Shackled Serenity

by Leon Logos

  After a half-an-hour of further dodging bullets, taking cover, and overall veritable macabre and warfare, the main house was virtually sieged successfully. The halls were now crawling with Viktor’s men, checking every single room and breaking down every door. A small amount of Aurelian soldiers and staff were kept alive for interrogation. Most of them were beaten to death upon failing to answer questions. Serenity and Agno met up with Viktor and the other brothers. They were crowded around the entrance hall with a hundred other soldiers. Viktor noticed her coming and instantly barked at her. His jaw was clenched and his muscles were tense.

  “Where are the Councilmen?” he demanded. “Where are they hiding?”

  “No idea,” she said truthfully.

  He seized her by her shoulders and began shaking her violently.

  “LIAR!” he spat. “TELL ME NOW!”

  “I don’t know!” she exclaimed, shoving him off of her.

  Garen held Viktor back with one hand, pulling him away from her.

  “Where are they?” Garen asked her.

  “Are you guys deaf?!” she said indignantly. “I have no clue! If you didn’t find him, then they’re not here!”

  “They’re here!” Viktor refuted. “There’s no way they had time to escape! And besides, I already had placed scouts watching the periphery of the entire property. They’ve got the perimeter guarded.”

  “They’re probably still inside the house,” Agno surmised. “In some secret room. Like a bunker.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” nodded Viktor. “We won’t leave until they’re all dead! I want their heads on pikes!”

  “You’ve killed enough already,” she muttered disdainfully.

  She felt as if the entire family was slaughtered. Out of the dozens of bodies she had seen thus far, only a few of them were familiar. It was gut wrenching having to look at their lifeless, scared faces. She couldn’t help but feel unbearably culpable. Their deaths were on her. But ultimately, her concerns were focused on her blood. Alistair, Sixto (he wasn’t biologically related but they had a connection), Destiny, Lily, and Lyla. Even Bastion and Dorian. She truly hoped they were safe, holed up in some bunker or other location of secrecy. Unfortunately, she couldn’t press for Viktor and the brothers’ withdrawal. Serenity had no dictation, no authority over anybody here. It was clear how committed Viktor was in finding the Councilmen. His inflexible resentment for the Aurelians was equal to Gunther’s—maybe even stronger.

  “How many of your guys have died?” Garen asked Viktor.

  “Don’t know, not many,” said Viktor indifferently, demonstrating that he wasn’t very concerned about casualties.

  “We’ve overpowered the Aurelian soldiers from start to finish. It was easier than expected, honestly.”

  “Element of surprise is deadly,” Cackle laughed.

  “It sure is,” said Viktor. “I’ve already ordered all my men to search until they die of fatigue. Failure is no option. Once we’ve killed off the remaining Aurelians, which is the Council, we can proceed to the fun part.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked skeptically.

  “Plundering!” Viktor howled. “We’re going to loot everything!”

  “Do we get a share of the spoils?” Cackle asked earnestly.

  “A small share,” Viktor growled grudgingly.

  Serenity gave him a black look, holding in her anger. This man wasn’t driven simply by abject hatred. There was avaricious intent involved. She couldn’t believe how somebody could contrive and carry out a massacre, just to satisfy their covetous, acquisitive desires. Viktor murdered men, women, and children for their wealth? He sought to gain their riches from this assault? She clenched her fists.

  It was like a massive game of hide-and-seek. With the seekers outnumbering the hiders substantially. Around five hundred of Viktor’s men were snooping around, searching for the leftover Aurelians. The house was teeming with them. No hall or corridor in the house was empty. Every room was occupied and ransacked. The high, plentiful shelves of the library were toppled over. No longer were they laden with books.

  Serenity was forced to follow Viktor around, answering all the questions he had about the residence and the family in general. A considerable number of them she couldn’t answer. She scoffed at, “What are the Aurelians’ long-term goals?” That was something they’d never tell her. Garen accompanied them. Agno and Cackle had gone their separate ways, facilitating in the search effort. Knowing Cackle, she assumed he was probably fooling around somewhere in the house rather than contributing.

