CHAPTER 39: A BARGAIN WITH THE DARKNESS

                                    

                                          
The relentless storm outside beat against the crumbling cabin like the world itself was trying to batter down the walls. Thunder roared in the distance, accompanied by bright flashes of lightning that momentarily illuminated the shadow-filled room. Bound tightly to the old wooden chair, Charles’s breath came in ragged gasps. The rope that Simon had secured around his wrists and ankles cut into his skin, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the fear roiling inside him.
Simon stood a few feet away, his back turned, calmly rummaging through the contents of the duffel bag as though they were not on the brink of an inevitable confrontation. Charles's mind raced, desperately trying to find some way to reach Simon, to get through to the man who had brought him to the brink of death and held him there, poised to push him over the edge.
The sound of rain hammering against the roof was deafening, but not enough to drown out the suffocating silence between the two men. Simon hadn’t spoken since tying him up. He didn’t need to. His actions made his intentions clear.
Charles shifted uncomfortably, feeling the knots around his wrists bite deeper. He tested them subtly, trying to see if there was any give, but Simon had been meticulous. The rope was unforgiving, each movement causing his skin to tear and burn.
“What’s the endgame, Simon?” Charles finally managed to choke out, his voice hoarse. “What do you expect to accomplish with this?”
Simon didn’t immediately turn around. He continued to methodically move items from the bag, laying them out on the floor as if preparing for a ritual. Duct tape, a hunting knife, and what looked like a small crowbar gleamed under the weak light of the flashlight that Simon had placed on the ground beside him.
The sight of the tools made Charles’s stomach churn. He could feel the cold sweat rolling down his neck despite the chilling air. Whatever Simon had planned, it wasn’t just about killing him—it was about making him suffer. Charles had seen that look in other men’s eyes before, but never in someone who had such a personal vendetta against him. The coldness in Simon’s face told Charles this wasn’t just about a single death. It was about revenge, deep and calculated.
Finally, Simon stood and turned to face him, his expression calm, almost serene, but there was a darkness behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t just a man bent on getting even—he was a man who had crossed the line into something much more dangerous. Simon had the look of someone who had made peace with the violence he was about to commit.
“I told you,” Simon said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the rain, “this isn’t about changing the past. This is about making you understand what you’ve done.”
Charles swallowed hard. “I get it, Simon. I’ve destroyed lives, ruined people. I was ruthless—there’s no excuse for what I’ve done. But this… this won’t change anything. You’re not going to get back what you lost.”
Simon took a slow step forward, crouching down so that he was eye-level with Charles. His face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with a cold fury.
“You still don’t understand,” Simon whispered. “This isn’t about getting something back. It’s about showing you—showing you and everyone like you—that actions have consequences. Real consequences.”
Charles’s pulse quickened as Simon’s words hit home. He realized then that Simon wasn’t doing this just for revenge; he was doing it to make a point. This wasn’t just about what had happened to his father—it was about proving to Charles that no one was untouchable. Not even men like him.
Charles struggled to find something, anything, that might make Simon hesitate. “There are other ways,” he said, his voice shaky but insistent. “I can make this right. I can help you, Simon. Money, power, whatever you want—you can have it. We can fix this.”
But Simon shook his head slowly, almost sadly. “You think you can buy your way out of this? That’s exactly the problem, Charles. You think everything can be solved with money.”
“Not everything,” Charles pleaded, his voice breaking. “But this… this doesn’t have to end with both of us destroyed. Let me help you.”
Simon stood abruptly, stepping back as though the conversation was finished. He glanced toward the hunting knife on the floor, the cold steel reflecting the faint light of the room. For a terrifying moment, Charles thought Simon was about to pick it up, but instead, Simon turned away, pacing back and forth in front of the door, as if wrestling with his own thoughts.
For the first time since their journey began, Charles saw something shift in Simon’s demeanor. There was hesitation in the way he moved, a brief flicker of doubt that Charles latched onto like a lifeline.
“This isn’t who you are, Simon,” Charles continued, seizing the opportunity. “You’re not a killer. You’re not like me.”
Simon stopped pacing but didn’t turn around. His back was to Charles, his head bowed slightly as if considering the words. Charles felt a spark of hope ignite within him. Maybe he had gotten through, maybe he had found the one thread of humanity still left in Simon.
“Let me go,” Charles urged. “We can walk away from this. No one else has to get hurt. You can still have a life, Simon. Don’t throw it all away for me. I’m not worth it.”
For a moment, it seemed like Simon was listening. The storm outside raged on, but inside the cabin, the silence stretched, thick and pregnant with possibility. Charles held his breath, waiting for Simon to respond.
Finally, Simon spoke, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re right. I’m not like you.”
Charles exhaled in relief, feeling the tension ease slightly. Maybe, just maybe, Simon would let him go.
But then Simon turned around, and the look in his eyes was colder than ever.
“That’s why I’m going to make sure you never forget what you’ve done.”
Charles's hope shattered. He had been so close, so close to breaking through to Simon, but the man standing in front of him wasn’t going to let go of his anger. Simon’s eyes were locked onto Charles’s, and there was no longer any doubt in them.
Simon picked up the duct tape from the floor and approached Charles again, his movements deliberate and controlled. Charles’s heart pounded in his chest as Simon tore off a strip of tape and pressed it firmly over his mouth. Charles’s muffled protests were drowned out by the storm.
Without a word, Simon moved behind Charles and started tightening the ropes around his wrists and ankles, making sure they were secure. Charles thrashed against the bindings, but Simon’s grip was unyielding. It was useless—he wasn’t going anywhere.
Once Simon was satisfied that Charles was completely immobilized, he stepped back, surveying his handiwork. The storm outside howled louder, as if the earth itself was protesting the dark turn of events.
Charles’s mind raced, his body trembling with fear. This was it. There was no more bargaining, no more pleading. Simon had made up his mind.
“I’m going to leave you here, Charles,” Simon said softly, his voice barely audible over the storm. “Alone. Powerless. Just like my father was.”
Charles’s eyes widened in horror as Simon’s words sank in. He thrashed harder against the ropes, his muffled screams echoing in the empty cabin, but Simon didn’t flinch. He simply turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
Simon paused at the threshold, looking back one last time. “Goodbye, Charles.”
And with that, Simon stepped out into the storm, closing the door behind him.
The sound of the rain beating against the cabin walls intensified, but all Charles could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the sound of his ragged breathing muffled by the tape. He was alone now—completely and utterly alone.
As the darkness closed in around him, Charles felt the weight of his decisions crashing down on him. All his life, he had controlled his own fate, manipulating others, pulling strings from behind the scenes. But now, for the first time, he was truly powerless.
Simon had left him to die in this forsaken place, and Charles knew that no one would come for him. There would be no rescue, no last-minute salvation.
There was only the storm.
And the darkness.