by Mason, V. F.
Yet offering him a swordfight was the only way for me to save them from him.
Hopping down from the cliff, I take my sword from its leather case, only half the blade glistening in the moonlight, showcasing the dry blood on it.
Liam doesn’t miss that and laughs. “Oh, you wanted to be poetic. Eachann is with us in spirit.” I give him no reaction to this jab, and he frowns, displeased that he can’t bring me psychological torture, so he goes for more. “He died bravely if you want to know. Never begged me.” He smirks. “He just asked if by killing him I would spare you. And when I said yes, he fucking smiled. Can you believe that?” He swings his sword from side to side over his arm, practicing his moves, it seems. “He was always a weirdo.” He drills his stare into me, excitement building in his one hollow eye. But instead of raging or screaming or going blind for the kill, all the things he expects, I shrug, walking closer and facing him.
“It doesn’t surprise me. My brother loved me. After all, we shared a bond that nothing, even death, can break.”
He grimaces, the excitement quashed and turning into anger, and the movement of the sword stops with him pointing it at me. “But I took him from you.”
“You killed him,” I say, throwing my sword up and then catching it by the handle. “But you could never kill him here.” I tap my finger over my heart. That is enough for him to cry out, rushing full force at me.
And on this night, our swords clash against each other with the moonlight streaming above us while the pouring rain continues, soaking us to the bone.
We step back, circling each other while watching carefully for any sign of weakness, which is almost impossible in the dark.
Thunder echoes as lightning flares in the sky. He seethes, “Twins and their connection. Where was your twin when you were bleeding from Edward’s wounds?” He aims forward for my shoulder, but I duck back, swaying in his direction, but his sword catches mine, and we jump away from each other again. “I was there all the fucking time.”
“Yes,” I tell him, pushing forward to stab him in his stomach, but he blocks it, turning around and trying to stab me. I manage to pull away, the tip of my sword deflecting the blow, and we separate again. “We both grew up in hell, having only each other to share that burden. Because of your father.” Another clang, clang of steel, and we are circling each other again. “While my twin faced it all alone.” Clang, clang, clang. “And after everything we’d been through, you decided to follow his legacy!” I shout the last part and finally graze his shoulder, drawing blood.
He steps back several feet, breathing heavily, and spits his own words. “Because he made us into his legacy. I had no other choice but to be like him.” Lightning crosses the sky again, and it distracts me from seeing Liam run at me, stabbing me in the leg. The pain shoots through me, but I still the groan between my lips, blocking all other advances, and step back, keeping distance between us while leaning on my uninjured leg.
Which means from now on I have to be careful on my right side.
We circle each other again, the ground becoming more slippery from all the water rapidly dropping on us. I find my voice to speak the truth he probably doesn’t want to face.
What else explains all his bad deeds through the years? “He didn’t make you into a monster. You became one yourself.” Liam freezes, his gaze darting over me while I sway to the left, knowing this is his weak side. “You know how many children face what we did? Thousands. Daily. Do you think they become like us?”
“I’m the exception. I was trained by my father—”
I cut him off before he can finish this stupid talk. “No. We are not an exception due to what was done to us. We are the exception, because we chose the dark side. People cure themselves, build normal lives. They don’t seek the desire for destruction.”
Because at the end of the day, does it matter what the justifications for a monster’s deeds are?
Even if you have morals and punish those who, in your opinion, deserve it, you still chose the path of a serial killer, forever smearing yourself in their blood and agony.
We are the product of someone’s cruelty, yes.
But we live our lives by our choices.
And most people choose light while I picked darkness.
“How could you have done to other kids what was done to us? To anyone?” I ask him and then dig deeper when he stills, probably mentally going back to the time in his life he wants to block.
I know of cases where the victim is so traumatized they create another reality for themselves where the previous life doesn’t exist.
Time to remind him though.
“They raped us all the fucking time. Taped our mouths. Took what was not willingly given.” He cries out, covering his ears. “It was done to your mother.” This is a guess, because Uncle could have done it too, and when tears form in his eyes, I know I’m right. “You became like the person who raped and killed your mother.” A beat and then I ask, “Are you proud of yourself?”
He slaps himself and then smirks even though his eyes still look crazy. “This won’t help you. I will kill you tonight.”
“Will you?”
He nods, swinging his sword, and calmness enters his gaze, steadying him in the present as he glues his stare on me.
I do the same, preparing my sword to face him, because the time for talk is over now.
Never in my life did I think the boy who cried with me in the cell all those years ago would be the one I’d have to kill.
But his need for darkness suppressed any other emotion, swallowing him whole, and there is no cure for it. Only death will free the world from the likes of him.
“If you agreed to my offer, none of this would have happened,” he says.
“I could have never agreed to your offer, because I’m not like you.”
The swords clash as we swing them, aiming for blood but neither of us connecting.
Any minute, and we will both fall from exhaustion, which will give him the opportunity to slip away.
