A Bloody Mess - Vittra, Chapter 1
Another novel-in-progress, of the "steampunk" variety
The molotov rocketed screaming through the air, exploding into a ball of flames as it collided with the massive sitting-room window. The long, heavy velvet draperies flapped in the force of the blast, flames clinging to the fabric. Another bomb sailed through the blown-out window and collided with the solid oak desk across the room. Glass and flames flew everywhere.
I stood in the midst of the chaos, watching as my mother screamed and sobbed, shielding the wailing infant in her arms from the dangerous projectiles. A shard from one of the bombs jutted out from her shoulder blade, spilling blood down her back, and staining her dress dark red. I closed my eyes and looked away. I cringed as the whistle of a third cocktail drew nearer, knowing what was about to take place. My fingers subconsciously touched the jagged scar that disfigured the right side of my face. I mentally braced myself for the inhuman screech that I knew was coming.
My gaze fell on the cloaked figure concealed in the shadows of the far corner of the room. Bright yellow eyes met mine with a cool, even stare from behind a mask of Thalia. His arms were crossed over his chest, his stance conveying a stern warning. I averted my eyes like an obedient dog.
And then Mother’s howl of pain rang through the entire house. The walls shuddered with haunting, unearthly sound. It ripped through my soul and shattered all previous resolve I had to do as I had been instructed. I watched as the baby fell from Mother’s arms, the flesh of the right side of its face torn and bloody. Mother fell backwards, her own face shredded and wet with flowing blood. The bomb had exploded mere feet away from her, granting her no time to dive out of its blast. Searing shards of glass bit into the flesh of her face, neck, and chest. Very few of the shards had managed to sink into the skin of the child, who was truly deserving of the entire blow.
I started towards Mother, and then felt the eyes of the figure in the corner stabbing into me. I stopped.
I have to make it right. I clenched my fists at my side and set my jaw, daring to meet his unsettling stare.
You cannot change what has already been set in motion, Minerva.
I have to help her!
What’s done is done. You cannot change what has already been set in motion.
I screamed aloud in rage, sinking to my knees as I dug my fingers into my head in frustration.
She’s my mother!
You cannot change what has already been set in motion.
This is my doing!
You were a child, Minerva. You had no control.
Mother lay still and deathly silent in the floor. The infant was still wailing, and its cries only fueled my rage. I glared at the little being, who lay soaking in its own blood, its body tense with the immense amount of pain that coursed through it.
I gasped, doubling over as I felt that pain once again. I glared at the shadow, knowing it was his doing. His gaze remained cool and unmoving. But I could also see the firm warning still burning behind that veil.
Let me help her!
You cannot change what has already been set in motion.
I weakly collapsed to the floor. You can’t make me do this…
You must.
No! Just let me help her! I can make it right!
You cannot change what has already been set in motion.
Yes! Yes, I can!
Minerva!
I leapt to my feet and lunged toward the child, unaware of the shadow closing in behind me. Just as my hands reached out to wrap around the infant’s neck, hands as cold as ice wrapped around my face, roughly yanking me backwards.
No! I inwardly seethed, fighting the grip until it released me.
You cannot change what has—
SHUT UP! I lunged forward again.
Suddenly he was between me and my target. Before I could double backward, he reached out and grasped my head between his cold hands. A searing pain even worse than what I had felt when shards of glass had been embedded in my face wracked my entire being as a blinding white glare filled my vision. My body went limp, falling into the figure’s arms.
You cannot change what has already been set in motion…