More gunshots rang out, and Octavia raised her knife in the air, ready to attack.

But when she saw the face of her attacker, she stopped cold in her tracks, double-stopping to make sure her eyes weren't pulling some sick trick on her. She had to be hallucinating, right? There was no way, no way in hell it was happening.

The words that came next validated the terrible thought in her head.

"Did you miss me?" Stella hissed, firing again as Octavia hit the ground hard, trying to get up multiple times while also trying to keep her vitals out of sight.

"I believe we've already met," Monte said with a devilish smile, "And we're going to have quite the time together."

She couldn't believe her eyes.

And with that, a confusing swirl of emotions developed her, breaking through her mind like water from a dam, swirling around uncontrollably and clouding her judgement, even through the adrenaline rush that she was going through. Dizziness and fatigue began to push their way to the front of her mind, now unsure on how to react.

Her own mother? There was no way…

Monte, sure, that was expected, but mom?

Stella had been bad to her and Stolas in the past, far more cruel than what would be considered "abusive." Every day either her or her father would get some sort of scolding, or even beating if things got bad enough, Octavia flinching at the very sound of her voice. But she couldn't have imagined in a million years that she would go this far, as to go out and attempt to kill her own family.

She wanted to be mad, and to fight back, and to release seventeen years of built-up anger on her, finally paying her back for what she had done.

But in practice, attacking your mother was very difficult. With familiar faces, came familiar pain, and familiar hesitation.

What rubbed even more salt on the wound, was the fact that her mother had once been a kind and caring woman, too. It hadn't always been like this. Back in the day, when she had been only a few years old, her mother had been just as comforting and parental as Stolas had been.

Once the affair was discovered, though, all hell broke loose, and from then on her life had been on a consistent downhill slope.

Now, she stared directly into the barrel of the gun, being held by the one that had once been nurturing to her. Any affection or love in her eyes was long gone, Octavia making direct contact with them. They were grey and dead, devoid of any humanity that was left in them before. The woman that had once been her mother was now truly gone, buried too far in a trench of hate to be brought back. For the longest time, she had hoped that maybe Stella would change her tone, and that somehow the family would make up, and finally be functional again.

She had said it before, but this time she meant it.

There was no going back now. Her mother was officially gone.

But what Octavia did next, shocked her.

She raised the knife in her hands, and seeing that she wouldn't be able to get close to her mother without getting shot, steadied her arm and propelled it forward, putting a spin on the blade in the hopes that it would land with the point up.

Did I just do that?

Holy crap…

I did.

Stella let out a grunt as the knife landed in her shoulder, drawing the smallest amount of blood from her arm. Royals didn't get injured easily, but it would be a start. The start of Octavia's uprising, and Stella's downfall.

There was a terrible silence as the rain of bullets stopped, Stella turning around and poking her shoulder, mouth agape. Like she was surprised that Octavia had actually fought back instead of remaining the passive teenage daughter that she desperately wanted her to be, vulnerable and easy to take advantage of. A target that wouldn't fight back, and wouldn't dare question her out of fear, giving Stella ultimate power.

Stolas had the same blank expression on his face that was clearly trying to mask anger, hands bare.

To her left, Millie and Loona were already drawing their weapons and charging with full speed, while Blitzo was still confined in a cell.

Octavia stood up, noticing that her clothes felt damp and cold, like she had just gone swimming. She credited it to nerves, the same cold feeling wrapping around her feet and creeping up her legs.

She wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do, having to choose between either killing her own mother, or letting innocents die in the process. "Analysis paralysis" had never seemed like an issue to her, until now.

Any time that was left to think was abruptly cut off when Monte leaped out of the shadows and joined in shooting, him and Stella guarding the exits in the near-total darkness of the brig.

Octavia didn't hesitate in going after Monte, hitting him with multiple swipes to the arm and face, swinging back and forth to keep herself from being impaled. Stolas joined her, pinning his arm while Millie landed a couple shots to his left hand.

Which would've worked, if they weren't nobles with superior genes and the pain tolerance of a bull on steroids.

The bullets and knives were supposed to serve as distractions, to buy them time to get Blitzo out. The killing part was supposed to come once there were enough of them to deal considerable damage, which they had hoped until now would include the group they were in now.

It became painfully clear that Monte and Stella weren't dying anytime soon, and it looked like Millie and Loona had realized that, shimmying over to Blitzo's cell as the gunshots continued to ring out.

"Guys!" Blitzo shouted, "A-Any closer to getting that door open?"

"We're tryin'!" Millie called out while blocking shots with the blade of her axe.

"Well, fuckin' hurry!"

Octavia didn't quite understand the rush, running further back into the room to try and investigate, still throwing knives back in Monte's direction while Loona and Stolas kept them occupied.

