Epilogue
They were right. The place turned into a chaotic nightmare as the virus made its way throughout the heavily guarded walls of the pristine white mansion. Explosions had caused the mist to spread way faster deploying more than sufficient quantities of both the virus itself along with the cocktail of neuromuscular blocking agents that Divit and Mira had designed in the stale dark lab of their secret cellar.
The cocktail of the paralyzing drug was enough if Nakshatra were only looking for rescue. But the fact that he insisted to use their lab-built test virus seemed absolutely necessary for the sole purpose of revenge.
If that would be enough. Which clearly wasn’t the way he felt.
The shades of red, blue and black are painted into the once flawless pale skin of King’s face. Blood drips from the corner of his lips where Naksh’s knuckles have left a perfect mark of superiority over his father.
His torn coat button lying between the sharp dust covering the smooth white marble mocking its beauty, marking it with deadliness. The velvety paint on the walls and those huge curtains, all turned into an abstract art with the body fluids of the guards who surrounded the hall.
Shards of glass and other materials lie on the ground, ready to pierce through whoever walks on unaware. Grotesque sounds of bones shattering and flesh being torn apart echo in the halls of the once lavish mansion.
The reverberations colliding and becoming one with the noises of ghosts. Ghosts of people who have been tortured, animalized and butchered at the hands of the ones that rightly suffer alongside them now.
“But the shit show might just be the beginning.” Vuk thinks to himself while walking towards his Master. His steps careful enough not to hurt himself. He had managed to take shelter in one of the hidden chambers this mansion possesses.
And like the many that faced a similar fate like the rest of the building, this one was specially designed for King himself, which meant that anyone who stayed with him would be safe.
Vuk had escaped soon after hearing the conversation regressing towards Rose once again and unlike King, he plays safe until he has a plan. Now when he walks over to his Master unharmed, he wonders whether King is still alive.
Loyalty can be a very dangerous thing if it is for the wrong kind of people. Even if the danger does not involve you; it might be deadly for someone else.
Vuk had been loyal to his Master for a very long time. And he has no intention of giving up anytime soon.
A flash of gold catches his eyes and for an instant he feels like he saw King’s fingers twitch. Sprinting forward in relief he gets on his knee beside the unconscious drug lord, “Master... boss, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
No response.
“Please, do something if you’re okay. Give me a sign. Anything at all.” His head bows in defeat when he is met with nothing other than the lifeless expression of his supposed God.
Taking the cold hand in his own, he sighs almost breaking at the thought of being Godless. Orphaned.
Something flashes again through the corner of his teary-eyed vision. He glances towards the other hand that flashes a beam of gold with every movement of the fingers. The movements hardly there, but enough for rejoice to kick back into Vuk’s confused mind as he gasps in amazement, his eyes wide as he looks for visible signs of distress on his boss’s body.
Kissing the hand, he instantly lifts King up, whose consciousness is gradually condensing back in. “Thank you, Master. That’s all that I needed. Should I call Merlyn ma’am?” his emotions stabilizing along with King’s responsiveness.
“Y-yes.” It’s all Konstantin manages, sucking sharply through gritted teeth, the pain from getting beaten up slowing his movements.
Vuk dials Maya’s number, while Konstantin hisses under his breath, pulling his limp body up from the ground. A series of curses follow his Russian tongue, before he mutters to himself.
“Maya will not sit back.” A satanic smirk curling on his bloodied lips, “No one will be spared. No one!”
Maya’s sweet voice fills the room as Vuk turns on the speaker, “I’ve seen what he played on you. Don’t worry my love, he is our son. He won’t be able to run away.”
The sweet venom a deadly low as she speaks again. “The mistake we leave unpunished, is the mistake we’re begging for. And I don’t think we’re begging for getting cheated again.”
The vindictiveness is almost transparent as she declares her son’s conviction.
“He’ll be punished for what he has done.”