The Wailing Woman

62. Corazón, Corazón

TRANSLATION: Heart, Heart  TW: Violence, blood, gore, and swearing.

The stench of burning corpses was invading my nostrils, my eyes stinging as I saw charred flesh slipping off bone. I drew my hands out mimicking the same spell of wind as I saw a previous warlock do. The flames lowered gently but not enough I could still be burned. I gathered my tattered and soaked dress and jumped over the line of fire. My ankle slightly twisting, another pang.

I released a shaky breath and pulled myself together as I limped down the corridor until I heard a certain rat talking.

"Whatever House you belong to, I'll personally destroy it. I'll wipe your entire bloodline as we did with the De Luna family!" Richard Mondt fumed.

Este no se me va vivo. (This one doesn't leave alive.)

The last remaining followers of the Mondt's were trapped in this highly decorated ballroom, the same room where Grimm couldn't decide what sweet to eat. Except now, he was grasping a warlock by the neck and looked unfazed by his disgruntled chokes. Grimm held a bored expression as his gaze was set on Richard's bleeding face. "Raven, what a perfect time for you to join us." He then snaps the warlock's neck and drops his limp body to the ground. He leaves his eyes open, glassy and panicked. "My hand was getting tired." Death said, as his crimson lips lazily curved upwards.

He soothes his wrist.

The Mondt's took a step back, holding onto each other. A witch stepped forward ready to attack, but a fellow warlock grabbed her arm before she could summon anything. She struggles against his hold as she meets Death's gaze. "Why do you support the Del Luna family? What is she to you? What are you? Her whore?" She spits out.

Death released a hollowed laugh. "I prefer 'lover' but I'll be anything she wants me to be. Her whore. Her fool." He draws his scythe once more, the shadows encircling around him. "Her executioner." His eyes are grim and menacing.

Her nostrils flare, and she shoves her friend sprinting toward me with open arms. Everyone quickly follows after her. I took three strides, muttering to Grimm before he did anything. "No more heads." And I scream my unforgivable wrath. 

I won't stop until I see them lower their hands as they hopelessly press them against their ears. I won't stop until I see their bodies bending and their knees collapse to the ground. I don't stop as I see them trembling as if it were a winter night and their ears burst. Oh, to be the last thing they'll ever hear. What a gift. What a curse. Blood runs thick down the slope of their ears.

I then stop, and short and rapid breaths come out. The spirits murmur as if their lips brush my hair, kill or be killed. They say it like a mantra. I press my hand over my chest. I inhaled sharply, then slowly exhaled. Reality set in again. Pieces of shattered glass surround the entire room with a few fluttering light bulbs and a tilting chandelier. I couldn't miss the six dead witches and warlocks lying on the floor.

My gaze drifted to Grimm as he flicked a shard of glass off his shoulder. "They're alive, just as you asked." I frowned as the sudden sound of crunching glass caught my attention. I turned to the noise seeing Richard and Marlene Mondt were crawling still trying to escape. How?

But I didn't have time to ask my question. I walked over to a near-fallen curtain and pulled out the metal rod. I marched over to them with Grimm walking closely behind. "Get Mrs. Mondt," I said, as I got closer, raising the metal rod over Richard's balding head. He turns his eyes stricken with horror. "Wait, please—" I struck him with the metal rod. Marlene sobs as she tries to reach for him but Grimm places the end of his scythe on top of her ankle, something pops and she yelps.