  Viktor was steadily growing impatient, arbitrarily yelling at his men for their seemingly incompetent performance. She observed Viktor out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he feared something. It was strange how he was rushing to kill the Councilmen. He had already won the battle, and the Aurelian headquarters was taken. She dismissed it, presuming that executing the Council would officially conclude the battle for Viktor. He was in a hurry to commence the pillaging process, then leave the residence right after.

  Serenity kept her eyes peeled, hoping to find any clues that would help her locate the survivors. The Aurelians hadn’t informed her of any emergency room before. She wondered if there was even such a room. She knew how complacent the Aurelians were, confident that their fortress of an estate was impenetrable. They could never have foreseen being attacked. She was resolute in her decision to keep her mouth shut if she did get an intimation of where they may be. Serenity wasn’t planning to take responsibility for their deaths. She’d never forgive herself for the rest of her life.

  A woman whimpering weakly caught her attention. She was curled up behind a lopsided table in the parlor room. Serenity only managed to notice her because she was nearby. She peered down over the table. She was a maid, judging from her uniform. Serenity gazed down at her in horror, as the maid’s hands were glued to her side as if she was keeping her guts from spilling out. Serenity hopped over the table, crouching down beside her.

  The maid looked at her, realizing she wasn’t an enemy. Serenity didn’t know most of the Aurelians, but they all knew her or at least knew who she was. The woman struggled to let out words, face contorted in terror. Serenity stared at her helplessly, not knowing what to do. It was evident this woman was going to die. Either in a few moments due to bleeding out, or by one of Viktor’s men that would eventually find her. It was neither.

  “Out of the way,” Garen’s voice said.

  She spun around. Garen had his handgun pointed down at the woman, his countenance stony-faced. There was zero sympathy in his eyes.

  “Please don’t,” Serenity sniffled. “Let her die in peace.”

  “Letting her live is prolonging her suffering,” Garen said tactlessly. “Let the girl die already. I’m doing her a favor.”

  “You’re not going to murder her—”

  Garen pulled the trigger once. In a silenced bang (the gun had a silencer attached to it), a hole appeared in the woman’s forehead, along with a short-lived fountain of blood. All of a sudden, the woman became limp and then completely still. Serenity rose to her feet, not very stupefied. She knew this maid’s death was inevitable; Garen wasn’t going to oblige to her entreaties. Nevertheless, Garen’s actions sickened her.

  “Monster,” she shuddered, glaring right at him.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t reply.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  The search extended until just before daybreak. She was seated on the ground in the courtyard, watching overhead as the first rays of sunlight broke through the clouds and brightened the sky. It was still dark out. Sunrise was still about an hour away. Three of Viktor’s men were tasked with watching her; fortunately, they weren’t taking their job seriously. The three of them had brought chairs and a table from inside, setting it outside. They were currently immersed in a game of cards, rapturously shuffling their decks.

  Her thoughts were still revolving around her family. She could only hope that they survived. Surely the Aurelians ha
d some emergency protocol in the event of an invasion? And hopefully, Alistair was considerate enough to bring his children with him wherever he was.

  The pillars and arches of the outdoor hallways were damaged severely. A tonnage of stone rubble and debris was scattered all around the courtyard. She could still see the wispy black smoke billowing and eddying in the sky; the fire was not completely extinguished yet. The hazy air was permeated with a charcoal-like odor. She disregarded the pungent smell, unperturbed by it. She felt like she had lost a quarter of her hearing. Just hours ago, her ears were assailed by nothing but raucous warfare. It was surreal finding herself in a quiet, surprisingly tranquil setting now. The battle had pretty much abated already, and the search had extended beyond the main house and to the entire property. The majority of Viktor’s men were outside, walking along the path leading out of the courtyard which branched off into the main road. Serenity watched them dully, pondering what made them want to join Viktor. She assumed they had been paid off, and that they really were mercenaries. She still hadn’t acquired her confirmation yet.