It was becoming increasingly harder to run, though, an invisible force holding her back as her lower body grew numb.

What the fuck is happening?

Where are the lights?

I can't see anything.

Before long her entire body up to her forearms was going numb, and she was becoming increasingly cold and slow.

And that was when it hit her.

This wasn't some stroke, or invisible force, or anything else.

She was standing in waist-high water. And it was getting higher.

"Guys?!" she called out, "T-There's water in here..?"

"No shit!" Blitzo hissed, Octavia spotting him trapped behind a row of iron bars, the water up to his shoulders already.

She glanced back at her father, not sure who she should help. Loona and Stolas were still holding off Monte and Stella fairly well, but she knew it wouldn't end very well.

But Blitzo was also in more urgent need, the water rising higher and higher with each passing second. And she wasn't about to let him drown. She knew her father could last at least a couple more minutes, and if Blitzo didn't get out soon, he wouldn't have that much time.

Another challenge, as if the others weren't enough, was her own inability to swim. Dad had always been talking about teaching her, but after word of his affair got out, there wasn't any time left for them to go. And being a royal, she had no need to go out swimming anyways, so the opportunity had never come up.

The icy liquid kept moving up, already beginning to lap at her shoulders. She turned around to make sure Monte and Stella were far enough away, before gripping a pipe on the ceiling and pulling herself up.

She was almost ready to lower herself in and begin picking the lock, when Millie surfaced next to her holding a hair tie, scaring the living daylights out of her.

"I'm going down," Millie gasped, already sounding out of breath, "Make sure those fuckers don't get over here, alright? "

"Um...sure," Octavia breathed, trying to keep herself from panicking.

Blitzo wrapped his hand around the bar, "Hurry up, fuckers! I'm not dyin' like this!"

Millie nodded, before taking in a deep breath and disappearing into the darkness, tensions high. Now she had to worry about getting Blitzo out, keeping Millie from drowning herself, and watching the gunfight going on behind them, glancing over her shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure they stayed away.

She had no idea how that little imp had the courage to go down there. Even with her head above the waterline, it already felt like she couldn't breathe. Not to mention how disorienting the darkness had to have been, along with the cold. It was basically asking to die, and as the seconds turned into tens of seconds, she became increasingly worried that she had somehow drowned down there.

And if something did happen to her, what could Octavia do? She couldn't exactly get down there without putting her own life in danger. If she held onto the wall, maybe she could do it, but that was about it, still clinging to the pipe

It had been a full minute now, and Octavia was beginning to consider trying to get down there and check on her, her own head growing light. She had been unconsciously holding her breath too, despite the fact that she didn't need to.

"Hurry up!" Blitzo shouted again, pitching his head towards the ceiling, "I'm gonna fuckin' die!"

"I-Is she okay?" Octavia asked, just having passed the minute and a half mark.

Just then, a hand reached up and grabbed Blitzo, dragging him into the water and away from sight.

One minute forty five seconds…

There was a loud bang at the end of the hall, followed by a loud bubbling sound.

One minute fifty five seconds.

Something brushed up against her leg from under the water, Octavia reflexively pulling herself back.

Two minutes.

Right before Octavia was ready to go down there and make sure she was alive, Millie shot up through the water, Blitzo in hand, hacking up seawater and looking like they had just seen a ghost.

"Got him!" she hacked, holding Blitzo in her hands as they pushed themselves forward and away from the rising water.

"I thought you were dead!" Octavia blurted, not intending to sound as worried as her voice implied.

Millie laughed in-between coughs, "Had to push it a bit, but I've done worse. Back on my farm, my brothers used to throw me into the ponds and dogpile on me. This was nothin'!"

The three of them made their way back towards the other side of the room with as much speed as their legs would allow them. Octavia whipped out another knife, throwing it across the room and landing another hit on Monte's shoulder, now down to only a single melee knife that she hoped would be enough to keep her alive.

The lights began to flicker around them, the incoming seawater short-circuiting the wiring. That iceberg must've hit them harder than once thought, and she hoped to hell that whatever failsafes were in place for flooding would be able to draw the sea back out, before it got any further into the ship .

"You took everything from me!" Stella shouted, slashing Stolas across the face with a knife, making a second diagonal scar that formed an X with Stolas's other scar from the ring.

Her father remained stoic and silent, breathing deeply before reaching into his pocket for something, while Millie waved a machete around near Monte, the man somehow recovering from each hit.

"Why won't ya just die already?!" Millie hissed, watching the scar tissue from on Monte's face almost instantly, the bleeding coming to a halt.

We're gonna need more weapons.

A lot more…

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp among her group, and Octavia spun around to see what was going on. Even Stella seemed taken aback, and when her eyes landed on her father, she found her own jaw hanging open.

