The Servant Of Chaos (WIP-New Part Every Monday/Friday)

Chapter IV | Part 1

Policemen in blue coats entered the building in a rush, quickly attending the hurt people they could find. Sadly, the wolf had been savage enough that most of its victims didn't make it long enough to see the police arrive.

Caleb watched Synthia from a distance. She had gone to the foot of the staircase and sat there, putting her face in her hands. Now, she was grimly staring at the men and women sprawled lifeless on the marble floor.

He, for instance, had left Synthia there and headed to one of the wooden columns, laying his shoulder against it. Unanswerable questions roamed and multiplied in his head while he could barely keep track of his train of thought.

The police had briefly searched under the broken statue's wreck but found no trace of the giant wolf that had been buried under it. He had frowned at the missing creature but decided that telling the police would be useless and stupid.

The ballroom was now populated by people of high standards, probably the owners and sponsors of the ball, who were being questioned by the uniformed men. At their feet lay dozens of bodies, the victims of the merciless beast.

That's when men dressed in black suits and elegant hats entered the building, carrying a legless table with them. The morgue's men, which Caleb recognized from the newspaper, started to carry bodies, put them on the table and carry them out to a solemn black carriage.

He watched them do it, stranged by the feeling of impotence.

Synthia gasped loudly and Caleb's head quickly spun toward her. He watched as she stood up, putting a hand to her mouth and the other one against her chest. He ran at her, but he wasn't fast enough to catch her. Her legs wobbled and bent, her knees failing her. A muffled scream came out of her mouth as she widened her eyes and contorted her face in denial.

Caleb followed her horrified gaze. She was looking at two of the morgue's men, picking up one of the bodies from the ground. It was a young girl, just like her. She had blonde hair and a voluptuous, almost neon green dress, covered in patches of dark blood. Her head turned to face him as they set her on the table, and he winced at seeing her green eyes open. One of the men passed their fingers over her eyelids and closed them, condemning her as gone from this world.

It was Jazmine.

Caleb ran toward Synthia and knelt before her, grasping her shoulders and anchoring her to reality, watching as the once strong and determined aura cracked and broke down.

She sobbed and whimpered, shaking almost uncontrollably. She let her head fall and gave into Caleb's arms, letting his weight on him.

    Synthia's ragged dress fluttered in the cold wind while she and Caleb walked away from the Fenris Manor.

There was a park about three blocks down from the mansion, so they held hands, ducked their heads low, and walked absentmindedly until they felt they were alone.

Once they were sheltered under the trees' shadow, Caleb spoke.

"We need to talk," he said, watching Synthia worriedly.

"No shit, Sherlock." She huffed and looked at the ground.

"What was that in there?" Caleb asked, "How in hell was there a wolf at the manor?"

"The question is where the wolf's body went," Synthia added, avoiding Caleb's eyes. "And how was that girl, the brunette, connected to it all?"

"You said she wore the wolf's eyes."

"You're not thinking that–"

"I don't know what I'm thinking, Synthia. How'd you get that whip anyways?"