  “Serenity,” Agno called, stepping out into the courtyard.

  She turned around; he was about half-a-dozen yards away.

  “Viktor’s calling you, let’s go,” said Agno.

  She groaned, languidly getting to her feet. As much as she wanted to refuse and just be idle, it would just stir up trouble for her. For now, she would cooperate with them. She had no other choice.

  She followed Agno back into the main house. The halls were still littered with fresh dead bodies, reinforcing the macabre of the scene. The blood on the walls and floor were already enough to give it the appearance of a horror movie set. She wished someone had the decency to just dispose of the bodies and cremate them. If not cremate, bury them.

  As she walked, Serenity realized how exhausted she was. She hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. Adrenaline kept her functioning throughout the night during the battle. In retrospect, she cogitated her survival. Something could have easily gone wrong. Whether it be a stray bullet hitting her, or her being an intended target, she could’ve died. The same applied to the brothers. All of them had somehow survived. Albeit, the battle was mostly one-sided and the death toll for Viktor’s side was considerably low. She wondered if she was shrouded by some invisible shield; like a character from a work of fiction, protected resolvedly by plot armor. Or if her death was still nigh, just not awaiting her at the moment.

  “Why the glum face?” Agno asked.

  “What reason is there to be happy…?” she said, downcast.

  “We just won the battle,” Agno scoffed. “And the war we’ve been fighting for years. Since our childhood.”

  “It was never our war we were fighting,” she said bitterly. “And sure, you guys won. Killing hundreds of innocent people in the process.”

  “That’s what happens in war,” said Agno unconcernedly. “People die. As for it not being our war? Yeah, you may be right about that.”

  “Wait, really?” she said, startled, looking up at him. “Admitting it?”

  “Once we find these Council people, we’ll steal their gold and dip,” said Agno evasively, changing the subject.

  As much as she wanted to call him out for deviating from the subject at hand, Agno’s talk of leaving reminded her of something that troubled her. She had left Kyler. He was in the barn this entire time. Alone.

  “Oh no,” she murmured in alarm, hands on her head. “Kyler!”

  “Don’t worry about him, we already sent Cackle to retrieve him,” Agno said casually. “He was pissed. Always gets stuck with the dumb jobs.”

  “You sent an angry Cackle to get him?” she said in disapproval. “Kyler’s injured. What if Cackle gets mad and drops him off a bridge?”

  “Hopefully it’s a low bridge,” Agno shrugged, making a left.

  She just now noticed where they were: the Council living quarters. All of the doors were missing, detached from their hinges violently. Through several cursory glances into a couple of the rooms, she confirmed that all the rooms had already been searched. All the furniture and décor were destroyed. Viktor was inside Alistair’s room. Garen was with him, sitting on the foot of Alistair’s bed that was surprisingly intact and untouched. Viktor was holding the framed photo of Alistair and (presumably) his late wife.

  “You know who this is?” Viktor asked her, without looking at her.

  “I think it’s his wife,” she replied. “I never asked.”

  “Oh, it’s his wife all right,” Viktor said, wildly discarding the picture by tossing it away in a corner of the room. “She died the night you were born.”

  “Huh?” she asked blankly. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I don’t mean when you were actually born,” Viktor clarified. “I mean the day you were brought into the Carlisle family.”

  “What day was that…?” she said, still confused.

  “I’m assuming the Aurelians have already told you?” Viktor said.

  “The night my parents were killed…” she said quietly. “Was Alistair there? His wife was there too? What do you know?”

  “Forget about that,” Viktor snorted. “Why do you care? And why would I care? Now, I brought you here for a reason. Look around the room. Tell me what you can find. Or what you find missing.”

  “I’ve only been here once before,” she argued. “There’s no point.”

  “Well now that you’re here again, that makes it two times you’ve been here,” Viktor jested. “That’s once more than me!”

