Chapter 13: I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 13

Ivor trembled. He had the balls to try to kill someone just on suspicion, but now that his daddy had come, he lowered his head and shrank into himself. How funny, the little son of a bitch.

"Father," he said, he licked his lips.

"When someone asks a question, it's because they want an answer. That doesn't answer anything, Ivor."

He couldn't care less about Jaiden, who was lying very close by. He didn't even look at him out of the corner of his eye. It's not that all the adults had left the mansion, he imagined that Jaiden's mother wasn't among the crowd, because absolutely no one came to him.

He wiped the blood from his mouth by passing a hand over it, above all to hide his smile, the blood didn't bother him. Quite the contrary. He liked its feeling on the skin. At least now that it was still warm. That was a little strange, even for him. He supposed he wasn't immune to having demon blood running through his veins. Or maybe that had nothing to do with it and in his past life he simply hadn't been in a position to discover this taste for blood.

Anyway, nothing would change in any case. He would never back down.

That effect, if it existed, was nothing more than an extra push.

"Father, Jaiden is dying," said Christina. Christina, and not Ivor, his supposed friend.

"And he will, daughter. There's no magic that can save him. It was a precise stab. I can't call anyone in time to save him."

The girl fell silent.

He felt sorry for Christina in a way. He didn't dislike her and she was a precious little thing that he hoped to possess at the end of this, but come on, he didn't regret it either. He was actually doing her a favor. It was about time she started getting used to bloodshed.

Her future would be covered in blood, after all.

People began to whisper. He couldn't hear anything specific (he wasn't concentrating, his ears were still ringing), but it wasn't difficult to assume. How many of them justified Lord Wright's coldness, how many, instead, criticized it as inhuman?

He couldn't know.

And how many of the latter really cared about Jaiden, instead of using him as an excuse for opinions they had held for a long time?

He could be sure they didn't exist.

"Ivor, I asked you a question."

"Father, I..."

The brat's plea, who was on his knees and still struggling to breathe, meant shit to Lord Wright, as it should be. It would be a disappointment to share blood with a sentimental idiot. Although, of course, it wasn't in his interest for him to be too smart either.

"Enough. You spilled the blood of someone from your own family. You're not a Wright and I'm not your father."

Oh, very good, very good. Everything was turning out even better than he had planned. He could clearly see that this statement was the last nail in the coffin of his sanity. It was funny that he would say it, but for a few seconds Ivor's face didn't even look like that of a human being.

"Your favorite killed Evelyn."

Lord Wright crossed his hands behind his back.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Proof?" But he wasn't going to deny that Sam, the other Sam, was his favorite, huh? Interesting. He was always looking for things he could take advantage of in the future. Grip points to tear down this paper mansion and reign over the ashes and flames.

"He confessed it to me himself! And he enjoyed it."

The murder, or whispering it in his ear, out of Christina and Jaiden's reach?

Well, both things were true. Hahaha!

Lord Wright turned his head to look at him. He would simply call him by his name if he knew what the hell it was.

"Did you kill her, Samuel?"

"No, sir," he replied, trying to sound offended.

"Sir? It's not you I've found slashing a brother. You're not the one in trouble. Call me father." Nice words, except for the part where there wasn't a hint of family warmth in his tone, although it's not that Sam wanted any. He already had a father to begin with.

Well, because of that dead tone and because that brat still hadn't finished dying. His gurgles could be heard as he died miserably, choking on his own blood.

And he didn't even have time to stop and enjoy it due to the situation. Pity.

"Yes, father."

Anyway, he didn't like it, but he had to play along. Just like with Satan, whom he would probably end up stabbing when all this was over. If he were in his place, he wouldn't give up the throne of hell so easily, that's for sure. Common sense.

"But, fa..." Ivor bit his tongue. "What else was I supposed to say to him?"

You could tell he was just a brat. Sam understood the point of what that guy had done right away. It wasn't hard to understand. For someone with half a brain, that is. But right now Ivor must be seeing double.

"It has as much merit as your unfounded accusations," said Lord Wright. "Except that you've acted like a madman, stabbing Jaiden, right? What fault did he have in anything?"

Ivor opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water. His hands were shaking. For a moment he thought he was going to attack. For which nothing would happen, of course. He highly doubted that the brat would manage to reach him even with a surprise attack, much less rob him of the pleasure of, undoubtedly, killing that young master with his own hands.

"None, but he got in my way and I... I, until it was too late..."

Jaiden exhales his last breath.

He thought he had emptied Ivor, but he was wrong. He saw the last shreds of his being disappear at that very moment. His eyes became glassy, his arms fell languidly to the floor. There was no strength left in his body. Not even a spark.

The cutting and burning ice of hell had taken everything.

"Sir..." said Ivor, without even looking at the man who had been his father.

He didn't finish the sentence. He wouldn't have finished it even if they had given him several hours to do so. He had ceased to be a human being...

"Are you still trying to justify yourself? Maybe there's no fixing you."

"Sir!"

But even an animal was afraid to die.

"You won't be my problem anymore. Guards!"

The guards made their way through the crowd, approaching. So they had been there all along, they just hadn't bothered to do anything until now, when they were given an explicit order. Which was worse.

"Take him to his room and leave him locked up," ordered the lord. "It will take me time to find him some sanatorium."

Oh, so they did have holes to bury the insane alive. They had started then, in the Middle Ages, so one could say it was to be expected. It was also expected to shit in a shithole, literally, and then throw it out the window, but when he first felt the urge to shit he had discovered that they had indoor plumbing.

It was a different world, period. He couldn't assume much.

Lord Wright turned around and shook his head, exasperated with this whole situation. If he knew the truth, he wouldn't have dared to turn his back on him for even a second. Satan has his own plans, he thought, but I imagine you'll be the last to fall. The cherry on top.

"Bring the other boy inside, prepare him for the funeral. And have someone heal Samuel. We can't let his face get ruined."

Sam got up slowly, with Christina's help. She still couldn't take her eyes off the corpse. He supposed it was a natural reaction, but he would like her to get over it already. What's past is past, right?

Anyway, yes, his precious face was very important. They'd better hope the wound didn't leave a scar. He would massacre them and make sure they suffered in all sorts of ways before dying anyway, but...

Well, actually there was no but.

The guards took Ivor away. He was defeated, resigned. He could easily use magic to escape the guards' grip, he supposed, but he wouldn't get very far anyway. He watched him as he walked away. As he was about to disappear into the mansion, as most of the adults had done now that Lord Wright had passed sentence and the show was over.

Moving his lips, he said to him: I win.

And he smiled with blood-stained lips.

But it wasn't a complete victory, not yet. He had defied Satan's orders once and didn't feel like pushing his luck twice in a row. He had destroyed Ivor, but that wasn't enough. He had to kill him before he escaped his reach.

Despite the fact that, at this point, it would be a merciful act, uncharacteristic of him.

I Am The God of Hellfire, Part 13: END