The Devil's Good Girl-Chapter 301: Farewell

"Ugh!" Marcus’s breath hitched as his entire body stopped moving altogether. He glanced at Jackson, who displayed a faster speed than him.

Crack...

The sound of flesh ripping and bones breaking resonated in his ears. The red glow in his eyes slowly disappeared while staring at Jackson’s sharp side profile. His reaction, however, was unlike what one would expect.

Marcus smiled subtly in relief. "Thank..." he trailed off as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "... you."

With one swift pull, his heart remained in Jackson’s grip while Marcus’s body landed with a loud thud. Gazing at the beating heart in his hand, Jackson closed his eyes and clasped it into many pieces.

When his eyes veered on Marcus’s back, he could still see the man’s back heaving. However, this didn’t surprise him anymore. Even without a heart, Marcus would stay conscious for a minute or two. He was, after all, had been turned into a monster.

"Hah..." Marcus’s breath turned into a short and calculated gasp, his hand reaching out to Jackson’s ankle.

"I don’t like you because of what you were trying to do with her," Jackson whispered. "But I do feel bad that you ended up like this."

Marcus needed to face judgment, but not in this grotesque way. He still had to pay for his crimes, especially with what he had done to Alicia. Jackson was aware of Michael’s story — thanks to Fil.

"But I guess you were fated to end like this," said Jackson, reminded of what Fil told him.

Fil lived a miserable life in all of her lifetimes because of the other persona within her. Filomena attracted omen, magneting all sorts of bad energy and bad people. In a way, Fil and Vincent were also done by Filomena.

Jackson was not a bit pleased at the fact that he thought she lived some good lives. All this time, he believed there were times Fil didn’t need him in some of her lives. But she did. She needed him because, behind closed doors, she suffered.

The mere thought of it brought a deep frown on his face.

"Fil..." Marcus forced out a breath, using the remaining ounce of his energy to speak to him.

Jackson arched a brow. "What about her?"

Did she love Fil this much that she was the only one he could think of in the last seconds of his life?

This assumption was no surprise. Fil simply had this effect on people, after all. Even Jackson was guilty of thinking of her in the last moments of his life. If only she didn’t revived him, he would have died with her in his mind.

Jackson’s train of thought halted when he heard Marcus force out a breath.

"Danger."

"Danger?" Jackson squatted down and lowered his head. "What about Fil?"

Marcus hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness, his eyes rolling back in his head. He still forced out his message, a knowledge of what Quentin was trying to do.

"Trap..." he breathed out. "Fil... he wants to split you — ahh...!"

Marcus felt his entire body throb as if this unknown energy was giving him another surge of power.

"Ah!" he gasped once more, clasping the floor with the continuous throb of his entire being.

Jackson leaped a step back, eyes down on Marcus.

"Ahh...!!" Marcus yelled as he slowly hunched, his ripped flesh slowly coming together. He clasped his head as he screamed his lungs out.

"This is new," Jackson whispered as he squinted, keeping himself calm despite the uncertainty growing before him.

Michael, who found shelter in the bedroom, was already peeking when he only heard silence after that abrupt thud once. His eyes, which were peeking through the gaps of the door, widened.

"What..." his breath hitched when Marcus suddenly disappeared from his vantage point, only to reappear in front of the door once again.

Fortunately, Jackson was fast enough to block the man. Jackson stood beside Marcus and held the man’s arm to stop him from reaching Michael with his pointy fingers.

Time slowed down for Michael, unable to move from his spot. All he could do was gaze at the diabolical creature peeking at him. If earlier, Marcus looked like a feral creature with two fangs, this time, he looked like a demon.

Dark veins crawled underneath his eyes. The white area of his eyes looked darker by the second, and his irises looked like blood. Blood dripped from his temple, straight from the little bone that was protruding out of his forehead.

A devil.

A literal one.

Thud!

