The Unholy Bride: In God's Name, I Kill

Chapter 28: Saved?

I watched as my wife was thrown backward, crashing into the table behind her when I threw a block in the stomach. She coughed and groaned, trying to get a grasp of what just happened. When she saw me stand up from the chair she tied me up to, panic danced in her eyes. She swiftly tried to recover, scooting and crawling away from me, but it was pointless once I seized her ankles. I pulled her toward me, her screams filling the air as she fought to break free.

She twisted suddenly, catching me off guard and sending me tumbling onto her. A loud thud rang out as I landed hard, almost crushing her ribcage. The impact nearly killed her, but she was driven by a fierce motivation to take me down—delivering a powerful punch to my face.

"Shit," I groaned, rolling onto my side and clutching my bleeding, busted lip. Damn, I had no idea she could hit that hard.

I got to my feet, letting her take the opportunity to run. It wouldn't matter—she wouldn't get far. I'd find her down no matter where she tried to hide.

The hem of her long habit swept the floor as she bolted, her thoughts likely racing as adrenaline surged through her veins. And damn it, even in a moment like this, I couldn't stop myself from noticing how ethereal she looked, like the impossible offspring of an angel and a fairy.

I pressed the back of my hand on my lip, wincing. Damn, I had no idea she could hit that hard. It was.... oddly thrilling and hot . I chuckled to myself, finding my thoughts hilarious.

Staking toward my gun, I crouched down to grab it off the floor. My wife was fucking stunning, no doubt, but damn, she could be a real pain in the ass.

"Mary, honey?" I called softly, my eyes scanning this eerie place. A shiver crawled down my spine, the cringe almost like an electric shock. Churches always creeped me out more than cemeteries or haunted houses ever could. That was why it always amazed me whenever I thought back to the times I used to visit this very church, just to see Mary.

My effort was immaculate. There was no comparison—so how could she deceive me like this? How could she see me as evil? I truly love her. Maybe not as much as I loved Thia, but I still love her. Wasn't it enough?

My head throbbed, forcing me to stop in my tracks to keep from collapsing. The ringing in my ears returned, louder and more piercing than before. It felt like it was drilling into my skull, making my veins pulse and my vision blur as my breathing grew quicker and more erratic.

"N-No," I muttered to myself, shaking my head as I tried to laugh off the throbbing pain in my head.

I was fifteen the last time it attacked. That felt like ages ago, so there was no way it would happen again. No... those nightmares had left me long ago. They weren't coming back... not now, not today... not ever.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, so I quickly shut them tight in desperation to block it all out while shaking my head over and over. Darkness engulfed me as soon as I closed my eyes, but it didn't last long as images began to flash before them.

"Don't be scared, Roman. Always remember that mommy loves you, okay?"

My chest twisted when I heard my mother's voice in this dark dungeon where I had been thrown by these attacking memories. My mother was kneeling on the cold rough floor, her head resting on the surface of the guillotine in front of her, with my father and a woman named Beatrice beside her. She was scared and trembling, but she smiled, trying not to frighten me and make it seem like everything was okay.

On the dark corner, I saw my young self. I was crying and begging everyone in the room with me to spare my mother.

"I love you and your sister so much. I'm doing this for the both of you."