41. Seraphina
41
SERAPHINA
“THERE IS NO MERCY”
The bells. The bells of death are tolling.
Sobs echo throughout the gold-hewn hallway, rattling my skull with a violence that compels me to stop. The wall in front of me pitches to the side as gold drips down in thick, messy puddles, coating my bare feet in molten lava as the sounds of grief imbue the hollow halls of my mind. They scratch something deep in my nervous system, something long since forgotten—and they order me to investigate. To see . To remember.
And so, I do .
A man is bleeding on the ground—a Mask. And not just any Mask, but a Phantom. I shouldn’t save him, but Maggie is there, urging me on. She reminds me of all the times she helped me . Every smile she threw my way, each tender embrace, all her unconditional love, respect, and support. She reminds me what it is to be gracious and to plant kindness in the dark places where it no longer blooms.
And so, when she tells me to save him… I do.
I grab my last syringe of Vespyr and shove it deep into his wound. I spare his life, like I wished they had spared Maggie’s, and after, my soul feels lighter. Like somewhere, somehow, Maggie is smiling down on me. For choosing to be a little bit kinder. A little bit better . A little bit more like her.
When I’m done, I stumble toward Madam’s quarters, the walls dripping and swaying around me, causing my stomach to flip. I know now what this is—that the strange auras, the hallucinations, the way my mind fractures—all of it is due to the powerful hallucinogens Dr. Kebler has been pumping me full of. I don’t know how long the effects will last, but somehow, I have to focus. I have to end this.
I push open the secret door into Madam’s chambers. My vision is swimming, bursts of color exploding everywhere I look. I step to the center of the room, trying to make out the fuzzy shapes spread around the floor, thick swaths of red spreading from them like halos. I don’t understand—not until I crouch next to one—not until I swirl my fingers around the warm red liquid do I realize the forms spread around the room are dead bodies.
And not just any dead bodies—corpses of the Table Members. Their bird masks are still strapped to their faces, but the brilliant gold hue is dimmed greatly by the blood and filth spattered across the impressive beaks.
Who… who could have done something like this?
My mind is brought back to the four strangers in the hall. If the dying man was indeed a Phantom, then there’s no doubt he was the perpetrator of this mass killing.
I gaze around the circular room, my eyes landing on each of the fallen Table Members. Instead of sadness or even regret, the only thing pulsing through my body is raw, blazing hatred. It should have been me . This should be the evidence of my vengeance spread across Madam’s floor.
It should have been mine.
A shuddering gasp fills the air, and my eyes drag to a golden heap on the opposite side of the room. A thick trail of blood spreads from where she’s dragged herself away from the carnage, but there’s no doubt about it—the Madam is still alive. There’s an empty syringe of Vespyr lying on the ground, and I know she will live through this. That is, if I don’t do anything to stop her.
I look to my right and find Maggie’s kind eyes shining on me. Her aura bursts from her shoulders in a magnificent shade of pink, a large golden circle surrounding her head—like a halo.
Magoo… My eyes fill with tears as I take in her shining white smile.
“It’s okay,” she says, standing tall. “You can do this, Nina. It was only ever you who could.”
Holding back my sobs, I reach into my pocket, my fingers curling around the hilt of my dagger. My mind runs through every memory I had with Maggie—every kind smile, tear, and embrace. I remember how she would scrunch her nose whenever I said something stupid, and how she never judged me for any of my misgivings. She was a good friend—the best friend—and I only wish we had more time together.
“I love you, Maggo.” I hold onto the dagger like a lifeline. “I’m so—I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
She just smiles, tilting her head. “Oh, silly Nina. Do you still not realize?” I watch unblinking as Maggie fades from the air, fading into nothingness once more. Before she dissolves completely, her lilting voice fills the air, twisting up my insides and making me want to break down all over again.
“You did.”
I blink at the spot Maggie used to occupy, all the sorrow and despair fading, making way for a new emotion.
Hatred.
Because I remember now—I remember what the Sanctum did to me. I remember what they took from me.
And for that, they will pay.
I raise my dagger high, racing toward the Madam with a bellow of rage. She looks up at me from the floor, a line of blood dripping from her gasping mouth as she realizes what I mean to do. She raises a shaking hand, uselessly trying to cover her face as I straddle her with my feet.
“Seraphina, please!” she screams, shutting her eyes tight. “Please, have mercy!”
