Chapter Twenty-One #2
My small hands clawed at her forearms, my eyes bulging, brain pounding, with each second that air was withheld from me.
Was this it? Was I going to die?
Mabel bellowed as she swung a lamp at Mother’s head, knocking her off me. My sister wavered, dizzy as she covered her forehead, blood pouring down her face.
I only had moments to react. Moments to decide.
“You fail everyone you love, Erabella.”
But I would not fail. Not Mabel. Not Vera.
Instead of being trapped in the closet, I would do something for once.
I rushed toward the dagger, then straddled my mother’s struggling body.
And then I stabbed her in the chest.
Her eyes shot wide, her mouth falling open.
“YOU HURT MY SISTERS!” I wailed, her face blurring from my flood of tears. “NEVER AGAIN!”
I wailed, sobbing hysterically as I punctured her chest. Over and over and over. Blood spurted from her wounds, painting my face, hands, and torso in crimson.
Stab. Stab. Stab.
“Era!” Mabel cried. “She’s dead! Stop!”
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because Vera’s eyes haunted me. Because Mabel’s cries wrecked me.
“Fairytales, that’s what they are, Era. You’ll never break free from here.”
I wanted it all to stop.
No more!
No more!
No more!
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” Ragnall roared, rushing down the steps as I straddled my mutilated mother, eyes locked on her corpse as I relentlessly drove the knife into her chest.
Ragnall roughly gripped my hair, throwing me off Mother. My shoulder slammed against the stone floor, and a semblance of reality washed over me.
Panting, I turned my head, watching as Mabel wept, as Ragnall gaped at Mother’s body.
I killed her.
Oh, Gods, I killed my mother.
“You,” Ragnall seethed, lifting a finger at my sister. “You set her up for this, didn’t you?”
Mabel tried to wipe the blood off her face and glowered at him. “I’m happy she’s dead,” she spat. “I only wished you were bleeding out on the ground with her.”
Ragnall roared as he stumbled over Mother’s body, herding Mabel into the corner of the room as he lunged for her.
“NO!” she screamed as he pinned her arms to the ground.
My arms were trembling, every ounce of strength spent on the blood I’d spilled. If I tried to stab him, I didn’t know if it would go deep enough. My eyes darted around in panic, only to land on the shelf behind me. Dozens of glass bottles were stored inside, their contents unknown to me.
If I could throw something in his eyes, disorient him, I could free Mabel!
I clutched the bottle closest to me, twisted the lid off, and whirled. “Close your eyes, Mabel!” I shouted.
Ragnall pulled away, furiously glaring at me a second too early.
No!
The contents of the bottle poured over his shoulder and down his arm…and all over my sister’s face.
My entire body stiffened—going into shock—as Mabel screeched, her hands flying to her cheeks, the liquid burning and steaming as it splashed on her skin.
Ragnall too, screamed, his arm burning from the chemical.
“GET OFF OF HER!” I shrieked.
Ragnall fell back, shuffling until his back hit the wall, gaping at his arm.
Mabel cried pitifully, her eyebrow and some of her hair melting away.
I thought it was just a bottle of liquid, a cleaner perhaps—enough to irritate his eyes.
But it was acid.
I didn’t know! I didn’t know!
“What is going on?!” A shout sounded. One of the men from upstairs, one of those vile pigs, hurried down the steps, stopping abruptly when he witnessed the sight before him.
My mother’s corpse. Mabel’s sobbing form, clutching her charred face.
Ragnall stared at me in a sickening rage before his gaze gradually lifted to the man on the steps.
“Speak nothing of this,” Ragnall uttered quietly.
“I am your highest-paying client. If you wish to keep my business, you will speak nothing of this.”
The man—presumably the person supplying them with thiloxal—eyed Mother’s bleeding body, then looked around the basement. “Well, it seems you were trying to start your own operation, no?”
“J-Just trying t-to—”
The man held up his hand, silencing Ragnall’s pathetic stammering.
He carefully made his way down, his fine boots stepping over my mother’s corpse like she was nothing but animal droppings.
The man bent down, roughly gripping Ragnall’s face.
“You will stick with the same amount,” he growled.
“Same schedule. But all equipment and materials come with me.” He roughly shook Ragnall’s face. “Get packing.”
Ragnall gnawed at his lip but nodded quickly. Mabel was shaking on the ground, her skin oozing from the acid burn.
The man pulled away slowly, his dark eyes sliding to mine. I hadn’t realized how still I was, how no muscle in my face moved.
He said nothing as he climbed back up the stairs.
I only recalled some of the whisperings as Ragnall helped those men load their carriage with whatever operation he’d attempted to start in our home, too much in a daze as I stared at Mabel, then my mother.
Mabel, then my mother. Back and forth and back and forth.
“That little girl managed to kill a grown woman! Can you believe it?”
“What’s wrong with her? She won’t move.”
“Gods, the other girl’s face. Just hideous. No man will want that.”
“Lord Achard, you should see this.”
My heart stopped, my eyes lifting to the boy who halted on the top step, eyes wide, Vera right behind him. Mother’s words came to me then.
“She meets with Lord Achard in just a week.”
The Lord she was supposed to be married to… he was but a child himself. And had arrived a day early.
Vera didn’t cry as she looked at our mother, but upon seeing Mabel’s disfigured face, she wept.
“Vera,” Lord Achard began, his voice soft. But Vera only hurried forward, pulling Mabel into her embrace. She was fading in and out of consciousness, whether from her head hitting the end table or from the acid burns, I did not know.
I still couldn’t move.
What surprised me was that the boy hurried to my sister, placing a hand on her back. In comfort.
“Era…” Vera cried softly, holding Mabel to her chest as her horrified eyes scanned the room before landing on mine. “What did you do?”
I couldn’t respond. Didn’t know how to. All that played in my mind were my mother’s words.
“You fail everyone who loves you, Erabella.”