The Hockey Star’s Remorse

The blinding lights bore down on me, casting harsh shadows across the sterile room. I felt a flicker of defiance amidst the terror as I stared at the camera lens, knowing that somewhere out there, Timothy might be watching. 

“Stella, shut up!” Bruce’s voice sliced through the tension, his eyes ablaze with frustration. “You’re interrupting the stream.” Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Stella’s smirk barely faltered. “I want to make sure Timothy’s watching,” she retorted, her tone laced with a sinister edge that sent shivers down my spine.

“Timothy?” I couldn’t help but speak his name, a desperate plea for some semblance of salvation. “He’ll find you. And when he does…” 

Bruce’s patience wore thin, his hand lashing out to strike me across the cheek with a sickening thud. Pain exploded across my face, but I refused to let fear silence me. “Don’t say his name,” he growled, his voice laced with menace as he moved to cover my mouth, his fingers digging into my skin. 

I met his glare with defiance, refusing to let my spirit be broken by their cruelty. But Stella’s callousness knew no bounds. “The viewers are annoyed,” she remarked coldly. “They want to hear your screams, Evie, not your complaining.” 

The sheer horror of her words made my blood run cold. I fought against Bruce’s grasp, the need to get his grimy fingers off overwhelming me. But the bindings rendered my struggles futile. 

Stella’s gaze shifted to Bruce, a demanding edge in her voice. “Get the chemicals again. It’s what they want.” 

Bruce hesitated, a rare display of reluctance evident in his eyes. “It’s too dangerous,” he protested, a hint of concern cutting through his facade of cruelty. 

Stella’s patience wore thin, 

ar voice turning Icy. “I don’t care. They want to see her suffer.” 

My heart raced as I watched their exchange, a nauseating realization settling within me. They weren’t even on the same page with how far they wanted to go. 

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the stench of chemicals. As the tension crackled between Stella and Bruce, I strained against the restraints, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“You’re a wimp, Bruce,” Stella sneered, her words dripping with disdain. “I should’ve hired an actual man to do the job.” 

Bruce’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Fine! Do it yourself then,” he snapped back, his patience wearing thin. 

Stella’s retort was swift. “Hello, no! And don’t you dare speak to me like that!” she spat, her anger palpable. “While you are the one who’s been screwing everything up, I would never touch that stuff.” 

Bruce glowered at her. The tension was escalating by the second. Sensing an opportunity, I seized the moment, hoping to exploit their rift. 

“You’re both pathetic,” I interjected, my voice laced with contempt. “You; Bruce, couldn’t even kill me yourself, had to hire someone else who couldn’t even do it right.” 

Bruce’s nostrils flared with anger, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Shut up!” he barked at me. 

Stella halted mid–insult, a perplexed look crossing her face. “What’s she talking about, Bruce?” she demanded. 

I seized the moment, my voice ringing out with accusation. “Bruce almost got Scarlett killed because he 

mistook her for me!” I declared. “Of course, if he had actually been there to do it himself, he would’ve had the right description.” 

The room fell silent, the weight of my words sinking in. Stella’s expression shifted from anger to *confusion, realization dawning in her eyes. 

Bruce’s face paled, his eyes widening with alarm. He opened his mouth to protest, but the truth had already been laid bare. Panic flickered in his gaze, his attempt to control the situation slipping through his fingers. 

Stella’s gaze snapped to Bruce, a mixture of shock and fury etched on her features. “Is this true?” she asked tentayily. 

Bruce’s silence spoke volumes, confirming the damning truth of his mistake. My heart raced with a glimmer of hope. 

“It was a mix–up with the hitman I hired,” Bruce admitted, his voice strained with an attempt to salvage the situation, though his words only added fuel to the fire. 

Stella’s panic was palpable, her eyes wide with shock and fury. “You nearly killed my sister!” she accused, her voice trembling with rage. 

“Stella, calm down,” Bruce attempted to placate her, his tone tinged with urgency. 

“She thought it was me, you know,” she gritted out, advancing on him. “She accused me of having her shot.” 

“Stella-” 

“Shut up!” Stella’s voice cracked with emotion. “And you were just going to keep it a secret this whole time. Turns out, you had just as much of a hand in that as Evie.” 

“I never intended for that to happen,” Bruce muttered, his voice strained. “She was just there at the wrong place at the wrong time, and the guy was probably too far away, or maybe he didn’t remember the description.” 

Stella scoffed. “Then maybe don’t buy the cheapest hitman you could find on the internet, dumbass! Evie isn’t even a red head!” 

“The hitman couldn’t tell the difference,” Bruce confessed, his words weighted with a callous flippancy that only seemed to stoke the fire of Stella’s fury. 

Stella’s anger surged, her eyes blazing with a searing intensity. “Couldn’t tell the difference?” she seethed. “Are you kidding me?” 

“Would you stop yelling? She lived, didn’t she?” Bruce shouted back, leaning over her. 

“How can you be so flippant about this?” Stella’s ch*st heaved and she turned away from him. “So. careless? She could’ve died if she wasn’t so lucky!” 

Right then, Bruce rolled his eyes, his teeth bared in a snarl. “You’re getting really close to the same fate. Keep talking to me the way you are right now.” 

But Stella was beyond reason, her anger consuming her. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re some greasy nob*dy who I paid to be here!” 

“I don’t need your stupid money.” His eyes followed her as she backed away, bumping into the table of 

various tools. As her eyes scanned over each of them, he became alert. “What are you doing?” 

“I’ll kill you, you stupid bastard!” she spat, her hand reaching for one of the knives laid out on the table. Her fingers curled around the hilt, wielding the blade with a frenzied desperation. 

Bruce’s annoyance simmered into a dark fury as Stella brandished the knife, her movements erratic and menacing. “Put that down, Stella,” he growled, his patience wearing thin.. 

But Stella was unrelenting, her grip tightening around the knife as she advanced towards Bruce, her eyes wild with a mix of anger and terror. The air crackled with danger, the room suffused with at palpable sense of impending violence. 

Bruce’s face contorted with rage and fear, his hand moving in a swift, desperate motion. In a flash, she lunged forward, snatching the knife from Stella’s grip and plunging it into her, the blade sinking into her abdomen. 

Time seemed to freeze as the room filled with Stella’s strangled cry. She staggered backward, a look of betrayal and agony etched across her face. Blood seeped from the wound, staining her clothes as she crumpled to the ground, the echo of her cries reverberating in the stark room.