Unbearable by Wren Page A

Blood drips from the tip and dots the white
snow beneath it in crimson. “That's for helping kill my mother, you bastard.”
    Shock
fills his eyes as they bulge out of his head. His hands clamp down on the wound
and blood seeps through his fingertips. Wobbling knees buckle beneath him as he
drops to the snow, clutching what's left of his stomach.
    “Maybe
this will send Hestor the message that I will avenge my mother's death.” Dropping to a squat, I look him in the eyes. “May
you rot in hell, Tobias. Don't worry, I'll send Hestor to join you soon enough.” I blow him a kiss, rising
back to a stance.
    His
chest heaves one last breath before he topples face first into the snow. My
throat closes as I cup a hand over my mouth. Though the bastard needed to pay
for his crimes, taking a life never got easier. Tears slip from the heavy pools
in my eyes and I plunge the bloodied knife into the snow. Pulling it back, red
ice drizzles along the steel blade and I stab it once more into the pure snow,
washing away the sin.
    Tobias
is the last name on the list of men who assisted Hestor .
Now, I go after the dwarf sorcerer himself. But not tonight. My weary bones cry out for rest, and I need to check in with my sister, still
wrought with grief over our mother's death. If she ever finds out what I've
been doing, she'll never forgive me. She is too pure to even think about
killing for revenge, or killing anything for that matter. So I must.
    Even
though we are not blood kin, her mother raised me like we were. And if Snow
were to share the same fate as her mother, my heart would shatter. She is my
world. My sister. My love. And I must keep her pure. So I do what has to be done in order for her to
remain Snow White.
    Darkness
overshadows the last of the light, casting blackness through the trees. The
slice of crescent moonlight fails to illuminate my path. But I know these woods
like the back of my hand, the ones the townsfolk say are haunted.
    For I'm the one that haunts them.
    I
swipe at the remnants of the frozen tears gripping my cheeks like a lifeline.
They are the last bits of my soul not filled with hatred and revenge. The
boning in my corset stabs at me, piercing through the fabric. Sucking in a
sharp breath, I reel in the pain of my legs and stomach. I force a step on
wobbly ankles, fighting to remain upright.
    My
legs crisscross as I stumble through the drifts, now inches deeper than they
were. I must make it to the bridge; there I'm sure to be found by Snow if I
don't make it home. She never ventures farther than the bridge. I've always
warned her not to.
    Wind
whips through the trees, smothering my face in a mask of flurries that sting my
already icy cheeks. My steps slow, each one languishing as I hobble along,
fighting the wind and my heavy, torn clothing. The dark posts of the bridge
come into view and my heart leaps. Jutting my hands in front of me, I reach for
it like a lifeline, a savior. Blood stains my trembling fingers and I jerk them
back to the safety of the folds in my drenched skirt.
    One
more step and it's within reach. My foot sets down on the rickety planks that
bow beneath my weight. Wind howls in my ears, barking at me to continue on.
Warmth settles in my heart as I place my second foot on the safety of the
bridge. Snow can find me now.
    Creaking
startles my thoughts and I drop my gaze to the wood beneath my feet. Sheets of
ice peek back through the gaps in the boards. Another creak stings my ears,
followed by a snap sparking tremors through my body,
and I grip the railing covered in snow. I need to move. I need to run. But my
body refuses and anchors to its spot, willing the bridge to hold.
    I
lift a foot and press it on another plank as my heart hammers so hard dizziness
swarms me. The loud snap that follows is the last one to hit my ears as I
plummet to the icy depths below. My body breaks the sheeted barrier, plunging
me into the frigid water. Arms and legs flail, tangling themselves in my heavy
skirts.