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Hearing the last of Pyro's words, Shelby felt it in her bones. The fire of anger. The way it coloured red all she saw in his direction.
"Oh... It's very clear... The only liability here? The only weakness? Is you. And now you're all alone. Just like he was."
"Excuse m-"
Pyro turned after she spoke, only for his gaze to meet with the incoming fist of one of the previously least dangerous vampires in the coven. The impact was rough, connecting cleanly with his nose and forcing his head to turn from the momentum. Staggering back and nearly falling off the table, he forced his sight back on his assailant.
He knew what this was, he just didn't expect it from HER.
"Hey! Whoa!"
She was saying something, but her revenge-driven mumblings weren't entirely coherent.
"No! No, no! Shelby, no! I brought you into this life, don't do this!"
"Is this what it felt like for him?!"
The strikes came in thicker and faster as Shelby alternated fists. Now aware she wouldn't let up, Pyro barely avoided fumbling his way off the table and out the nearest exit with his own fledgling in hot pursuit.
"Where you going, Pyro?! Avid didn't get to run!"
"Think about this, Shelby! Scott's gonna-"
Jack Von Pyroscythe felt himself trip down the stairs and Shelby's fingers narrowly brushing against his clothes, a downward spiral that would lead only to his demise, he was becoming fully aware of this.
"Oh, I've been thinking about this all day... and Scott? Scott's going to be glad..."
Getting up at the bottom of the stairs, he turned back as he ran, only to catch sight of Shelby's exposed teeth through a foul grimace, followed suit by her entire body flying right at him. Akin to one HELL of a lunge that threw him down into the terrain beneath them.
"Shelby-"
"Oh, would you look at that?! We're underground! Just like he was!"
Pyro attempted to roll over, but Shelby had him pinned too well. She grabbed the back of his hair and pulled, forcing a small amount of lift before slamming his face into the floor of dirt and loose stone beneath them, forcing out a groan from the doomed man.
Soon enough, this motion repeated, Jack Von Pyroscythe summoning as much strength as he could to throw her off. As he rolled onto his back, he wasn't able to even fathom the idea of sitting up before she was on him again.
Right fist. Left fist. Right. Left.
Pyro reached into a pocket and gripped a wooden stake, pulling it out and attempting to find the angle.
"Oh? Thank you very much for the gift!"
Shelby grabbed his raised forearms, planting his left beneath her foot and grabbing the right arm with both hands. He strained. It was his last chance and he had to take it.
Something snapped. Pyro just about felt what must've been the searing heat of what remained of his nerves telling him something was WRONG.
And it didn't take an expert to figure out the arm was NOT supposed to bend like that. His wooden stake, his last hope for survival fell to the ground with a clatter as he looked up at a snarling Shelby, baring her fangs again as her lips slowly twisted into some sort of satisfied smirk.
"Feel better, Shelby?"
This did not seem to please his aggressor, as she muttered something under her unnecessary breath.
"I'm sorry?"
In hindsight, this was a bad thing to say given the situation.
"OH, YOU'RE SORRY, ARE YOU?!"
"I didn't mean-"
He wasn't given a chance to explain.
Instead, she grabbed him by the side of his head, foot slipping off his upper arm so she could pull him up and strike the ground with his head.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Shelby was surprisingly strong when she had the reason. When she released him, Pyro gingerly opened his eyes just in time to see the fists again.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Each punch lowered until she was using full force to pound away at his ribs with bare hands, each impact feeling like it could be the one break. The one that ends it all. He let himself cry out as she let out her fury upon him, as if it would satisfy her need for his suffering.
"Sorry doesn't bring him back, Pyro."
"I know. I... didn't mean to... to insinuate I was... I was apologetic."
She just scoffed, her sounds slowly building into a quiet chuckle to herself.
"Of course you're not. You know what YOU are?"
He didn't dignify that with an answer.
"You're alone. Just like Avid was. You're underground. Just like Avid was. Now..."
She picked up his stake from nearby in one fist, gently pressing the sharpened tip against the part of his ribs she'd been punching.
"Are you AFRAID like he was?"
She didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead, she curled her free hand into a fist, raising and slamming it into the back of the stake like a hammer upon a nail. The wood went straight into his chest, fracturing inside upon impact with his heart.
"Hello? Anybody down... Oh. Hey, Shelby."
Scott's fingers traced the wall the stairs ran along, as he witnessed the sight before him. It certainly was messy. Messier than Shelby likely realised.
...
Jack Von Pyroscythe was not mourned. He did not get a grave.