chapter four | blood moon

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rumors and gossip spread like wildfire throughout the province of tuscany and beyond. the san fracis massacre is on everyone's lips and people of the neighboring towns tremble in fear knowing that whatever killed volterra's townspeople is still roaming the italian land. word is, there was a lone survivor, a young woman, out of fifty-three attendees of the easter mass. theories form of what could have possibly transpired that fateful night. speculations run rampant around the events, some saying it was a pack of wild boars, others saying satanic demons.

sympathy is short lived for the girl, for the people have great suspicions of the quiet girl whom hasn't muttered a word about the event. she can hears the whispers,

"she is a vampire!"
"she is a witch!"
"she is the antichrist!"

the doctors and even some of the fellow patients at the clinic would attempt to pry open the brunette's lips of what she saw, but to no avail. she refused to speak a word of it- even to herself. but unfortunately for her, that just draws more suspicions and weariness of her credibility.

however, brewing in the heart of volterra, three acclaimed kings sit on their thrones fumed and outraged over the recent tribulations.

"those wretched fiends! how dare they draw blood at our doorstep?!" caius roars cracking his throne with his stone grip.

"brother, calm yourself," aro assures. "we will track down the atrocity and exterminate them properly for their crimes. we must tread carefully. eyes are everywhere and alert, more so than usual." the blond sneers while aro focuses on demitri, "track down their scent. they probably went northeast through the mountains. finding the survivor will have to wait unit after we clean up the great mess they've so graciously left us."

demitri bows respectfully and flashes away on his hunt. aro sighs turning to the two seated kings, "and here i thought we had a handle on the moon children. word will surely spread. we need to act fast before we look foolish."

caius grins sinisterly, "with great pleasure."

the three deliberate their attack, but aro can't help but think about the survivor. children of the moon lose all sense of rationality and consciousness when possessed. they're uncontrollable- rabid creatures- chaotic in every sense of the word, they do not leave survivors.

he clasps his hands together, curiosity ever so piqued. what happened to their little survivor? she is most likely on the brink of death and if that is the case, well, she's history anyway. but what if there's something more?

the reports are too vague. lumberyard crewmen found the girl unconscious and province police took her in a hospice clinic in san gimignano. he tightens his grip, their borders aren't as tight as he thought they were. they let a moon child slip through the cracks and now they have a historic massacre at their feet.

aro tunes to caius' raged rambles, he'll have that fixed before night falls.

meanwhile, aris lays uncomfortably on her bed, her nose stuffed in her bible. a longing sigh escapes her dry chapped lips as she sets the book aside. she shuffles to the window, peering out with a solemn gaze. she sees herself in the reflection and flashes of blood stab her focus. did that all really happen?

she leans her hands on the cold glass observing the cows in the pasture grazing in the field. south of here is volterra, it's not too far away. the thought of escaping has entered her mind more times than she'd care to admit. she didn't want to be here. she wanted to go home. she wants to see momma or marianna to prove she just had a manic episode and didn't really watch them die.

her eyes close resting her forehead against the glass, "denial won't make it any easier." that's what her doctor had said and the longer she's here, the more right he becomes. she wants to go home, but who will there?

no one.

she leans off the window and climbs back into her bed staring at the bible lying by her side. instinctively, aris reaches for her necklace and twirls it around. her eyes stay trained to the dried blood-soaked pages. her fingers twitch, "come to terms with what happened."

her jaw clenches tightly and her heart races.

she turns her head towards the commotion and two furry beasts bigger than anything she's ever seen before breaks in the church growling- snatching people in their teeth left and right. blood and screams fill the holy sanctuary. she looks at momma-

her eyes shut tightly. she doesn't want to come to terms with that.

she glances back out the window, twilight has enveloped the grassy meadow. she bites at her lip and covers herself in the thin wool blanket. mindlessly, she stares up at the wooden ceiling. she was so stirred up over leonardo and his proposal- her lips quiver. she never would have thought death was lurking in the shadows. she never would have thought that that was the last time she'd ever see those people ever again. leonardo's proposal seems so insignificant now.

she closes her eyes again, listening to the cricket's chirp and owls hoot with the occasional moo. the silence was loud, uncomfortably so. the soft thuds of her fingers hitting her hand thump like a drum. her heart races to a painful beat. she gnaws on her lip and her eyes snap open and face the window again.

she whispers, "dear lord, what shall i do?"

not too soon later the girl finds herself with shards of glass stuck in her feet as she runs down the dark dirt path. she runs south clutching her bloodied bible tightly. she stumbles and tears roll down her cheeks, her feet burning with each step.

it doesn't matter. the pain isn't real, just as the mauling was real. she's going home and momma will be there. marianna will be there smiling, fluttering her lashes at giovanni. leonardo and his family are in celina sipping on their fancy wines.

she gasps for air as she sprints, she'll be home soon. tears well thick in her weary eyes, so much so, she trips and falls. she lies there heaving and wailing.

her shaky hands grip her bible, please, she begs. please, please, please.

please let it be a nightmare. please let them be alive, well, and happy. please let her wake. please bring her mercy. she bawls in agony, curling to the dirt. the screams of the townfolk deafen her cries, the darkness of her shut tight eyes cover in scarlet. she pleads through her burning tears, please! please, please! make it stop!

aro unwraps demitri's letter, "northeast central apennines mountains, trailing up to florence." the king jumps enthusiastically, "wonderful! brothers, are you ready for a road trip?"

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