Hey guys MP here! I know I haven't updated in an extremely long time and for that I apologize. I've had a huge case of writer's block and laziness. But that's no excuse! So if you're still a fan of this story please continue giving Deadly Love your support. The story is almost finished and as I upload this document I'm working on the next chapter and possibly the last chapter of Deadly Love. As always please review and tell me what you think. This is the first time I've actually named a chapter but it seemed to just fit.

Well enough of my rambling! I present to you the next chapter of Deadly Love! Enjoy!

Deadly Love

Chapter 14: In a Place Where the Beauty is but an Illusion

(Oh you'll see this phrase repeatedly in the chapter, it's taking the place of line breaks)

The shadow of a figure is seen walking across the floor, the sight of all those that are dead doesn't even deter them. They take it all in. The long black cloak drags across the floor, staining unseen as it soaks up the blood that has been spilled. The figure finally stops as it reaches their destination, the door the only obstacle left in the way. Without much effort the door is kicked down and the figure merely tilts their head to the left as the bullet that was, poorly aimed for that matter, whizzes by their head. The cloak rustles as it moves to look at the man. As for the man, standing across the room with the door kicked down, is standing still in fear. He can't see their face; he can just feel the sick sadistic satisfaction at seeing him in this state. He is shaking. His heart is racing, he is sweating, and he knows. He knows that today is his last day. He just simply can't believe it. How could one person take out all of his men?

"Who are you?!" He yells his voice cracking underneath all the stress. "Why are you doing this?!" Whoever it is just smiles and in that smile he is able to see it. His death. He knows he shouldn't even bother praying for mercy, for his death will not be quick. It will be slow and it will be painful. Yelling out his terror, he empties the clip in the gun, thinking that if he was going to die he would not make it any easier for him. As they simply sidestep the trajectory of the bullets. He falls to a heap on the floor. His pants are soiled and the only thing he can do now is wait.

"I won't tell you who I am, because I am no one. I am merely what was created from the hatred of this world. I was given no name at the time of my creation." She, he, it informs him. The voice is scratchy as if hoarse from yelling for so long. Even still he can't tell if it's a woman or a man who will end his life today. He suddenly regrets-

"Regretting your choice of using up all your bullets?" The figure asks a hint of mocking is barely distinguishable. His breathing comes to a screeching halt as whoever it is finishes his own thought. How could-

"I know?" More amusement spills from the voice. Is it-

"Reading your mind?" Now the shoulders are shaking as full blown laughter erupts from the cloaked covered figure. The laughter sends chills up his spine. There is nothing happy about that laugh. It is void of emotion, hollow even. "Call it what you will, I simply know what you are going to do before you do it." The voice informs him. As the figure steps forward, he simply closes his eyes. His fate is sealed. For a while, there is nothing. The only sound that can be heard is his own harsh breathing. His eyes burst open and a scream tears its way through his lips. It has begun. And for too long all that is audible, if anyone was around to hear it, are the wails of a man in pain. Until finally the Gods seem to have mercy and end his life.

Wiping the blood off the blade, the figure reaches into a pocket hidden in the cloak. A picture of the man is seen in the dim moonlight and with a red marker is marked with an X. The picture falls to the floor beside the now dead man. In their hands is another picture. The photo is of a man, in his 20's.

"…Gizmo." The same scratchy voice says. "I look forward to crossing your name out." The figure clutches their head and hisses out in pain. "I know, I know." They say, almost as if speaking to themselves. "Soon you will both rest in peace." The voice says before turning around and walking away.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

A woman is locked up in her room. Her figure is thin, dangerously so. Her eyes are bloodshot and dead. Her skin is grey and the bags are prominent underneath her eyes. And through it all she has her arms wrapped around her tightly, as if that is the only thing stopping from this woman-no this doll from breaking.

"Leah?" A soft woman's voice can be heard. And in the stillness of the room, it sounds as if the one word was spoken from a megaphone. Yet, the little doll doesn't even react. Our little doll just stares out not really seeing anything. The older woman sighs as she closes the door, knowing that like all the other days before, she won't get an answer. She never does.

