(Y/n) looked around the dark halls of Allerdale. She had hidden away, someplace safe. Lucille was around here somewhere. But (Y/n) had something that Lucille didn’t. Lucille had her poisons and her tricks, but (Y/n) was a red blooded American and had the gun that Alan had brought with him, just in case. She was not letting Lucille kill her here. She wasn’t letting Lucille kill anyone, anymore.
“Where are you?” (Y/n) said, pushing open door after door, stepping around holes in the floor and wet patches where the rain had came through the roof. “Lucille!”
“Dear, dear (Y/n).” She could hear her voice. “You want to play games with me?”
“Where’s Thomas?” (Y/n) asked, turning around to find her.
“He’s safe for now.” She said. “He’s resting. His head has been filled with so many silly ideas.”
“Did you poison him?” (Y/n) called out, cocking the gun, ready to shoot.
“He just needed a little...help.” Lucille giggled. (Y/n) stalked around. She had blood on her dress from Alan, and the clay coming through the floor stained the bottom of her white dress. She needed to find Thomas and get him and Alan out of there. Alan needed medical help, and Thomas needed more than that. (Y/n) was sure that she would too after everything that had happened. “Can you find me? I was always great at hide and seek.”
(Y/n) didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed open the door to the bedroom that was her’s and Thomas’s, or supposed to be. Lucille was sitting in a chair, smiling at (Y/n). Thomas lay on the bed, blood on his own clothes. (Y/n) wasn’t sure if it was his or Alan’s, but his chest was barely moving.
“What did you do?” (Y/n) asked. Lucille laughed.
“I did nothing.” She said, smiling sweetly at (Y/n). It made (Y/n) feel sick. “Thomas did this to himself. If he wouldn’t have fallen in love, he wouldn’t have to worry.”
“So you’re going to kill him?” (Y/n) asked.
“If I have to.” She told her. “I’ll kill anyone who makes me unhappy. And (Y/n), you have made me extremely unhappy.” She stood, a man’s razor in her hand. “Your daddy made me unhappy. So he had to die. My mother, Thomas’s various women, any men in my life. All of them. You are no different than all of them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” (Y/n) said, raising the gun and pointing it directly at Lucille. “I’m not going to lay there and let you kill me.”
“You American’s and your guns.” Lucille said, shaking her head. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger. But it won’t make you feel any better.”
“Maybe, but it will give me closure.” She fired then, hitting Lucille right in the chest. The baroness fell backwards, back into the chair, gasping and crying at the wound. Blood poured down her chest, darkening her already dark dress. “You won’t ever kill anyone ever again.” She placed the gun against her heart and fired, ending her reign of terror. (Y/n) quickly ran over to Thomas, shaking him.
“Thomas, wake up.” She said, slapping his cheeks some. Thomas groaned and stirred. His glazed over eyes opened and he searched for someone, anyone. And soon, he found (Y/n).
“(Y/n)?” He asked weakly. She pulled him up, watching as he swayed some.
“We have to go.” She said, helping him to his feet. “Alan is waiting for us. We have to go.”
“Lucille?” Thomas asked. He looked over to where Lucille sat in the chair, eyes closed, covered in blood.
“It had to be done. I’m so sorry.” (Y/n) said. He closed his eyes. He had been with her all his life. But she had tried to kill him. She had drugged him. She had used him. “We have to go.” Thomas nodded and let (Y/n) assist him down the creaking stairs. She got Alan to his feet and helped the two men down the long drive. She could see lights in the distance.
“I had a backup plan.” Alan coughed. “If I didn’t make it back to town by a predetermined time, the police were coming.”
“God, you’re brilliant.” (Y/n) laughed. Thomas’s head was starting to clear, and he was able to help (Y/n) with Alan. But the three of them were quite a sight. All with blood on them, all tired and hungry, and more than a little mentally injured.
Thomas turned to look back at the house as they were loaded into wagons to make the trek to safety. (Y/n) squeezed his hand.
“I hope that place burns to the ground.” He said. “I want it to burn in hell.” (Y/n) rested her head on his shoulder and held Alan’s hand as they headed away from the haunted manor, where Lucille was doomed to wonder until the day it burnt to the ground.