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I'm unable to speak as his big hand casts over my neck, he chokes me and I yelp. My eyes open wide, I can't even hold myself to up to defend myself. He takes the life out of me.

He looks cold, lifeless, but filled with so much hatred for me. Squeezing my eyes shut, he pushes me back, I use my hands to latch onto his wrist, scratching him. Hughes pushes us and further into my house, he shuts the door with his foot. He never leaves me through all of that. He's determined to bring harm to me, determined to be the one to kill me.

"What did I tell you, girl?!" He snarls, snapping at me like a hungry animal.

I pinch my eyes shut, feeling a pain in the back of my head when he slams my body up against the wall. Hughes isn't done, he throws my limp body across the room, I fall over the coffee table, shattering the glass.

Screaming, my throat roars in pain. I cry out, beginning to crawl. I can feel the pieces of glass in my arm, lodged in, I wince. Tears run down my face, I use my nails to claw into the carpet, pulling myself to move. This all happens so quickly, too quickly. I can't imagine how slow I crawl, and how lifeless I must be to the staggering man above me. But still, I move.

I don't think about death in this moment, but rather, the idea of Francis being alone. My heart swells up at the thought of him opening the door to see me laying dead in this flat. Perhaps he'll have a heart attack when he sees his granddaughter dead. Fuck.

"I saw you with that man, kissing him." He sounds almost disgusted in me.

I moan, feeling the glass burry further into my skin as I lean into my arms and heave my body to the door. I still remember what he did to me the last time I encounter Hughes. The way he crushed my fingers under his boot.

"I made you a promise." He begins in a very soft and controlled voice, I can hear his feet from behind me, and even if I think I'm crawling quickly, I'm in no way faster than him.

A handful of my hair is grabbed, lifting my head off of the ground. I try to scream, my vision getting blurry but I recognize him when I see him. Hughes stares down at me, he has his foot on my fingers, slowly pushing down with his shoes. "Do you remember, girl, how I said I was going to break your fuckin' fingers?"

I open my mouth, expecting and anticipating a scream to come out, but nothing. The feeling of my fingers being crushed is literally unbearable, my eyes roll back and in a second I am unconscious. I come back far too quickly, as he pours water on my face.

I'm sat on a chair, with my wrists tied behind my back, my legs tightly fastened to the legs of the crooked chair we sit in for dinner.

Hughes looks at me, running his fingers over my cheek. "You're such a marvellous thing to look at." He chimes in, smirking and licking his lips. He puckers his lips, "I just want to eat you up."

My eyes roll back, and I try to scream before his hand falls over my mouth, he leans into my body, pushing himself between my legs. Hughes, with all of his madness, makes my world still as he stares into my soul.

His mouth is tightly shut, his eyes so scary and lifeless, I can't stop looking at him. "I wish I was sane enough to just kill youse, Alene, but I want to make you suffer." He tells me factually.

His hand pulls back from my mouth, and I can taste his sweaty palm on my lips.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask, beggingly. My voice is it's weakest. I am defeated.

He walks into my kitchen and grabs a knife before coming back. "Tommy and his boys are nothing. You do know that right, girl?"

"Is that what this is about?" I ask, following his movements.

Hughes runs his finger over the blade of the knife. Walking forwards me, he tilts his head. "I want you to beg me for forgiveness."

"Fuck off." I speak without thinking. Wiggling my wrists and legs. Commanding them to move.

"What did you say?" He leans in, we're nearly nose to nose. "Trust me, I am just as sinister as your Peaky Boy, don't underestimate me."

"I said," I spit in his face, filled with rage. I take him by surprise and use that to my advantage. "Fuck off!" I scream like I'm crying for help, like my life depends on it.

And when Hughes's backhand comes down on my cheek, and I am thrown to the floor, still attached to the chair, I see blotches on white and black begin to fill my vision. It's my head that hit the ground far too hard. Unspeakable pain erupts throughout me, I can feel something enter me, something cold that makes me even colder. My blood seeps from the slits he had put in me. Something repeatedly entering and exiting my body, it's fast. Something that makes me scared to look at Hughes as he loses control. My eyes, they beg to be shut, but the sound of Hughes and the motion of his hand lifting and crashing and lifting and crashing horrifies me.

I am stabbed repeatedly, and I am dying. I am dying, and I cry because I know I am too young. I am dying, and I cry because I know I will miss this earth. I can feel salt pool in my throat, coming out of my mouth in gargles of spit.

I can feel the world around me close in. A feeling I've only witnessed with my failing patients. I'm failing now, falling into the afterlife. I worry about my grandfather. I worry about Tommy. I worry about everyone.

The door breaks open, and Hughes releases the bloodied knife in his hand. Caught. He stands and spins around, but once he does, gunfire erupts and Hughes falls to the floor right beside me.

It's all too fast, the loud thump of his body falls right beside me. His mouth is open, his eyes are open. He stares at me, his eyelids wanting to clamp shut, there is a small bullet hole in his forehead, one that oozes of blood and smoke from the bullet.

Like a gust of cold air, I can breathe for a second because Hughes is dead. He's dead.

"Alene!" It's Tommy who sees me and I hear him yell out, his voice catches and he lets out a cry before falling to his knees. "Alene!" He screams, shouts, beginning to panic because of all the blood, and all of the cuts in her body.

Thomas Shelby holds the lifeless body of Alene for minutes, begging her what to do. He apologizes, on and on again, swaying back and forth with her lifeless and cold body in his lap. He takes her hand, kisses her knuckles and says he's sorry.

For years Tommy Shelby does not forgive himself for what happened to Alene. He cannot sleep without remembering her, he even fails to breathe sometimes because of how guilty he feels.

She was his good side, whether he liked to admit it or not. His good side, and what happens that is gone? What happens when the only person who managed to crack a smile out of Tommy Shelby dies? Well, darkness consumes you, and just like that,

Tommy Shelby became...

le fin