With her head hung low, new tears spring up into the woman's eyes as she walks down the stairs. When she reaches the bottom, she is pulled into a warm embrace. Her wall breaks down as she cries at the loss she is feeling. She is a failure. It pains her every day to see her daughter so broken like that. What's worse is that there is nothing she can do to help. "What can I do Charlie?" She finally asks the man that she loves. The man merely sighs and begins to lose himself in memories of his biological daughter, once being in the same state as Leah.

"There really is nothing you can do Sue. God knows I tried when Bella was the same, but this is something they have to do on their own. No matter how much it hurts for us to see them like this."

The front door opens to reveal two people, Jacob Black and Seth Clearwater. One a friend and the other a brother by blood. "Hey mom," Seth steps forward to hug his mother. "Is she still-" Seth can't even finish his own sentence and drops it knowing his mother will know what he is asking.

"Every day since Blake left." She spits out the name Blake, not even bothering to keep the contempt out of her voice. Sue blames all this on the man who broke her daughter's heart. What nobody told Sue is that the reason Blake left was to protect Leah. Even though it was for Leah's protection, it still did not lessen the pain for Leah, for Seth, hell for anyone really.

Seth takes one last look up the stairs and doesn't find the strength the go up the stairs and see his sister like that- a shell of her former self. It's been 5 months since Blake left. Honestly, Seth doesn't know who to blame, Sam for saying that Blake had to leave or Blake for actually leaving. He knew what their reasons were, but he can't help feel that there could have been a way for things to have stayed how they were and still be safe. Seth sighs and takes one last look at his mother and realizes that even if Blake were to come back, Sue would make sure that he never took another step towards Leah. He can't stand it in there any longer and leaves the house.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

In a dark abandoned building there are two men. One is tied to a chair his head hanging low barely able to keep his eyes open due to all the bruises. The other is standing in front of him his arms crossed over his chest not even minding that his knuckles are bloodied. The man standing is Blake or as the underworld knows him, Gizmo. Gizmo walks to a table holding what looks to be tools covered in blood. He reaches for a clean towel and wipes away the blood on his knuckles. "Now I'm going to ask one more time. How can I get a hold of this new assassin?" The man tied to the chair is trying to catch his breath long enough to be able to answer the question. "I don't know. No one knows who the hell it is. We don't even know who it's after!" He stops to regain his breath.

"What do you mean by it?" Gizmo asks knowing that it is a strange way to describe someone. "Because no one knows if it's a man or a woman." He finally lifts his head and looks at Gizmo straight in the eye. "The only way you'll ever see it is if you're on its list. If it wants you dead, it'll hunt you down and it doesn't matter how many men you have guarding you, you'll all end up dead."

"Who's on its list?" Gizmo asks trying to squeeze ever bit of information he can. The man tied to the chair starts laughing. "No one knows! It just goes around killing!" Gizmo pinches the bridge of his nose and slowly exhales through his nose. He opens his eyes and pulls a knife from a pouch strapped to his leg. He grabs the man's hair and pulls back exposing his neck. Gizmo takes the knife and slashes across the neck effectively killing the man. He then takes a match and sets the man on fire. Once he is sure that everything is sufficiently burned he douses it with water so as not to spread. He gathers his things and leaves the building. He heads to his car in a filled parking lot. After throwing his things in the trunk he gets inside and leaves the lot. Once he reaches his destination, an apartment complex. He heads to his apartment making sure to take the route where he is less likely to be seen.

Once inside he takes a shower, washing away the grime and blood away. When he's done, he steps out and dries himself and puts on his boxers and a pair of sweatpants. He sits on the chair in the kitchen, going over everything he's learned and adding it to what he already knows. He runs his hand through his still damp hair and for a moment imagines that he's back in La Push. That he's back with the woman who he would gladly give this life up for and settle down with her. He smirks as he remembers every detail of Leah and imagines what it would be like to see her walking down the aisle towards him. He's not dumb. He knows he's hopelessly in love with Leah and that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. His smirk falters a bit when he thinks about how she must be doing. He knows he's hurt her but he's doing this for her. It sucks that he couldn't even bring a picture of her or anything that might be tied to her. Hell he couldn't even send a damn postcard to let her know that he's okay, that he thinks about her every damn day, and that he misses every single thing about her. Chuckling to himself he realizes that there wouldn't be enough space on a postcard to place all his thoughts of Leah on. Standing up he heads to his bedroom and ungracefully sits down on the bed. Taking deep breaths he slowly clears his head of all thoughts. Satisfied with that he lies down and after making sure he has enough weapons underneath his pillow, turns off the lamp. He takes one last deep breath and closes his eyes. Immediately he falls asleep, his dreams plagued of her.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

