METRO 1497 - The Fall PT2

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Theron’s jaw tightens.

Frustration.

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Fear of a father’s pride cracking.

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He enters the lodge.

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The main hall is warm with lantern light, banners hanging from carved beams, the scent of cedar lingering in the air — but the atmosphere feels cold, hollow, like life has been drained from the walls.

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Theron climbs the stairs, passing his office door without a glance.

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He needs comfort.

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He needs someone who still believes in him.

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He enters his chamber.

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The fireplace crackles, but the room is icy still.

Susan sits before her vanity, applying makeup with quick, practiced strokes, her expression unreadable.

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Theron approaches her softly — a tone he rarely uses.

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Theron:

“Veronica won’t speak to me… I think it’s because of Metro.”

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Susan scoffs, not even turning.

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Susan:

“No. It’s not him. It’s you.”

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She says it like she was commenting on the weather.

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Susan:

“You don’t spend time with her. Or with me. You’re too busy riding your high horse with your maidens and secretaries.”

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Theron’s face shadows.

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Theron:

“You dare accuse me? After all I’ve built? After everything I’ve done for you — for us? You think you could do this better?”

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He steps closer, voice rising.

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Theron:

“I am the pillar of this family. Without me, you are nothing!”

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Susan turns sharply — a look he has never seen from her.

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She stands, eyes blazing.

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Susan:

“You’re a rotting pillar! Old wood placed wrong, cracking under its own weight!”

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Her voice shakes the room.

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Susan:

“Our God has turned His face from you! Our family’s power is disintegrating because of your failings! We’re through!”

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She steps closer, a pace from his face.

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The final blow:

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Susan:(whispers)

“You’re cursed.”

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A penetrated dagger.

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Susan: (voice low, extremely sharp)

“If you had any honor left… you’d kill yourself.”

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She storms out, unable to contain her fury.

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Theron stands frozen.

Astonished.

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Afraid.

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But beneath the fear… something darker begins to harden.

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Determination.

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Desperation.

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Theron stumbles out of his chamber, trying to gather the pieces of himself. His breath shakes. His hands tremble. His wife’s curse still rings in his skull like a bell struck hard.

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He turns left.

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Traeven’s office.

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