Loyal to Master's Command (A True Blood Eric Northman Fanfiction)

XXXVII - резня

Translation -  massacre

The stake was carefully chiseled. There were no splinters seeping from the edges, and the wood's color didn't fade as it reached the pointed edge. Its tip could easily cut a fresh wound on the toughest of skin. It's clear it was freshly carved, as if its maker anticipated the victim of its work. 

Stan's grip didn't falter no matter what he held, whether it be a neck or a stake. His strength would be strong enough to pop a skull without any effort. So, as the stake was being plunged at a speed resembling sound waves, droplets of Stan's blood were being spewed out as if he was afraid of accidentally releasing the weapon from nervousness, he had to be certain it would reach its destination. 

Katya's eyes were stuck on Stan's disheveled hand. She didn't know why she recognized how untidy he kept himself. She even noticed how he was stained with fresh blood. She wondered how many humans he had before kicking down the door with his brood. Her eyes also caught the droplets flying from his bloody hand as he aimed for Godric's heart, they somehow landed on her cheek, they spewed so far from the scene it must've been from how fast he went, she figured as much. 

It all happened so fast, Katya didn't have time to react, it's not that she couldn't react, it's that she didn't know how to. As Godric's blood and innards went flying at everyone as a result of the true death, with Katya taking the brunt of the explosion, she still remained lifeless on the ground. Eyes and mouth wide open, with every limb and joint frozen from shock. It was like a wave of energy down her spine. It paralyzed every portion of her body, including her mind. 

All she could think of was the miniscule details of Stan's dirty appearance, a bird that flew by in the night sky, the sun rising in the background, and the stars beginning to go to sleep. She estimated the time, 6:30am? No, it couldn't be. 

As Godric's body exploded into a puddle of over 2000 years of vampirism and a few human years, his last action on this Earth was to paint Katya's entire body red. Everything but her eyes were the same color, red. Red. Red. Red. She could taste his blood that flew into her mouth and the fear that arrogated it in his last moments. 

Just the sheer taste of it caused her to awaken from her sudden dream, the shock that encapsulated her turned into a cacophony of rage, sadness, fear, and pain, she didn't even have time to look at what state Eric and the others were in. Were they sad? It's all this venture was, sadness. Was it even worth it to go in the first place? 

Every which way Katya had turned was a slow and groggy movement, she was fighting herself to finally wake up, but as Katya looked back at Godric's remnants, the realization of the moment had finally sunk in. Godric, her lifelong partner, her maker, her brother, her father, her lover. 

Was dead. 

Godric's blood was enough for her to gain the strength of a thousand vampires, as the rage and pure shock of his sudden death brought her mind into a realm of vengeance. The splurge of emotions that had finally seeped into her mind began to leak into her appearance. Her hairline was plagued by a milky white until it finally reached the tips of her long, or what was, brown hair. No longer was it a deep chocolate brown, but a pale white that resembled that of a plain sheet of paper, an effect that was caused by the moment she fearfully set eyes on what she could finally name as, Godric's remains. 

She could feel her body garnering the strength of the witches by force and her mind beginning to throw every moral aspect of her character away. Thousands of years of garnering her strength and nurturing a heart of empathy was now a foreign dream, but unfortunately, all of her emotions were pent up in the bottle that was her vessel, which remained being cooked alive by the burns of the silver chains still tightly wrapped around her body.