Michael fell on his bottom, eyes still locked with that glowing red eye watching him from the gap of the door. This should be a nightmare, he thought. There was no way this was happening in real life.

At the back of Michael’s head, he didn’t want to digest this situation. It didn’t make sense to him. This situation was out of human understanding. There was no logic. Hence, a nightmare was the first thing that came into his mind.

But the fear in his heart, the weakness in his knees, and that gaze that made his skin crawl felt real.

Michael stared at the glowing eyes peeking at him through the gap until Jackson moved and Marcus flew back. Before he could even process what happened, Jackson pulled the door closed.

Unlike earlier, in which there was only silence, Michael could hear the fight outside. He could hear everything shattering and bodies crashing on the walls and everywhere.

"This..." Michael slowly covered his ears, still traumatized. "This must be a nightmare. This can’t be real."

Marcus’s red eyes kept flashing in his head, scaring him to death. Even if Michael closed his eyes, he could still see the red eyes in his mind. No matter how much Michael denied this, even trying to wake himself up, he wouldn’t.

In the end, Michael could only gaze at the door in fear.

"This is real," he whispered, flinching when the door suddenly flew open from the outside.

Thankfully, Michael was able to duck and shield his body. Thus, he barely felt some piece of the door land on him. Peeking over his arms, he quickly turned to the person who crashed into the door.

It was Jackson.

"Jack!" Michael yelled, only to stop when he caught a figure standing by the broken entrance.

Slowly, Michael turned to look. His fear seeped deep into the very roots of his heart, to the very foundation of his bones at the sight of Marcus. His eyes fell on the blood and on the rip in Marcus’s blouse.

Earlier, Michael saw that Jackson destroyed a human heart. He assumed it was Marcus. But now, under the hole in the fabric, Marcus’s exposed chest was... fine.

Jackson’s cough halted Michael’s brain from turning. The latter panicked as he turned to Jackson once.

"Jack!"

Jackson tried to get up, moving the broken furniture that fell on him during his crash. He glanced at Michael, his expression sharp, which indicated he was fine and that he could still fight. His eyes also veered to Marcus’s chest.

What was going on?

Jackson was sure the one he destroyed was Marcus’s heart. Aiming for an Abnormal’s heart should be a sure kill. Yet, not only did Marcus stay alive, but he was even faster and more powerful.

’His appearance also changed,’ thought Jackson, studying Marcus from head to toe.

His eyes focused more on the dark veins crawling around Marcus’s under eye. Earlier, those dark veins only reached under his eyes, but now some of them already reached his jaw. And that little bump in Marcus’s forehead looked more like a little horn.

"This is impossible," Jackson spat out under his breath. "What did Quentin do to you?"

"Tehehe!" Marcus laughed through his razor teeth. "What did my lord do to me? Well, he awoke the real me!"

Marcus placed his hand across his chest. "This... is my true form!" he stretched his fingers, grinning from ear to ear as if high in ecstasy.

"True form?" Jackson repeated quietly, lifting his eyes to the demon. "How is that your true form?"

Marcus smirked. "Filomena. The child of evil. Jackson Fitzroy, do you think you’re the only one who is lucky to be blessed by the child of evil? Or rather, do you even know what Filomena, our great goddess, can do?!"

Jackson and Michael, who were listening to the ecstatic voice, could only stare at him.

"Quentin is simply kind enough to awaken me and ask me to join him welcome our great goddess... our queen, the last surviving line of the darkness," Marcus moaned as he dramatically clasped his chest, eyes falling on Jackson. His lips curled up once again.

He stretched his hands in Jackson’s direction and squinted. "For that to happen, I must take back what was stolen from her." His eyes glowed even brighter, setting all of his attention to Jackson, the man who was meant to die tonight.

"Your time is up, Jackson Fitzroy."

As soon as those words rolled out of his tongue, Marcus reappeared in front of Jackson and grinned.

"Farewell."