Gone with a Kiss

The soft glow of dawn was just beginning to penetrate the windows of Val's home, but the kitchen was already alight, a lone lamp burning on the table. Thomas sat there, sipping his coffee, smug satisfaction evident on his face. Each gulp he took confirmed for him: Val was gone, and his sins would remain hidden.

The sudden creak of the front door echoed loudly in the quiet room. The husband smirked, not looking up from his cup. "Took you long enough," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I thought I might have to come and help you out."

However, as Val stepped into the lamplight, the smirk quickly faded from his face. There she was, clothes charred and face smeared with soot, but very much alive. Her steely gaze met his, and there was cold determination in her voice as she said, "You should have."

Panic coursed through the husband's veins. The realization hit him hard: he had underestimated her. He fumbled as he tried to get up, knocking his chair over in the process, scrambling backward. The horror in his eyes was evident as he stammered, "But how?! You should be dead. Travis should have killed you."

Val advanced on him with deliberate steps, the weight of her cannons firm in her hands, their barrels gleaming ominously. Her voice was a whisper, a promise of retribution, "Well, Travis didn't."

The golden glow from the lamp illuminated the husband's desperate face as he found himself backed against the cool wooden wall of their home. His eyes darted about, looking for an escape route, but there was none. He felt trapped, much like the bird Val had once nursed back to health.

He tried to appeal to her maternal instincts, his voice shaky, "Look, honey, I'm sure we can work this out. I mean we're expecting! The child is going to need his—"

Before he could finish, the world spun as a sharp blow landed on his face. Val's voice cut through his dizziness, her tone icy and full of fury, "Don't you ever think of saying that word."

With terrifying precision, she placed the barrel of one of her guns beneath his chin, forcing him to tilt his head upwards. He could feel the cold metal pressing against his skin, a stark reminder of the icy grip Val had over the situation. His heart raced, each beat echoing the fear that clouded his mind. "Don't worry," Val whispered, her words dripping with chilling promise, "it'll all be over soon." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

The room was filled with a sudden blinding flash and an explosive noise. But the husband felt nothing—only the cold wall rapidly freezing behind his head and a sharp sensation near his ear. As darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, he caught one last glimpse of Val, standing tall. The world around him went black.

The aftermath of Val's vengeance was a stark contrast to the quaint charm the house once held. As her husband lay sprawled on the floor, his shallow breathing the only indication he was alive, Val looked down at him, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and disgust. "Pathetic," she spat, the weight of the betrayal turning her once sweet voice cold.

Changing out of her old life, Val emerged, reborn. Gone were the dresses she once wore, replaced now with dark, rugged attire of an outlaw. The change wasn't just external; every step she took was laced with newfound confidence, a defiance that was missing from her life just a few hours ago. With two suitcases in hand, their weight signifying the wealth they contained, Val left the house, leaving behind the memories, both good and bad.

Behind her, an inferno raged, consuming the house where she had once felt love, pain, betrayal, and hope. The fire roared, turning the beautiful abode into a blazing tomb of memories. The once-white walls were now blackened by the smoke, and the beautiful garden flowers withered away, unable to stand against the fierce heat.

Reaching the streets, she approached a waiting carriage. The driver, a burly man with a gruff beard, eyed her suitcases suspiciously. Without a word, Val handed him an envelope thick with cash. A nod of understanding passed between them. No words were needed. The past was burning behind her, and ahead lay a future of possibilities.

The flames danced in the evening sky, casting an eerie orange glow on Val's face as she stepped into the carriage. Taking a moment, she turned her gaze back towards her former home, watching as the raging inferno devoured what was left of her past. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. The haunting silhouette of the house, consumed by flames, was the final farewell to a life she once knew.

With a crack of the whip and a gentle nudge, the carriage was set in motion. As the house faded into the horizon, Val felt a weight lifting from her shoulders. The darkness of the night seemed to welcome her, promising new adventures and new beginnings.

From above, an unexpected yet familiar sight emerged. The little bird, which once stayed confined in its cage, was now soaring freely in the open skies. Its wings fluttered gracefully, casting a silhouette against the moonlight, following the path of the carriage.

Inside the carriage, Val leaned her head against the window, watching the landscapes change. Her thoughts, though, were with the bird. A symbol of hope, of freedom, and of new beginnings. The journey had been hard, filled with betrayal and heartbreak, but it had given her wings of her own.

A soft smile graced her lips. A smile of contentment. A smile of anticipation.

And as the wheels of the carriage moved forward, the world seemed to open up for Val, full of endless possibilities.