The Devil In Disguise

The Loss Of A Brother

      The room spun around her, closing in as a thick, choking silence settled after the scream. Gianina's voice had cut through the air like a blade, but now, it seemed every sound in her world had vanished. All she could see was Rufus slumped before her, his eyes wide and still, blood darkening his clothes, staining the floor. Her vision blurred, yet the crimson pooled at her feet felt seared into her mind, an image that would haunt her forever.

Gianina was vaguely aware of Cal behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her to hold her in place. His grip was firm, almost possessive, but there was a tension there, an unease that spoke to his own conflicted feelings. She could feel him tremble slightly as if some part of him, some hidden sliver of humanity, regretted what he had just witnessed. Yet he remained, anchoring her in place, unable or unwilling to let her go. She struggled against his arms, her movements wild and frantic, but his hold only tightened.

"Rufus..." she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. Tears poured down her face, hot and fast, blurring her vision even more, but she forced herself to look, to take in the horrifying reality before her. His face, once so full of life and laughter, was now empty, his expression frozen in a final, tragic farewell. She could still hear his last words, echoing in her mind: "I'm sorry I couldn't save you... I love you GG."

Gianina's chest tightened, and she felt as though she were suffocating, every breath a struggle. Her mind raced, searching for any reason, any sense of why this was happening, but there was nothing—just an endless, terrifying emptiness. How had everything spiraled so far out of control? Rufus had been there since the beginning, through every twisted moment, and now... now he was gone.

Cal's arms shifted around her, holding her with a strange, quiet intensity. She could feel the remorse in his touch, something that softened the harshness of his grip, as if he, too, were wrestling with the weight of what they'd just witnessed.

"Cal..." she whispered, her voice cracking as she felt the overwhelming need to confront him, to demand answers. "Why... how...?" But her words failed her, her throat closing as fresh sobs wracked her frame.

But Cal said nothing, his jaw tight, his face a mixture of anger, regret, and something darker, something she couldn't quite read. He avoided her gaze, his hold faltering just for a moment before he steeled himself, his resolve hardening.

In that instant, Gianina's mind drifted to Mary, the only friend she had left. Mary, who was safely away, blissfully unaware of the horrors unfolding here. A bitter pang of jealousy and relief filled her heart—jealousy that Mary was far from the darkness, relief that she wouldn't have to suffer this pain. But Mary's laughter, her light, her love, were things Gianina couldn't afford to lose, not now. It was strange to realize that, in some twisted way, she'd been protecting Mary all along, hoping she'd be the one friend untouched by the nightmare that had swallowed the rest of them whole.

Rufus had been her anchor, her friend since childhood, the one who had made her laugh when things got too heavy. She understood him more now. The kept secret of being a orphan out of embarrassment. His understanding of her when she lost her parents. His protectiveness of her, it all made sense. Now he was gone. She was drifting, unmoored, trapped in a world that had become a grotesque reflection of what she once knew. She couldn't help but picture Mary's reaction when she learned what had happened here, the heartbreak she'd feel knowing her new boyfriend's life had been brutally stolen as well.

Gianina's body went limp in Cal's grip, her strength gone as she succumbed to the depths of her despair. She felt like a ghost, hovering just outside her body, watching everything unfold as if it were happening to someone else. Her mind screamed at her to fight, to scream, to do something—but she was frozen, locked in the grip of her own grief.