Stolas stood in the corner, waving a blessed rifle back and forth, finger on the trigger and seemingly ready to fire at any moment. A switch seemed to have gone off in his head, a painfully detached expression in his eyes accompanied with an empty glare.

"We're going to have a talk." Stolas said with an articulate voice while balling his free hand into a fist.

Now, seeing her father pissed off usually was enough to strike enough fear into her heart, even if it wasn't directed at her. But something about being so visibly consumed by anger and righteous fury, yet also remaining calm and talking as if they were discussing the weather, scared her even more. Because a man who yelled was only trying to be intimidating, not caring about truly handling the issue. They were unregulated, and easily burned out, lacking order and clearly letting emotions do the talking.

Somebody who remained emotionless when faced with unholy amounts of rage and resentment, even when lashing out would be completely justified, was rare and scary. He had emotional control and regulation that most demons lacked, even the higher-ups. Somebody with emotional control would be bottling up deadly amounts of ill-will, but would be smart about it instead of giving in. There was no telling what he was going to do next, especially with such a lethal weapon in his arsenal.

Had he possibly made a mistake in pulling out the handgun?

Yes.

Did he regret it?

No.

His daughter and associates were in danger, and he wasn't going to stand by and let them have their way with the only people he cared about.

Bringing the gun with him on the trip was a last-minute decision, having seen it sitting on his nightstand and deciding to bring it as a precaution, even though he still had the book. And he was glad that he had done so, now being faced with what was possibly the biggest threat to their safety in all of the nine circles.

But something inside of him was keeping him from pulling the trigger.

It wasn't fear for his own life, he didn't care about that. Nor was it a fear of failing and missing the shot. He had better aim than almost everybody in hell, and he knew that hitting a target, even if moving, would be an easy feat.

What was holding him back was the face looking back at him.

Stella.

As much as he despised her very existence, spat in her direction, and wanted nothing more than for her to leave the family and disappear. As much as she had hurt him and his daughter, and walked all over them, and treated them like garbage. As much anger he had directed at her, and how much he truly didn't give a shit what happened to her…

He couldn't pull that trigger.

How could anybody kill the one they had married? The one that had helped raise my kid? The one that I had willingly married? The one that had once been loving and caring, growing cold in the shadow of an affair.

The face brought back a flurry of memories, both painful and nostalgic. How anxious he had been proposing to her. How jubilant they had been when Octavia was born, and how exciting the first few years of raising her had been. How they would stay up for hours just happy to be with each other, and would surprise each other with gifts and celebrations on the few days they had off.

And then the affair happened.

It was only supposed to be a one time thing.

It was never meant to last…

She had been growing cold to him before the affair, but the second she had found Blitzo in his bed, all hell had broken loose. No matter how often he tried to make up, he would be shut down and locked away. And worst of all, he couldn't divorce her and get his daughter away, bound to marriage by hell's idioic customs.

But even through all of their fights, and beatings, and screaming matches, he had never imagined her going this far. Sure, she had threatened him with it before, but had always chickened out, giving into the tempting hand of rage and making empty threats that only damaged her authority and credibility.

Now, seeing her standing there with hatred in her eyes, he had to accept that any hope of her redeeming herself was gone. Up until a few days ago, there had been an echo of hope in his mind, the remnants of a colored dream; a fantasy that would never come to fruition.

Nobody dared speak to him as he still held out the weapon, cowering in fear before him. Blessed weapons were quite the equalizer, even managing to scare off Stella and Monte, the two raising their own weapons and backing up against the wall.

"Holy shit…" Blitzo huffed, barely a whisper.

"Whatcha gonna do with that?" Stella said, a hint of fear in her voice.

Stolas had to choose his next words very carefully, and luckily he considered himself to be quite the orator. Getting people to listen to you and believe you was part of being a royal, and he was about to put his conflict de-escalation skills to the test.

"That depends," he said, "What are you doing?" Stolas pointed to Monte, and then the weapons on both of their hands.

He took in a deep breath that he hoped they wouldn't hear, not wanting to make his rage noticeable. After all, the calm man filled with rage was feared much more than one blinded by anger.

"That's for me to know, and for you to shut up," she hissed, loading a bullet into her own blessed gun's chamber, "You know what you did."

The lights flickered again, Stolas barely noticing as tensions rose to an all-time high. One wrong move would get all of them killed, and his anxious trigger finger wasn't doing him any favors.

He closed his eyes, trying to channel the anger that had been building up for over a decade, forcing the painful memories back into his head. How horrible she had been to him, beating him and trying to assault Blitzo when he was running out of his bedroom. How cruel she had been to Octavia, resorting to both emotional and physical violence. How she showed no remorse for her actions, and saw herself as the hero in her own twisted narrative, distorted beyond the point of recognition.