In La Push a certain Alpha still feels lingering bits of guilt. Every time Sam was on patrol with Seth he would see the images of Leah getting worse and worse. He knows he's to blame at least partially, and it doesn't make him feel any better. At first Emily wouldn't talk to him no matter how much he pled with her that it was the right thing to do as Alpha. As the months went by Emily slowly forgave him but he could never forgive himself. He couldn't forgive himself for ending things with Leah, he couldn't forgive himself for telling her that he had fallen in love with her cousin Emily, and he couldn't forgive himself for having a hand in sending Blake away.

Sam was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of a baby crying. Emily had left to go grocery shopping leaving him with their 2 month old son, Liam. He stood up and made his way to the nursery to rock Liam into silencing his cries. When Liam finally quieted down his cries, Sam couldn't help but smile. Liam was perfect. He was a mixture of both him and Emily. He went back to the living room and sat down on the couch, holding his son close to his chest as he fell back asleep. Here, holding his son, he couldn't but help to forget everything. All the thoughts that were troubling him just washed away. In this moment his heart forgot about the guilt and was replaced with love, joy, pride, and happiness at looking at his son. In this moment he could pretend that everything was okay and that's exactly what he did.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

The pain had faded some while ago, but now there was nothing left. I couldn't feel anything. I was…numb…empty. I couldn't even cry anymore. I guess we were only allotted so many tears and I used up all of mine. He was gone. A part of me had accepted that already. Another part of me, though, kept holding onto that small hope that he would walk right through my door. He would walk through the door and with his goofy smile say 'my bad, my bad' but he never did. I know I'm being dumb. He said it himself that he would come back but I was scared. I haven't heard anything from him. No letters, no emails, not even a phone call. I didn't if he was alive or if he was like Kira, gone for good. I know I've been like this for a while. I can hear my mom, Seth, Charlie, and the rest of the pack come and talk to me. But I can't move. I can't reply no matter how much I want to. I guess I must not want to enough since I'm still like this. I know mom hates Blake and she says that if he ever comes back that she'll kill him for making me like this. It breaks my heart to hear my mom crying because she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't know how to help me. The thing is that she can't. I have to help myself.

I've been fighting with myself for so long. One part of me is saying get up and pull my shit together and the other just wants to stay here. Well no more! Blake would hate it when he came back and saw me like this. I feel my resolve strengthen and I stand to go to the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm horrified at what I see. This isn't me. The me would hold her head up and I would make sure that WHEN Blake came back that I was healthy and waiting with my arms and heart open for him. I splash some water on my face and go downstairs. It feels so empty and cold. I head to the kitchen and see my mom nursing a cup of tea. She doesn't look up as I enter the kitchen; she seems lost in her thoughts. I make my way to her and place my hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She looks up startled and when she sees me she doesn't seem to understand. I grab her hand and try my best to smile but knowing me it comes out as something weird. I guess she realizes that she's not dreaming and I'm actually standing here. She jumps up and throws her arms around me and cries. I hold her, knowing that she needs this just as much as I need it. I hear myself saying 'I'm sorry' over and over again. She hushes me and just holds me saying how she's just glad that I'm finally back and that she was sorry. Pretty soon were both just rambling and I don't even think it actually makes sense. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that we understand each other and we do. I pull back to wipe away her tears and we end up laughing. At what I don't know but we can't help it.

In this moment I know I'll get better. I have to. Not just for me but for everyone that cares about me.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

He's running. Running because he knows that's the only chance he has of escaping with his life. He doesn't know how it found him but it did. A chill goes down his spine and he makes the mistake of looking back to see it giving chase. He looks to the front only to trip over something and falls to the ground. He's shaking so bad he can't even gather his bearings to try and stand again. He crawls, the only thing he is capable of. The sound of a hollow laughter makes him pause for a bit and he throws himself into trying to get away. He screams when he feels something snap. He turns and almost wishes that he hadn't. His ankle is bent at an angle that should never even be attempted. He looks up and sees that it is smiling at him. That smile, it's almost as if it finds the whole situation funny. He tries to crawl away again but the pain is unbearable and he's unable to move anymore. He turns himself over and sees that it hasn't moved from its place. It tilts its head almost confused at its surrender. He closes his eyes and for a moment doesn't feel anything then there's a sound like a pop and a sharp pain in his chest. He gasps as it spreads like a fire throughout his body and then he finds the pain dulling and his mind going dark. As he takes his last breath of the living world he can only thank whatever deity is up there, that his death was quick.

