t need to talk. Just stay. I'm on my way.”

Then the call disconnected.

Elara lowered the phone slowly, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped it.

Somehow, she knew. Even without directions. Even without her telling him where she was. He would find her.

Hope flickered weakly in her chest as she lifted her head, blinking rain from her eyes as she scanned her surroundings.

A bus stop? A tree? An overpass? Anything... somewhere she could take shelter until he arrived.

She took a step toward the side of the road. But... Blinding headlights rushed towards her too fast.

Pain exploded through her body instantly.

The impact sent her body flying backward, slamming violently onto the wet concrete.

Her head struck the ground with a sickening crack, stars bursting behind her eyes as her scream was swallowed by the rain.

The car didn’t stop. Its tires sprayed water as it sped away, disappearing into the night as if nothing had happened.

Elara lay sprawled on the road, unmoving, staring up at the dark, merciless sky as the rain hit her face.

Warm blood trickled down the side of her head, mixing with rain as it soaked into the ground beneath her.

Her vision blurred completely. Her breaths came shallow… uneven… fading.

“Dear Lord…” she whispered faintly, her voice barely audible over the downpour and choking on her blood. “If there is… a second chance… another life…”

Her lips trembled weakly. “I beg you… Give it to me. I... I will… right my wrongs…” Her eyes then slid shut.

The world dissolved into darkness.

*******

There were voices. Almost distant and panicked.

“Elara... Elara! Stay with me!”

Strong hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her desperately.

“You can’t die on me,” a voice said fiercely, breaking through the rain. “I forbid you to.”

She tried to respond. Tried to open her eyes. But it felt like she was sinking underwater, sounds muffled, and her body impossibly heavy.

“Elara, can you hear me?” the voice pleaded now, raw and unguarded. “Open your eyes. Please... open your eyes. Come on! Elara! Baby. You can't do this to me, baby!”

Warmth enveloped her suddenly.

She felt herself being lifted, cradled against a solid chest, arms wrapping around her with a protectiveness that made her want to open her eyes badly but she couldn’t.

The steady rhythm of a heartbeat pressed against her ear, calming her racing thoughts, anchoring her to the world.

Lucien! It's him. Only him.

Even in death, she knew it was him. Her heart fluttered weakly.

"I’m sorry…" She tried to say it, but no sound came. Her body went limp completely, and everything became dark.

Elara Vaughn was dead!