  “Yeah, I’ve been here, like, five minutes in total,” she scowled, starting to survey the room with a resigned attitude.

  Alistair’s chamber was a complete mess. Two bookshelves were on the floor in pieces, open books piled one on top of the other untidily. Alistair’s bed had been undamaged, but the blankets and sheets were on the floor. The drawers and wardrobes had been smashed to pieces somehow, along with the mantelpiece. Had they used a sledgehammer to search this room?

  She didn’t know what she was looking for. She merely pretended she was searching for something, to placate Viktor and provide the semblance that she was cooperating. Garen wasn’t the sharpest one around, but he easily detected she was essentially lollygagging about.

  “Stop it, it’s embarrassing,” he said irritably.

  “What is?” she said.

  “How useless you are,” he replied.

  “I told you guys, I couldn’t be of any help,” she groaned.

  Serenity had explicitly emphasized before she’d be of no recourse. She was just as clueless as the others on where the Councilmen could be.

  “Besides, what do you want me to look for?”

  “Evidence that Alistair Aurelian has not left the residence, and he’s hiding somewhere in this palace of a house,” Viktor answered. “If not the house, somewhere else in the gigantic property of this estate.”

  “You guys destroyed his room,” she said. “What did it look like before you came in and wrecked the whole place?”

  “Unnaturally tidy,” Viktor responded.

  “That doesn’t say much,” Garen remarked. “These rich people always have their rooms clean. They’ve got maids and servants.”

  “Well, if we can figure out what’s missing from the room, we can guess if he left permanently or just somewhere else in the house,” said Agno.

  “That’s idiotic,” Viktor shook his head. “He wouldn’t have taken much. He was in a hurry to get out. I know he was. All of them were.”

  “They had almost thirty minutes to pack up,” Agno shrugged. “But I can see that everything you’d find in a rich guy’s bedroom isn’t missing.”

  “Mind you, we didn’t just attack them head-on,” said Viktor. “We flanked them on every side! They couldn’t have escaped.”

  “Exactly how big is your army?” she asked, in disbelief. “I don’t get it.”

  “Big enough,” Viktor said equivocally. “And you guys seem pretty fam
iliar with the layout of this place. Do you have a map or something? Where did you get one?”

  “Thank your brothers for that,” Viktor grinned. “Of course I’ve got a map. What foolish general would attack a fortress without sufficient preparation? This siege was meticulously planned out!”

  “I’m going to look around more,” said Garen, crossing over to the exit.

  “Count me in,” Viktor said, following suit.

  Serenity sat down on the bed, taking Garen’s place. Agno decided to stay behind with her, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

  “Go away,” she said broodingly.

  “Stop being such a fourteen-year-old girl,” he chided.

  “Sixteen,” she corrected. “Almost seventeen.”

  “That’s right, your birthday is coming up!” Agno laughed.

  “How the hell do you remember that?” she asked, bewildered.

  “How do you even know my birthday?”

  “How could I forget? Cackle always used to do something special for you on your birthday when we were younger. New Year’s Day!”

  This was true. Though, the definition of “special” was purely subjective. Never had Cackle done something pleasant or wholesome for her birthday. It was either supplemental torturous training, painful birthday punches, or cruel pranks.

  “Funny,” she smirked wryly. “My birthday happens to be on the day Kyler and Desmos were sentenced to death…”

  “It must denote something symbolic,” Agno postulated.

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t even know,” Agno shrugged. “How many days left, then?”

  “Three…I think…?” she struggled to recall.

  “Well, this year we’ll bring back the birthday tradition for you,” said Agno cheerfully. “Something unbelievably grand just for you.”

  “Please don’t,” she said, agitated. “And since you’re here, I have questions for you. A lot of them.”

  “Oh, that’s my signal to leave, then,” said Agno briskly. “Bye!”

  “Wait!” she pleaded. “Come on, man!”

  “You know,” said Agno observantly, “you keep scolding us for killing your little friends, yet you don’t seem all that upset.”