!Warning: M (16+)-rated themes: Depiction of violence and blood.
- XLV -
The boy was the first to scream in horror – a high, bloodcurdling shriek from his otherwise so tacit lips – as his mother stabbed his father, the long blade easily piercing the right side of Lajos's chest.
The man's eyeballs protruded in shock and a hideous gurgling sound escaped his throat, but before he could utter a scream himself, a fountain of bright red liquid sprang from his mouth, spattering his gown, Semira's dress and the rough stone floor.
Moments ago, it had been only her hands and lips, but now Ilona's whole body began to tremble violently. What had just happened? What had her sister-in-law done?! Ilona wanted to throw herself at her, between them, wanted to save her brother from the deadly weapon, but she seemed to be rooted to the spot, unable to move a limb, her warm brown eyes wide in terror.
Even when Semira withdrew the blade, Lajos was still clawing her sleeve with his right hand, instinctively holding onto it to support himself.
"Get your dirty hands off me, you swine!" She hissed, raising the blood-dripping knife again, her beautiful features contorted in pure hatred. "You. Will. Never. Touch. Me. Again."
With every word she drove the blade back into her odious husband's torso, again and again and again, until his massive body slumped down and collapsed on his back. For a second, Lajos's watery eyes stared at the ceiling, aghast and unbelieving, before a milky veil covered them, turning them into lifeless orbs.
At the sight of her brother's motionless figure, Ilona's knees gave way under her and she dropped to the floor, shaking, but unable to say a word.
A moment of silence followed the gruesome act, disturbed only by Adorjan's whimpering. Semira ignored her son's sobs, turning around to face the man she just had committed murder for. She took on a proud posture, raising her chin and spreading her arms, presenting her blood-drenched dress to Viktor as proof of her willingness to become his.
The warlord silently examined the grotesque scene that unfolded before him, before he knitted his eyebrows in disapproval.
"Poor woman," he finally addressed Semira. "Did you really think that killing that simpleton would impress me and convince me to take you as my wife, instead of Ilona?"
A cruel smile played at the corner of his thin lips. "Let me tell you this, foolish mortal. In my long life, I have seen and done extraordinary things, things a child like you cannot imagine, not even in your wildest dreams. This...", he pointed at the bloodbath on the floor. "...is nothing to me."
Semira's face fell at his words, and for a moment she let her arms sink to her sides like she realised she had failed, like she gave up. But then, instead of dropping her weapon, she unexpectedly made two steps back, quickly grabbing her son by the scruff of his neck and drawing him to her in a swift motion.
"Adorjan! No!" Ilona screamed, finally finding her voice again, fighting her nightmare-like paralysis, struggling to get up.
But before she could even make a step towards her sister-in-law, Semira already ran the blade through her son's throat, causing a second fountain of hot red lifeblood to gush to the floor.
Sobbing, Ilona stumbled forward, slipping on the blood-soaked carpet. She got only a short glimpse of the terrified expression on her nephew's face, before they both hit the floor. Her head spinning in horror, the young woman crawled to the child, desperate to somehow help him, save him from this nightmare, but when turning the body over and cradling him in her trembling arms, she realised that there was no hope. The boy she loved like her son was gone, murdered by his own mother.
A maniacal grin appeared on Semira's face when she pushed the corpse of Lajos's useless offspring away. That weakling of a boy had never truly been her son. Then she turned to Viktor again.
"Do you acknowledge it now, my will to leave everything behind to become like you?" she asked in a throaty voice.
A bitter smile on his thin lips, the Elder folded his arms, slowly shaking his head.
At the same moment, two guards opened the door to the guest quarters, alarmed by the screams they had heard. The men stopped abruptly at the sight of the carnage in the small sitting room.
Viktor gestured for them to approach. Then, in an almost tired tone he said only two words: "Arrest her."
The soldiers took a hold of Semira's arms, who oddly enough dropped the knife and didn't struggle against them. When they led her to the door, her insane grin even broadened.
"This was my testimony, Viktor. Now you know what I am capable of," she whispered almost seductively to him, before the guards finally removed her from the room.
The warlord ignored her and waited for the door to close behind them, before he took a careful step in Ilona's direction, crossing the soaked carpet. The smell of such an amount of mortal blood usually would have aroused his predatory instincts, but he kept telling himself that he had more important things to do now.
The girl was still crouched on the floor, cradling her nephew's lifeless body in her arms. Gently, Viktor touched her shoulder, and frightened, she raised her head, her face a mess of tears and the boy's blood.
Of course, the vampire could have intervened. By using his supernatural speed and strength, it would have been easy to stop Semira. But he hadn't. He had let fate take its course, because the woman's outburst of violence had served him quite well.
"Oh Ilona, my dear child..." Viktor whispered in a both sorrowful and fatherly tone. "I am so sorry."
Caught in her never-ending nightmare, Ilona couldn't see straight, her vision blurred by countless tears. Lajos, Adorjan. Their names kept repeating in her head over and over again, every syllable causing a painful stab in her chest, like the murderess' blade was now driving into her own heart, too.
But then, somewhere in that maze of grief, behind the red veil of agony, a soft and soothing voice called her name.
"Ilona, come to me..."
And she threw herself into Viktor's arms.