The memory of Octavia's painful yelp on the day Stella had attacked them was enough to finally ignite the fuse in his heart, now only seconds away from blowing up an unleashing hell on the woman that he had once called his wife.

Do it for Octavia.

She's too far gone.

And just as he was going to swallow his emotions and try to shoot, there was a loud moan from the back of the room, followed by the sound of flowing water and the flickering of the lights, turning off and plunging them into darkness.

Monte fired a bullet, the muzzle flash illuminating the room for a brief moment as push came to shove.

"Run!" Blitzo shouted, grabbing Stolas's hand and running with him as something cold lapped up against his feet.

Stolas reached around with his free hand, careful not to accidentally shoot with the other. Blessed bullets were quite difficult to come across, and to waste them would be foolish, and Stolas wasn't one to tolerate foolishness in such a high-stakes situation.

"Octavia!" he called out, realizing that he couldn't feel her hand gripping his, flailing his hand around only to be met with empty air with no sign of his daughter.

"Don't you go running!" Stella fumed, firing into the darkness, "You bastards aren't getting away until you're all in coffins! Do you hear me?!"

But of course, Stolas didn't listen, instead sprinting for his life while keeping the gun close. He wanted to try and hit them, but also didn't want to be quite literally taking a shot in the dark. Not when his daughter was still out there, unaccounted for in the darkness.

"I don't see her!" Stolas heard Millie shout, "Ay, princess, where are you?!"

Another muzzle flash illuminated the room, Stolas managing to catch a glimpse of something that he hoped he would never have to see.

Stella had Octavia in her arms, and in the brief second that the room was illuminated, he could see her struggling to escape the woman's grasp. A fearful expression was painted on her face, while Stella was holding a gun to her head with a finger on the trigger.

He felt sick, nearly throwing up from fear and panic right there on the spot. To see his trigger-happy wife ready to kill their daughter at the slightest aggression. That was low, even for a fucking demon.

His eyes began to glow red, providing a faint light against the horrid blackness.

"Put her down!" Stolas screamed, fury in his voice. What little control he had one possessed over himself was gone, now going on a tirade and shouting his lungs out, wanting nothing more than for his daughter to find her way to safety.

Remembering the gun, he whipped his hand up and fired once, now having an idea of where they were so he could avoid hitting Octavia by accident. He only tried once, not wanting to expend his precious supply too soon.

"Dad!' Octavia called out, "Help-"

Her voice was muffled by what sounded like Stella's hand, the hag replying "Shut your mouth or you'll be spitting gum out through your forehead, little bitch."

Oh hell no.

He heard Stella's voice again, her partner remaining oddly silent, "Why the fuck are you worried, anyways? Your big strong daddy is gonna come save you, right? Like he always. Fucking. Does."

"Via! We're coming!" Stolas called out, before turning back down to face Blitzo, "Come on, I'm not going to let those heathens take my daughter!"

"We're trying!" Blitzo said, "I can't see shit in this light!"

More faint rumbling began from deeper in the back, what felt like water rising up to Stolas's waist.

"Is that water?" Stolas asked, "What on Earth…?"

"Yeah. We're flooding. Now keep moving before I shove a broom up your ass and drag you along like a puppet."

"Would you do that?"

"Shut the fuck up."

His eyes only illuminating a few feet in front of him, Stolas ran face-first into a wall, a bruise forming on his face while the damage healed with impressive speed.

"Ow!" he muttered, before leaping back to his feet and sprinting as fast as he could.

"Dad!" Octavia shouted out again, the sound triggering paternal instincts that he wasn't aware he had.

Nobody lays hands on my daughter.

Nobody.

You fuckers are going to pay for this.

Even if it kills me.

Octavia's screams began to fade as Stolas thought he was getting closer, disappearing behind a sharp turn that he couldn't identify. As he ran further and further away, the ground grew direr around them, finally getting ahead of the flooding.

"Octavia!" he called out a final time in a panic, this time being met with no answer.

No.

A faint light became visible at the end of the hallway, footsteps audible from where they were standing. Maybe, just maybe he would manage to catch up to them and keep Stella and Monte from claiming another one of his friends.

Now he was weighed down by regret, wishing he had pulled the trigger faster. Wishing that he had acted with greater speed, instead of hesitating and allowing his daughter to be taken hostage. Moxxie and Blitzo being taken away was bad enough, but the thought of Octavia being beaten and killed hurt him the most. And why wouldn't it? Raising somebody from an owlet to a teenager, and then having to face losing them? That would break even the strongest of men.

He finally reached an illuminated portion of the hallway, and was broken by what he found.

Nothing. Nothing except for blood stains on the wall and claw marks.

They had taken her.

And it was all his fault.