I just had to believe it. To stop the continuance of pain—perhaps this is what Cecilia had meant by saving him.
Using the two keys on my belt, I stepped forward into the dark corridor and found myself at the door Silas had promised me it would bring me to. I poked my head inside the lab to see if he was working, only to find that it was empty. Moving on, I grew more on edge with each creak and moan. My heart drummed on overtime. The farther I pressed, the more the castle withered.
The hallways shifted, creating new passages, walls crumbling and rotting into dust, and the floors caked in black soot creaked with my weight. The smell of rot was incredibly potent. I covered my nose with my sleeve to no avail. It clung to the living, into the dingy darkness I traveled into. A ghost popped between walls, floating listlessly without paying much attention. I nearly knocked back onto the shredded carpet.
I looked back to the stretch of dark corridor. It filled me with a sense of foreboding. I stood, shaking off the feeling. I had to see this through if not for me but the little girl eaten alive by the shadows of the castle. I shuddered a breath, body vibrating as the blade shook. If I were to run into Silas, I’d be dead.
The hallway ended abruptly to a red door. The door, compared to the rest of the surrounding wood,appeared to be in better condition, smooth and free of the dank rot underfoot. I sent out a silent prayer to anyone who’d listen and grasped the handle, hoping I was right.
Before I lose the nerve to do it.
I gripped the knife, unlocking the door a crack. Peering through it, I noticed the room was drawn in inky blackness, all except for a small candlelight from the bedside table. A form laid upon the bed, not moving at all—not even a single hitch from its chest to signal signs of life. I cautiously entered, my back flat against the wall, shuffling slowly into the space.
Silas’s icy drawn face was still, flickering under the light. He appeared dead, pale rigor mortis and all. The four-poster bed was in shambles, the posts collapsed and leaned against the other for support as the fabric draped the bed in shredded cobwebs. The illumination played off his hair, glowing with every flicker draping over the webs. His mask sat on the bedside table, leaving his left face bare. The rest of him was dressed in black, with his hands clasped together onto his stomach. It struck me. This was as if Silas was dressed for death, and this was his tomb.
A beautifully curated tomb for a beast.
My heart skipped a beat. I prayed to whatever gods were listening that he could not hear it as he laid there blissfully unaware. I mustered any courage that was in my body. The same affirmation propelled me forward to the bed, hovering the stakeover his chest—his heart.
The knife shook within my palm, and the surety to do such a task vanished with each line I repeated over in my head.
Ineedto do this.
Ihaveto do this.
I needed to do this for the little girl, for the people in that town who suffer at his hand. I have to do this for my freedom. The sooner he is dead, the sooner my problems are solved.
The knife trembled in my hand, my own breaths quickening. I forced my arms to drop only to find that they couldn’t. Tears stung my eyes. The tip traced the outer part of his blouse. I only need to press it in, so why couldn’t I?
One little swift movement, and everything would be done with. I can go and live my life—we all can. I can be selfish at something else—not this.
Lower, come on lower, I chanted to myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, throwing my body into the blow to find it still does not want to obey.
The wind howled in my ear. Blinding pain laced my back, reigniting the wound in my shoulder. A hard grip pinned me in place, snapping my wrist nearly in two against the wall. The knife laid on the ground near the bed.
Silas was no longer in the bed. His body was pressed into me, claws digging into my flesh.
Beautifully wild.
The gold flecks of his eyes were gone, replaced by crimson, mouth twisted, baring his fangs. His pink tongue licked my neck in earnest. The flap of hisblouse fluttered freely to see the faint marks still fresh to ooze blood onto the wood floor.
Drip. drip. drip.
“Silas.” I shivered, my throat bobbed. “It’s me, Valeria.”
The red in his eyes intensified with the predator finally taking its place. My heart beat wildly in my chest, adrenaline pulsating through me.
I ducked from under him, sweeping past strong arms for the knife. With the cool blade in hand, I turned to face my assailant.
Silas stalked slowly, his wounds bleeding profusely. “Finally, a sweet, delightful treat to sink my teeth into, and you’re here to help me to sate this incredible thirst. What a considerate Little Dove you are.”
Silas’s chilled words crawled against my skin. The man hours earlier was gone, and what was in his stead was Death Incarnate.
He lunged for me, fingers grazing past. Lunge after lunge, I dodged till the cool stones were against my back, and I was out of places to run. Silas sauntered in close, body tensed as if to restrain himself. His lips hovered briskly over my neck. Sharp nails pinned me in place with his fangs inches from my vein, which pulsated under the tip of the points.
I used all the might I had and pushed us to the floor, bringing the knife to his neck. “Silas, if you don’t snap out of it, I’ll have no choice but to end you before you end me.” I straddled him, pinning his arms with my legs as he snapped at me.
Silas laughed, cruel and distant. “Just a taste. I promise, just a taste.”