Which is not an option, because my baby needs to live in a world free of this monster who will never rest.
So I intentionally make the wrong move, stumbling back, and he uses this leverage to stab his sword into my abdomen. I gasp, bending a little as indescribable pain travels through my system, and based on my training I know he clipped a large vein inside.
Not that it matters, not anymore.
He pulls his sword back, which only leads to bleeding from my wound. He laughs so loudly the owls don’t make a sound. “Vincere Semper!”
I drop to my knees, breathing heavily, and he kneels in front of me, laughing. “You don’t have much time to live do you, Eudard?” While he revels in his victory, I fist my hands, ready to deliver him a punch.
Before I do that, I say, “Sometimes a win doesn’t mean shit, and surrender is the only way to get the prize.” With that, I hit him hard in the face, and he cries out, falling back while I get up as quickly as I’m able, grab my sword, and stab him in the stomach right where he stabbed Eachann. His cry filling the night is music to my ears.
Pulling it firmly, I hold it up over his neck while fighting two emotions.
I always hoped to bring him the worst agonies and keep him alive for hours, but no amount of torture would have soothed the pain he brought me.
But all I want now is to forever dispose of this piece of shit, a disgrace even to other monsters, for he even went against his own kind.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I beat him to it. “It was never me and you against the world, Liam. It was me, Eachann, and Arianna against the world. And try as you might, you could never break this bond.” With that, even though he’s choking on his blood, I drive my sword through his neck, severing his spine. He gasps, and his gaze stills, hell claiming his soul for good with no way of escape.
Breathing heavily, I stumble back as the agony shaking my body registers with the blood still coming from me. I drop to the ground with the rain pe
lting me so hard I feel like it could wash me away from here.
And then another sound fills the night, the cry of a baby that warms my heart like nothing ever before. My baby is alive and well.
My baby.
In all my darkness, I’ve never imagined having something so precious, yet she has given me that gift.
Alive. Both of them are alive.
This time around, I saved them both. I came in time and killed the one who sought their flesh and souls.
My eyes close, and I smile brightly, laughing a little, although it sounds more like a snort. I let the pain disappear when the warmth and calmness of darkness comes for me.
My beautiful phoenix can withstand anything, even this, because my life is a small price to pay for the endless peace they will have.
Welcome me in heaven, my twin. The devil has arrived.
Cassandra
I hear the baby crying and raise my head a little to see Santiago wrapping it in a shirt, and giving me a huge grin. “It’s a boy, Cassandra.” The baby continues to cry loudly, as if announcing to the world his displeasure about such a delivery. “A healthy boy at that.”
I extend my hands toward him, and Santiago places my son on my heart, where I watch as his tiny face scrunches before whimpering some more even though he is calmer now.
Rubbing my hand one time over his head, I give his forehead a light kiss and smile at him through my tears. “Hey, my little one. Mommy is so happy to see you here.” My hold on him weakens, and Santiago must notice it, because he scoops him back into his arms, rocking him gently. But my son doesn’t like that.
The piercing cry that drums in my ears comes back, but with that, so does the pain.
Everything hurts to such an extent I don’t know where to focus or how to breathe through it. My only desire is to run away, to finally let my body have what it so desperately wants.
Sleep.
My son is alive. I saved him from his father’s fate—he won’t be anyone’s toy; he will be well loved.
And while I want to rock him in my arms and calm him, the darkness in my head crooks its finger at me, calling my name and offering solace for my exhaustion.
Shaking my head, I resist it, not wanting to succumb to it, but the pain is so strong while the breath barely slips past my mouth. I have no strength left to fight with it or anyone else.
I’ve used everything I had, and I simply have nothing left to give.
My eyes roll back and my head lolls to the side, darkness opening her arms wide for me and greeting me with a smile despite my hatred for it.
My heart tears in two when I’m stopped by the cry of my baby again, as if he is calling my name, but I can’t listen to it.
I can’t do anything but close my eyes, seeking peace for the first time in my life, because I’ve reached my limit.
I take a deep breath…
And everything goes black.
Epilogue
“My whole life, I searched for a cure.
To be worthy of someone so pure.
I didn’t know one simple truth.
My phoenix loved me since our youth.”
Eudard
Eudard
Stopping in front of the church’s door, I inhale the fresh smell of lavender and roses floating in the air while the sun shines brightly on the building, the colorful glass sending thousands of shadows on the sidewalk while showcasing the beauty of its art.
The birds chirp in the trees, like singing a song only they understand, while people continue to go inside at the last minute, flying past me with guilty expressions on their faces.
Taking a deep breath, I step inside, gazing ahead of me to where the priest is standing with the Bible, preparing to deliver his words while everyone sitting in the pews turn their gazes on me.
Paying no attention to their sniffs or how they wipe away their tears, I stroll through the narrow aisle with a blank expression and think how fucking much I hate all this.
If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have made a public affair out of this, wouldn’t have allowed everyone to see me at my most vulnerable or bothered with all the preparations.