It takes a look and sees that his eyes are closed and his chest is no longer moving up and down in the rhythmic intake of breathing. It takes one last look at the blood staining the chest. It decided to be nice and give him a quick death, courtesy of a bullet to the heart. Just to make sure it fires another round into the head. Now it is satisfied that he is dead. It pulls out a picture of the man and crosses it out and drops it next to the body.

It turns and makes it way to the last one. It pulls out a familiar picture. The edges of the picture are almost worn from the continuous handling. It smiles almost giddily as it looks at the man in the picture. Gizmo. The last one.

-In a place where the beauty is but an illusion-

Gizmo heads to a worn out warehouse. His last lead has brought him here. He enters the warehouse and takes a look around. He doesn't see anything out of the ordinary and sighs in frustration as he realizes that it was dead end.

As he turns around he sees someone standing not 10 feet from him. He sees now what they mean when they said that you couldn't tell whether it's a man or a woman. The figure is dressed in all black and wears a cloak to cover the upper part of its face and hair. "So are you the one everyone is going crazy about?" Gizmo asks. His outward appearance shows that he's calm. Inside, though, his mind is going a thousand miles an hour. No one has survived after being found by it. But Gizmo isn't just anyone and he can't die. Not here and not now. He has someone waiting for him and he'll be damned if he doesn't get to see her again. It's been a long year and he misses her.

He notices that he never received an answer. "Hey can you even talk? Who are you? What do you call yourself?"

"I won't tell you who I am, because I am no one. I am merely what was created from the hatred of this world. I was given no name at the time of my creation." It informs him. Damn he can't even tell from the voice it's too scratchy and undistinguishable.

"I see…Please tell me you're not some religious psychotic cult leader, because if you are, then that makes everything so troublesome." Gizmo grumbles out. It's true those people were the worst type. They either didn't believe in what they were preaching but just doing it so they could manipulate people or they honestly believed in whatever nonsense they were sprouting. It starts laughing and Gizmo has to forcefully stop himself from shivering. That sound is scary as hell. It's not an evil laugh, it's not a mad laugh, it's just empty…void…hollow. Great he thinks to himself sarcastically he's dealing with someone who thinks that they can't die because they're already dead. Just fucking great. He has to stop himself from bashing his head into the nearest wall as he comes to a realization. "You're the one who lead me here weren't you?" It doesn't reply but nods its head. "Why? I mean I'm pretty sure you get that a lot, but from what I was able to gather you hunt down your prey. You let them hide themselves and then take pleasure in finding them. However, you lead me here. Meaning you wanted me to come to you. Why the change in pattern and why me?" He asks curious as to why he is different from the others.

It pulls out a picture from the inside of the cloak. It holds it up and Gizmo sees that it's a picture of him. He knows that after every kill it marks an X over the picture of its victim and leaves it next to the body. It places the picture on the table that it was standing next to. "So why do you want to kill me?" Gizmo asks.

"So that they may both rest in peace." It replies. "Who are they? Are you talking about Kira and Shadow?" It tilts its head as if wondering how he was able to make the connection. "It's something that I noticed a while back. All the people you've killed they posed a threat to either Kira or Shadow."

"I see. So you figured it out."

"Yeah I did. What I want to know is why."

"So that they may both rest in peace."

Gizmo wants to bash the skull of whoever this is. Yes he knows that already thank you for repeating it. What he wants to know is why it wants for both of them to rest in peace.

"In order to do that you must die as well." It says without any prompting. Gizmo smirks and laughs out loud. "Well you can try. Though I should tell you that the only person who ever had a chance of killing me was Shadow and she's dead." He slides into a fighting stance. While it was easier to start shooting he has a feeling that it doesn't want an easy fight.

It smiles and slides into a stance as well. The beginning of the end is near.