Prologue. Herald of Death

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There is dead silence all around. Only the heavy breathing of the two male bodyguards hangs in the air, straining the already frightened girl. The tinted windows of the armored car hide the fully unexplored, but terrifying to the young mind, consequences of a trip over the line. A line that fenced off the likes of her from Hell. But now the young person was gripped by terror. Not breathing, not speaking, not moving - as if she were undead. Her golden locks of hair scattered haphazardly over her pale face like a white sheet of paper, but she noticed nothing around her. Nothing but the windshield, the only conduit to the outside world. Her heart stopped, after every glare of lights that came into her field of vision. The people in the car were waiting for a miracle that seemed to be lost in this dark forest. Waiting is tedious and murderous when your fate is being decided at the moment of your inaction.

- Ms. Felt, we need to leave, - the man's rough, sandpaper-like voice had no effect on the teenager. - Miss?

A flame of light gleamed in the faded green eyes. Lanterns. A thin hand reached for the doorknob. As fast as she could, the girl ran out of the car. Lights burned not only on the visible horizon, lights of hope lit up in her heart. She ran in a rush to meet her father's men, going over snippets of familiar prayers in her head. Asking God for help was her only right.

- Ms. Felt! - the bodyguard grabbed his ward's arm, stopping her. He wouldn't let her take a step closer. Men were best at recognizing danger. Except that in her childish, innocent mind, it didn't add up which corner of Satan's kingdom she had fallen into. She didn't understand who on this earth was the messenger of the Lord of Hell. Who was the bringer of death to their kind today, on this earth?

Her mind could not visualize what was happening. Such pictures could not have been drawn out in a maiden's mind. Not fully realizing in what world she was born and lived, she condemned her purity to cruel, cruel destruction. Ignorance did not protect, but made her think she was blind.

She found familiar faces with her gaze. Her father's right hand and several bodyguards. Maintaining their status boundaries, they followed their leader, the younger Boss. The man had never before appeared like this in front of the girl. All covered in blood. Everyone was covered in blood. Everything was covered in blood. The scarlet liquid soaked the clothes, dried on the skin. It felt like even the air was different. Had taken on the scent of death. The faces of those walking toward the car were distorted with a grim, stunned look.

Mister pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket and slowly, as if in slow motion, raised it in front of everyone's eyes. The bloody silk doubled in the puzzled eyes. She felt her head spinning and her heart aching, her soul breaking and the urge to scream, choking back tears. Realizing what was happening was filled with doom. Such a gesture meant only one thing: death.

- Who? - Whispers the girl, looking at the bodyguards nearby with glassy eyes. Tears did not wait for the command to start spreading hot streams on the velvet skin. Her soul clenched because she knew - a terrible thing had happened. The man's palms sympathetically rested on the fragile shoulders in a protective touch. - Who...?

- I'm so sorry, Miss...

The silence ended. The gunshots deafened everyone around them. There was a gunfight, not in the distance, but very close. There was a spirit of suffering and pain. The number of shots could be confused with the war that had begun. Now she did not understand and did not perceive anything. Nearby bullets flew, only those made her flinch and return to reality. Undoubtedly, this reality was not a desirable one. It was hateful.

They tried to get her into the car before those whose essence many terrible things had been said about her. But the loyal soldiers of their Boss were unable to protect her from the inevitable. There was no more strength left. They had dried up, just like the gentle peacefulness in the young lady's heart.

- Who do we have here? - Someone lifted the frightened girl's face, forcing her to look up. A dark haired man of Italian appearance was looking at her with deep blue eyes. Harsh and menacing. He was extracting the blonde's soul just by looking into her being. A feeling of dread tightened everything inside. Death seemed to have come into her life today. Sooner than she would have wanted it to. - Camilla Felt.

- Let me go! - she wrenched herself out of the hands of the two huge men holding her by her arms, wrapped behind her back, in front of their boss. - Let me go!

- Shut up, - his voice became several times rougher. - You think you're in a fairy tale and your daddy's going to save you now? It doesn't work that way, little girl.

- My daddy's gonna skin you. - it was the moment she showed the courage her father had taught her, but it wasn't enough. The threat thrown out had no positive meaning. This man was ready to introduce her to death. He had the power to do so. Who even knew what he was capable of? Perhaps death, in his opinion, was too easy a fate?

- How brave we are, - Shark grins and nasty laughter as the sound of a passing gravel truck sent those around her in her direction. - Your bastard daddy is dead. And your mother is dead.

The ground went out from under her feet. The shaken soul was more fragile than crystal. It shattered now - one phrase was more than enough. The world around him began to blur. Nothing made sense anymore. There was no screaming, no sobbing or pleas to stop her agony. The tears dried up along with her faith in the world.

Can one put into words the pain felt by someone who has lost those closest to them? Disbelief, denial, bitterness. How many different thoughts go through the mind of someone who has heard the fragment of the phrase "...died"?

She didn't have time to step away from the wounding words before a sliding knife was swung in front of her eyes. The sharp blade gleamed in the light of car headlights and streetlights. Now the people surrounding her and the soldiers swearing allegiance to her were even more frightening. Except it was no longer about death. What she'd heard had killed all perception of the present.

- How long do you think it will take me to torture your mind? How long before you stop wanting to live? - A man's rough hand touches the neck of the girl trembling with fear. She is scared and disgusted. But the worst feeling is in the soul. It drowns out everything else. It acts on her like a tranquilizer - drowns out everything around her. Her parents, her last loved ones, are dead. She's all alone.

It all started with a red handkerchief, the messenger of death.

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⏰ Last updated: Sep 14 ⏰

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