“ Mercy? ” A hollow laugh fills the air. “Did you show Maggie mercy?” I crouch low, pressing the tip of the dagger to the center of her forehead as she lets out a terrified wail. “Did you show her mercy when you fed her to the crows? When you made me watch? ” I push the blade further into her flesh, a cruel smile carving across my face as a pearl of red mars her perfect pale skin. “There is no mercy for monsters like you.” I drag the blade down the middle of her forehead, splitting the skin open as I go. A pained wail falls from her bloodied lips, but there’s not even a pinch of sympathy in my heart.
All I know—all I am—is hate.
I position the dagger vertically above her eye, stopping so the tip is a centimeter from her pupil. “You remember this game, don’t you? It was your favorite.”
Whimpering, the Madam nods her head imperceptibly.
“Good.” I adjust my grip, staring deep into her cruel green eyes. “First question… what was Maggie’s favorite color?”
Her mouth pops, and she sputters. “Wha—how would you expect me to know something like that? It’s not fair?—”
I shove the blade through her eye.
“Fuck!” she screams, her body convulsing against the newfound pain. “Fuck! Fuck!”
“Wrong answer. It was pink.” I press down on her chest while I hold the dagger in her eye. “Let’s hope you get the next one right.”
“Seraphina, please!” she wails, tears streaming from the corner of her good eye. “Seraphina, I’m sorry! Please, please, let me go! We can fix this!”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” An image of Maggie flashes in my mind. “Next question—and probably the last—so think hard. I’ll give you an easy one—something you couldn’t possibly get wrong. Not with all the years you spent with her.” I take a deep breath, steadying my hand as I prepare to ask the question.
“What was Maggie’s full name?”
Madam jerks, her breath coming hard and fast as she tries to recall Maggie’s name. With each second that passes, each moment she fails to remember, I grow angrier. More bloodthirsty.
“Come, now. Surely you remember the name of the girl you raised? The one you desecrated and fed to fucking crows. Surely, you remember.”
Her bottom lip quivers. “I’m sorry… I don’t—I don’t remember. She was just a girl. Just fodder for the real candidates. It was nothing personal.”
I shake my head, disgust filling my veins, burning me up from the inside. I tighten my grip until I think I’ll snap the handle of the dagger, never taking my eyes from her one good one.
“That’s funny. Because this definitely is.”
Slowly, oh so slowly, I shove the dagger deep. She convulses, shuddering as the blade pierces her brain tissue, and then she goes still. I sit back on my heels, heaving as I stare down at the lifeless body of the Madam. She’s gone. She’s really, truly gone.
The truth doesn’t make my chest any less hollow.
My vision fractures as I stand, the room tilting and swaying around me, and I have to steady a hand against the wall to keep myself upright. Red crowds my eyes as I stumble to the back of Madam’s chambers, entering the secret door set into the wall that leads to her personal alchemy room.
Three large barrels line the back wall of her alchemy room, bright red Flammable warnings stamped on the side. I stumble toward them, a plan forming in the depths of my mind. I grab a box of matches from the table and stuff them deep in my pocket, then using all my strength, I push the first barrel over. The pungent vapor of the benzene assaults me as it evaporates into the air, and I have to pull my shirt over my nose to stave off the worst of the smell.
I roll the barrel into the main room, leaving a thick trail of flammable liquid behind me. When it’s lighter, I'm able to lift it enough to coat the carpets and pour it over the dead bodies—saving Madam for last.
Gazing at my handiwork, I step backward out of the room, drawing the box of matches from my pocket. I light the match, watching the golden flame flutter and grow, sparks of energy reaching—clinging to the molecules of benzene that hang heavy in the air.
I blink, and it’s Maggie’s face I see in the fire. She’s smiling—and it’s a good smile. A pure smile. One free of fear. Free of the hatred. Free of the rage that’s seeping into the marrow of my bones, infecting every part of me and twisting my insides into one angry mass of red.
I take one last look at my best friend, carving her expression into my memory so I will already remember what they took from me. What they destroyed .
I flick the match across the room, and I burn it.
I burn it all.
I wake for the last time, tears streaming down my cheeks and the cold night air whipping against my skin. I look around the dark streets of Moriton, a chill creeping down my spine as I try to remember how in the fuck I got outside.
My memories play in my mind like a horror movie, jumping from scene to scene so violently and rapidly, I can’t make sense of them. But I do know one thing for sure.
I’m in a new kind of hell. One I can’t escape from.