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Darren was a very rich man, everyone knows that much. Darren also happened to be in love with Charlie, nobody knows that. He loved Charlie more than he loved his actual wife, which wasn’t a very high bar, that was a marriage of status and convenience anyways. He did love Charlie more than he loved himself, that was more impressive. He didn’t love Charlie more than money, that was apparent now.
He stood over Charlie now, cursed rock still in his hands. Or maybe the rock was still in his cursed hands. It didn’t change the result, didn’t change the fact that Charlie was dead at his feet.
They were backstage. They were about to patent the idea of rock, paper, scissors. Charlie wanted to credit the common people. Charlie had won the game. They were going to give them credit. But he couldn’t handle losing a little bit of money, could he? So he killed Charlie, just to kill that little detail. God, he killed Charlie!
He dropped the rock at some point. He had walked on stage at some point. He was shaking. He said something about Charlie’s passing. Of course Charlie had passed! He killed Charlie!
There was a light, a blinding light that had to be holy. It had to be Charlie. Perfect holy Charlie. Perfect holy Charlie who he had killed. Perfect holy Charlie who he had loved. Perfect holy Charlie that he still loved. Perfect holy Charlie who he still killed.
Maybe he did love Charlie more than anything. Scratch that. He loved Charlie more than anything, how could he not? Charlie was an angel on earth. An angel he sent back to heaven.
Greed had consumed him at some point. It had stained him. It had made him unholy. It had damned him.
It was a fitting punishment, being separated from Charlie for all eternity. Being separated from his one good thing. He deserved it. He deserved to be separated from Charlie after what he had done.