Noa Stroud sent you a friend request. I rolled my eyes upon reading the notification and closed my laptop before I lay on the bed, thinking about what happened three nights ago in the kitchen. It took me a lot of courage and self-disrespect to utter the words I said that night just to make Roman stop dishonoring me, but it was all worth it because that moment unveiled something I didn't expect for him to have over me-a soft spot. The corner of my lips twitched into a smirk, and though I tried to suppress it by biting it back, I couldn't. The thought of it filled me with a flicker of hope that grew stronger in my chest.
After all of the years I spent harvesting something I can use against him, it finally paid off. I earned a soft spot in his cold heart, which means I can drown him deeper because the more emotions he has for me, the more pain he'd feel.
"Run! Run! Judah run! No! No!" I was pulled away from my thoughts when I heard Scarlette shouting as chased her cat, running past the unlocked door of my bedroom.
Getting up from the bed, I went out to follow where she was headed, but all I saw was her tiny shadow turning toward the west wing of the mansion. It was already 10 p.m., but she was awake because Catherine wasn't here to tuck her in to sleep, and the same for my husband, who needed to stay late at the company.
The mansion was so old and some of the lights were already out of order, so I struggled to see as the moonlight was my only source of light for tonight. I looked around to search for Scarlette, but she was nowhere to be found, so I began to call her name loudly, hoping that she'd respond. But instead of the little girl, I found someone else-Mason stood at the corner of the porch, a cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke curling up into the night air.
I was expecting him to greet me just like he always does, but all he did as I walked in front of him was to trail every single step I took with his unreadable eyes while puffing on his cigarette.
Looking over my shoulder to take one last glance at him, my brows furrowed. What's wrong with him? He was weird, but I just chose to ignore it because I needed to find Scarlette. I was scared that something bad might happen to her, especially that it was already dark and there were a lot of wild animals here. That little girl didn't know how to defend herself.
"Scarlette?" I called loudly, wandering my eyes around the forest. I called her name repeatedly while walking around, each of my steps creating crisps from the withered leaves on the ground. I was already a little far from the mansion and I could hear wild animals hissing at me, so I made each of my movements careful to not provoke them. But I guess I was really unlucky because a hyena jumped in front of me, its fangs exposed as it grinned at me.
"Go away!" I shouted at it, motioning my hands in front to shoo the animal, but it provoked it even more. The animal advanced toward me, so I backed away and hurled a stick at it. It hit his face, and the second I knew, I was already running away to save my dear life.
I was trying my best not to make loud noises because it'd just worsen my panic, but I couldn't help because the hyena was so fucking fast.
"Leave me alone, you-AAHH!" My scream was cut short as my foot landed on a sharp, rusted shard of steel. The pain shot through me, and before I could regain my balance, I was tumbling forward, my body crashing into the dark abyss below.
I groaned and curled up into a fetus position from the pain of falling from a high place. I waited for the pain to subside before I slowly opened my eyes, just to be greeted by plain darkness, overwhelmed by a foul smell like something was rotting.
Coughing, I groped my hands on the dirty wet floor to search for my phone to use as a flashlight, then I lifted it up to brighten up this unfamiliar place.
"Holy fuck!" I shrieked and crawled away from the image before me-a decapitated head of a woman. My stomach twisted and I could feel my dinner making an appearance, so I covered my mouth, but it didn't help when I turned to look at the thing that hit my back. I vomited on the floor because across the decapitated head was the body it was once attached to, a body of a woman. My stomach was already empty from throwing up everything I ate, but I still felt like my stomach was turning.
I couldn't stop shaking, but I forced my knees to stand up and get closer to the woman's decapitated head, just to discover more heads and bodies wearing wedding dresses lined up across each other on both sides of the long hall of this place.
"What the hell is this place? Who are these people?" I whispered to myself as I made my way slowly to the first head I saw. I leaned my face to look closer, my fear now replaced with curiosity, then I halted as my eyes landed on the small note below the head.
Camila Steel
1976-2006
"Oh my god." I covered my mouth and took a step back because this woman was Roman and Catherine's mother.
Catherine lied to me... their mother didn't die from a boat accident because her body was here, along with these people, or should I say women? I approached the second head and read the note below it, next to the third head, then to the fourth, fifth, until to the 8th, which was the last one and placed at the end of the hall.
Amelia Steel
1966-1996
Lucia Steel
1951-1981
Amara Steel
1914-1944
Elena Steel
1889-1919
Nadia Steel
1769-1799
Merielle Steel
1747-1777
Ophelia Steel
1723-1753
I inhaled the foul air, my mind racing as the numbers on the card seemed to weave together in my thoughts. Then, it hit me, and I muttered a curse under my breath. These women were from the 1st to 8th generation of the Steel clan, all of them dying at the age of 30. I, the woman of the 9th generation, would be turning 30 next year. The pieces fell into place-if history held true, I would die on my birthday.
My hand trembled and before I knew it, a 911 call was already on-going on my phone.
"Hello, ma'am?" the operator said, but I didn't speak because my attention was still on the bodies in front of me.
Sure these women didn't die naturally or by accident because in their hand, a cross was held. On their wedding dresses, a demonic prayer was written with their own blood.
They were a sacrifice.
"Mam, if you won't respond, I'll have to end the call," the operator spoke again, but I ignored her for the second time because I was debating my decision.
If I reported this to the authorities, Roman and his family would be in jail, but not long enough because it was their ancestors who were responsible for these crimes, unless they were complicit in the murder of their own mother. All of these murders were committed more than ten years ago, which means it might not be convictable, especially that the committers were already long gone.
I bit my lip and ended the 911 call, then I stared at the women of the 1st to 8th generation with determination blazing in my eyes, illuminating this dark hell of a place with a promise in my heart-a vow to avenge them, and every woman who had suffered this cruelty.
YOU ARE READING
The Unholy Bride: In God's Name, I Kill
Mystery / ThrillerMary Holloway, a nun who abandoned the church to marry her perpetrator and take revenge. But along the way, she was caught in a twisted game of charades, with clues she couldn't piece together all at once. This game of what she thought was just rev...