But Arianna deserves it all, to have a beautiful ceremony like this where people can honor her.
My heart squeezes in my chest as it always does at the thought of her, but I continue to walk confidently to the altar, nodding toward Marta who blows her nose in her tissues. I stop by her to give her my handkerchief instead.
She gasps, snatching it away from me and then urging me to go. “Everyone is waiting for you,” she says quietly as she pats my cheek. “It’s time.” For a second the air sticks in my lungs as the meaning of her words fully registers in my head, and I catch her palm, squeezing it in mine, letting her know I appreciate her support.
In a life where you’ve always known sadness and misery, any display of kindness is cherished and remembered.
Reaching the altar, I want to tell the priest to start the ceremony when a giggle snags my attention, and I look to the side at Laura whispering something into my wife’s ear. Arianna’s laughter bounces off the walls of this place, inspiring smiles on people’s faces.
After all, their favorite ice princess is back.
My eyes scan her from head to toe, drinking in the exquisite beauty she presents with her red locks cascading down her spine in heavy waves and her violet eyes she no longer hides glistening with happiness. Her lavender dress barely reaches her knees, tightly wrapping her body to where the chiffon flares into the skirt. It emphasizes all her new sexy curves I like to bite where no one can see, leaving marks of ownership all over her skin.
So beautiful. So happy. So carefree.
So very mine.
She pauses in the middle of her sentence to Laura, turning her head toward me. She must have felt my gaze on her because her mouth spreads in an even bigger grin, and I hear her say to Laura, “You brother is here.” Then she walks to me with her eyes holding mine, her heels clicking soundly on the marble.
“Mr. Campbell, you’re here,” she says for everyone to hear, and a few chuckles erupt that even my frown can’t stop. “I thought you’d run away.”
Straightening up, I hook my fingers in my pocket and reply calmly, although warning laces my tone not to push it. “I merely suggested canceling the whole thing and do it quietly with just the three of us.” And my feelings on the topic still stand. Why do we need an entire town to be witness to it? Not only that, but we also have a huge-ass celebration waiting for us back home, and I know Arianna invited the whole town.
She gasps in outrage, although amusement dances in her eyes. “Did you hear it, Von? Your daddy wanted to skip celebrating your christening!”
“Even worse. He didn’t want to invite me,” Laura says, sending me a glare but sharing a smile with Arianna. “Guess the saying that blood is thicker than water is not true.”
“No need to be so dramatic, Laura. Just last week, you bitched about having to come here and interrupt your semester.”
Her cheeks heat up, and I wonder if my suspicions that she has a man are true.
Whoever he is, I hope he is not fucked in the head, because I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm my sister.
“I didn’t know it was for my nephew.” She crooks her finger and makes goo-goo sounds at him. “You told me to get my ass here because we had a formal occasion to attend and you didn’t want to hear any excuses. How was I supposed to know it was a code name for a christening?”
At this point, no one in the church, including the priest, hides their laughter that shakes the walls.
My gaze travels to the bundle wrapped in white lace in Arianna’s arms. Our son, quiet as always… just silently watching, stares at the ceiling showcasing religious art.
Arianna claims he got this trait for me, and maybe she is right.
As always, when I think about or see my son, warmth spreads through me along with such a strong reaction I’m surprised it doesn’t knock me on my ass. There is love of cou
rse, but also such a surge of protectiveness that I know I would sacrifice everything before I let anyone touch him.
I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to know my son, and what a loss it would have been… to never know the happiness he can give me.
I’ll be forever grateful to all the serial killers who arrived and took us to the hospital in record time, while I bled all over Santiago’s car.
The fucker sent me a bill for it last week.
Once in the hospital, I was quickly rushed into surgery where they worked on me for hours while Arianna was in different operating room for the complications she had after the delivery.
Our family though, the serial killers who most people are afraid of, stayed by our sides and kept an eye on Von as we fought for our lives.
Arianna and I picked this name, because it means hope, and our baby represents that to us, granting us a chance to start anew, where the past exists but no longer has the power to rule us.
We didn’t see the point in hiding her identity anymore, and she told me she was tired of being Cassandra Scott, because it reeked of deceit, even though she found a family with that name. She didn’t want to be Arianna Griffin either, because it reminded her of all the things she experienced and lost.
So I asked her if she wanted to be Arianna Campbell instead, and on the same day, we were married in the church with only Laura by our side as we promised each other our eternal devotion.
The town had mixed reactions to all the truth revelations, but mostly everyone has welcomed her with open arms and act like she never left.
Except Marta.
She announced to us that we had lived in sin long enough and then married alone, so we should at least have a big party for the christening. And since Arianna wanted it too, I fucking organized it.
Whatever she wants, she gets.
“Let’s start,” the priest interrupts us, and I nod, wrapping my arm around Arianna, who rises on her tiptoes and gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek, her perfume enveloping me and reminding me that my miracle is here.
