by Mason, V. F.
“You are so ungrateful,” he says once we start up the stairs, and I wonder where the fuck our butler Rick is. Shouldn’t he be here giving us speeches on waking him up in the middle of the night? The staff here have known us since we were in diapers, so no one really takes on a subordinate attitude.
We are one big, twisted family.
“Why am I ungrateful?”
“I played cupid tonight, and you got the girl. Instead of thanking me, you’re teasing me.”
Well, when he puts it that way…. “You do know my girl thinks she has a crush on you, right?” All this talk is familiar banter we’ve missed so much, and I think that’s why we still continue it. Not that it erases all the hurt between us that’s been piled on for so long, but maybe this bridge can be mended.
Love was and always will be there, but I want our connection back too.
I just have to believe that no matter what, everything will be all right.
“And you do know she only thinks that because I was nice to her, right? She was your friend first, not mine. So it’s been you and never me all along,” he informs me, and we finally reach the door. “Besides—”
He doesn’t finish his sentence though, because we both freeze when we see the door slightly open with darkness greeting us from the hallway.
Never in our entire lives has the door been open without someone greeting us on the stairs, and the hallway has never been dark. There was always a small lamp turned on in case one of us woke up or Mom strolled through the house, searching for whatever she needed during one of her episodes.
Eachann opens his mouth to say something, but I press my finger to my lips, giving him a sign to stay silent.
Because if something feels off… it means it’s off. I trust my gut. My hackles rise, alerting me to the danger around us.
Placing myself in front of him, I curse inwardly for not having a gun or knife with me, but it’s almost impossible to carry weapons in this town.
We step inside, our shoes thumping on the marble, and I turn on the light by the door, dreading the picture awaiting me.
Once the light is shining brightly, showcasing the hallway and everything else in its full glory, Eachann gasps in shock behind me while I stay numb, gazing at the massacre in front of me.
The floor and the walls are smeared with blood, showcasing different letters of the Latin alphabet, almost like leaving a clue. On the stairs, our maid Marina lies in a pool of her own blood with her head blown off, her brains splattered on the steps above her.
In the hallway, Rick lies with his throat cut open, the blood barely dry on him, his suit front coated in it and something else I can’t name. What I do know is that it took a long time for him to die, because that kind of torture would’ve lasted forever.
The smell of dead bodies coats the air. My nose twitches with the bitter scent that has the power to bring up even yesterday's dinner. Some of them must not have been dead for long. Did he kill one first and then hold the others in terror, enjoying their misery?
I hear Eachann gagging behind me, throwing up all over the blood-smeared floor.
He still doesn’t say anything, because he’s too shocked to utter a word. I walk farther into the kitchen, noticing the way that the living room carpet is soaked in blood from our gardener and another maid. They’re both lying next to each other with their hands cut and bullets in their chests.
When I reach the kitchen, I sway a little to the side when I see Melanie kneeling in front of the counter, both of her hands pinned to the counter with knives and smeared in blood. Her head hangs in a weird way, which lets me know at once it’s broken.
The walls of the kitchen have several different letters smeared on them too, continuing the sentence from the hallway.
Vincere semper.
I block away the terror building inside me along with the desire to roar and weep for all these people who are our family, people who have been closer to us than our own parents, and I focus only on one thing.
Locating my sister, because my father is away on a business trip.
“Laura,” I whisper, grabbing two kitchen knives from the magnet board and storming back to the hallway where Eachann still leans on the wall, his face green.
Tears form in his eyes, and then he whispers too, “Laura.”
We both dart toward her room, finding her nanny by her door with a bullet between her eyes, and I twist the knob, ordering Eachann, “Don’t come in.” I’m not sure what we will find there, and I should be the only one to see this.
After all, all of this happened because of me.
The first thing I notice about the room is that there are feathers everywhere, spread on the bed and floor, because the pillows and blankets have been ripped apart like someone repeatedly stabbed them.
Bloody footprints stain the marble and white carpet, but otherwise there is no sign of a massacre here. “Laura,” I shout, opening the bathroom but finding it empty too.
She is nowhere in sight.
“Where is she, Eudard?” My twin swallows, panic rising in his voice. “Did intruders kidnap her? We need to call 911 now!” he shouts, but it doesn’t matter anymore.
Liam left the place, because he accomplished what he wanted.
Killed my entire household and took my sister for a bargaining chip. He won’t kill her for now.
I take out the phone to call Lachlan, because he needs to come here right fucking now and help me with this. My hands tremble only to see it’s dead.
No battery!
Roaring, I throw it away, running my fingers through my hair, and push Eachann aside, running toward the landline phone in the living room but quiet whimpers pull my attention.
Pausing, I listen for the sound again. It comes from the kitchen, so I dash there, only to realize it comes from inside the pantry room.
Holding my knife in front of me, I kick the door open and almost fall to my knees when I see my ten-year-old sister covering herself with her arms while she trembles on the floor, blood dripping from her hand where she holds a knife so tightly that it’s cut her palm.
“Laura,” I say, crouching in front of her, but she still doesn’t look at me, just breathes heavily, hiding her face away from me. “It’s okay. We’re here now.” I hear Eachann stop behind me, a sound leaving his mouth, and that makes her finally raise her head.
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then with a cry slams into me, smearing me in her blood while I hug her close, her sobs breaking my heart. Eachann kneels next to us, taking her hand in his. “We need to patch it up. It’s a deep cut.” Then he pats her back too, while she hugs me closer, squeezing me so tight it’s almost hard to breathe, but I don’t care.
She is here, and that’s all that matters.
“How did you get here?” I ask her, knowing she is always asleep at this hour.
“Matilda told me to hide here, and when I heard footsteps, I grabbed the knife from the shelf.” Melanie always had knives in here, claiming she didn’t want to drag food around the kitchen, so she cuts bread in the pantry.
Cut—past tense from now on.
Then her words register in my brain, and I try to lean back a little, but she keeps her hold on me, not allowing me to even move an inch. “Matilda?” What was Arianna’s mom doing here?
“They came to drop folders for Daddy.” Right, he always wanted reports at a specific hour, but I thought she had the day off today since he was out of town. “They scared the bad man away,” she whispers, and I freeze, sharing a look with Eachann. They as in Ted, Arianna’s dad, and her? He gets up and shouts, “Matilda?” Where are they? They just left her in the pantry?
“My boys are here!” Her voice rocks off the walls, and then we hear her bare feet slapping against the marble as she runs to us from the terrace door that is connected with the kitchen through a narrow hall. “We were afraid you’d come right in the middle of the madness.” She hugs Eachann close, and I get up with Laura in my arms. “Oh no, sweetie. You�
�re wounded.”
“What happened?” I ask her, and she reaches under the kitchen sink, taking out a first aid kit.
She finds a spot on the counter free of blood and starts taking out bandages and ointment. If I hadn’t known her better, I’d think she’s acting normally.
But by how her hands tremble and it takes her a few tries to open up the bandage, I know she is barely holding it together for our sake.
That’s what Matilda is, after all. The mother we never truly had. She can’t lose her shit in our company, because she has to be brave for us.
For her, we will be her boys and her blonde girl forever.
“We stopped by on our way from an outing with friends.” She comes closer and puts a bad-smelling liquid on Laura’s palm as she whimpers. “Shh, sweetie. We need to do that before the doctor can look at it.” She soothes her with a pat and then covers her palm with a bandage, stopping the bleeding. “We heard screams the minute we entered the house, knew something was wrong. I saw Laura running down the stairs and some man cursing behind her.”
My heart stops at the idea that Laura had to face Liam and managed to save herself from him.
We all glance at Laura, hoping she will add something to that, but she stays silent, just once again tightens her hold on me. “Ted grabbed her and gave her to me, ordering us to hide while he fought with the man. They tumbled on the floor and despite the younger man holding a knife, Ted managed to disarm him,” she continues, and I don’t know how much I can take anymore.
Even Arianna’s dad got involved in this!
“He bit Ted though and then ran away. We didn’t know if there was anyone else, so he told us to stay put in the pantry while he went to check. I went after him after everything quieted down.” A sob slips past her lips. “It’s awful, boys.” I hear a siren in the distance and see the red and blue lights flashing through the window. “We called 911 right away. Thank God, they are here. I will call your father now.” She finishes bandaging Laura’s hand and then asks her gently, “Sweetie, do you want me to hold you?” Laura shakes her head but raises her head, stretching her hands toward Eachann who takes her quickly, rocking her in his arms, his focus on me.
“Who’d do something like this? We never even have petty crimes, let alone this.” He shudders, swallowing hard.
I need to call Lachlan, because Liam is very dangerous now.
Ted stopped a serial killer from his final kill, which means he angered him more and put himself in danger. I can’t let anyone else get harmed, but I can’t do it alone.
Callum.
I’ll call him too.
The ringing of the phone echoes in the house, and I go toward the living room, making sure not to step on any of the evidence, not that it will amount to much.
This kind of crazy has to be caught by another serial killer in order to destroy the fucker.
Snatching up the phone, I freeze when Liam’s voice speaks in my ear. “Did you like my surprise?”
I fist the phone harder in my grip, seething. “I will kill you, Liam.”
He clacks his tongue, laughing so coldly. “Oh, Eudard, you’ll have to catch me first, and for now I always win.”
“I will.” It’s all I can say without losing my shit or breaking the phone.
He sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t appreciate it, but I felt like a bonus surprise set a good tone.” His voice is laced with such satisfaction that my instincts alert my mind, telling me he can’t be this happy with today’s outcome.
To Liam, killing staff is nothing, because Uncle never considered them people worth our time. Laura was his victim all along, and he lost her. Shouldn’t he be angry? Why is he calling me to gloat?
Bonus surprise.
Dread fills me, and I ask him with hatred coating my voice, “What’s the actual surprise?”
He laughs again, whispering even though I can hear pleasure in his words that threatens to strip me from my sanity, “Arianna’s rape.”
No.
No, no, no.
“She is at the church now. You should have picked up that phone of yours. Maybe then none of this would have happened.” He continues to talk and then adds, “Or wait. You shouldn’t have betrayed me. Now reap the harvest.” With that, the line goes dead while my head spins, with my insides divided between weeping and roaring.
Instead, I push everything away and run outside the house with Eachann hot on my heels. “Where are you going?” I don’t answer; I’m too afraid if I say something I will break down, and I can’t have that.
Arianna is hurt.
I jump on the first thing that comes into my view, which is Eachann’s car and only too late realize I don’t have the keys. He joins me quickly though, gives me the keys, and orders, “Drive.” I’m not sure how he knows I need him right now, but I do.
And we speed away from the mansion to discover more terror.
They say there is a limit to how much pain a human can stand.
At the point it becomes too much, you want to just get away from it all and shut off all your emotions. They suffocate you to death, and you drown in them with no way of escape.
I thought that night tested all my capacities in holding strong.
What I didn’t know?
That despite how horrific all this was… it was just the tip of the iceberg.
I wrote a poem about it once, lying on the floor and drinking so much whiskey I could barely hold it inside me.
And somehow the words helped me just for a fraction of a second, because they took my pain away.
Instead they carried it around.
But even the hobby that gave me solace during my years of Uncle’s captivity couldn’t give me solace from what happened next.
My heart is bleeding.
From this pain.
My soul is pleading.
To wipe them away from my brain.
There is no rescue in sight from the fury brewing in my veins.
For the monster took rein of me with no way of escape.
Cassandra
“The place is packed,” Laura mutters, pulling into the church parking lot and finding the spot reserved for the Campbells. I’m not sure anyone besides the founding five comes here by car anyway; the church is in the middle of the town. The legends say it was built with one purpose in mind—that everyone would have easy access to it no matter the surname.
Which sounds great and all, only it lost all its meaning once the founding five started to be treated like royalty.
But maybe people should take responsibility for that too. People will abuse their power if society grants them that right.
I yawn and put my sunglasses on, grabbing the handle and getting out of the car. I take out a basket full of muffins from the back seat, and Laura does the same, grumbling, “It should be a crime to wake up this early.”
I chuckle at this, because compared to some other masses, it’s relatively late at eleven in the morning. However, we stayed up late last night, until three in the morning, because we baked two batches of muffins and spoke about a lot of things.
My heart still hurts from what they had all gone through when that awful night happened, what it must have felt like for the twins to come home to that.
Not to mention Laura, who still must have her own demons, because she didn’t give me details of how she managed to escape from him. Or her encounter with the intruder.
My parents being involved surprised me, they never spoke about it. In fact, I never heard about the Campbells’ massacre back in the hospital or at home. Why wouldn’t they tell me?
Maybe they just never got the chance to explain anything once I revealed what happened to me.
I shake my head from these useless thoughts; I won’t get my answers now anyway.
Motioning with my head for Laura to get going, she sighs dramatically and follows me as we both walk toward the church, our sandals slapping against the concrete as a light wind swirls my summer dress around my legs.
Peo
ple are gathering inside, the hum of their voices bouncing off the walls, and I see Meghan and Sam waving at me from their seats.
I wave back as they mouth something to me, but I don’t get it. Laura sees my confusion and says, “I think they want to talk to you after mass.” Her lips twitch like she finds it funny, but why, I have no idea. She grabs my elbow and drags me toward their pew while people once again give me curious glances and share murmurs.
Shouldn’t I be old news at this point?
Or is it because Valerie has a big mouth and by now the whole town probably knows I live in sin with Eudard Campbell?
I hope no one tries to spray holy water on me to exorcise the devil out of me.
“Even with no makeup and no heels, you still draw the attention of the guys here,” Laura whispers, and I burst out laughing. “Oh, come on. Ralph can’t stop staring at you.”
I still inside, my gaze darting toward the Browns’ pew, and catch Ralph drilling his stare into me while he sits with his daughter, holding her hand.
As always, he is wearing a suit, and judging by the looks of it, he is in a good mood, because he waves at me with a bright smile. The minute we come closer—the Campbells’ bench is right before theirs—he gets up to greet us. “Hello, ladies.” He kisses Laura’s hand and then mine, even though it takes everything in me not to snatch it away. “It’s a pleasure to see you.” His eyes widen when he zeroes his focus on my neck. “What happened to you?”
His question draws the attention of a nearby lady, and with a pasted-on smile, I run my fingers over the light bruises and explain calmly. “I got tangled up when I was playing with aerial silks for my dance routine. You can search it on the internet. It’s the one where you use lengths of silk to hang from the ceiling. I made a wrong move, and it wrapped around my neck.”
Laura stays silent. She never asked me about them, but I have a feeling she might suspect who gave them to me.
After last night, I've realized a lot of things about Laura. One of them is that she is not what she seems, but she hides her true self so deep within that I'm not sure anyone knows the real Laura Campbell. She shields herself from everyone with the proper version they see.
