Overwhelmed by a tumult of emotions, Amara’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped closer to her friend. Her initial movements were hesitant, almost uncertain, as if she feared the reality of what she might find; yet, as the urgency of the situation pushed her, she found determination, propelling her across the room, her feet carrying her swiftly.
With a sense of urgency driving her, Amara reached her friend’s side and hastily drew her knife. With a trembling hand, she began to cut through the bonds that held her friend captive. Starting with her feet, Amara worked quickly, desperation and fear clouding her mind. Each slice of the blade was a painful reminder of the uncertainty of her unconscious friend’s condition, unsure if she was still alive. She dreaded the moment when she would have to face the truth, fearing what she might find beyond her friend’s closed eyes.
After freeing Layla from her restraints, Amara gently lowered her friend to the floor with trembling hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with cold sweat on her brow as her heart pounded in her chest. “P-Please, Layla…” she muttered, her voice wavered with emotion, barely audible amidst the turmoil in her mind. “Please, don’t leave me… Please, be alive,” she whispered, her words choked with tears and anguish. With a shaky breath, she struggled to voice her deepest fear, biting on her lip until it drew blood. “Don’t… don’t die,” she pleaded softly, her voice crackling with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of her desperation and fear.
“M-Mara, is that you?” Layla asked, her voice trembling weakly as she struggled to open her eyes. Through the haze of pain, she tried to focus on her friend’s face. “Am I in paradise right now?” she inquired, a feeble chuckle escaping her lips from disbelief, groaning suddenly in pain. “If I am, then I’m glad the first face I see is Mara’s,” she continued, managing a faint smile despite her battered state.
With hope appearing in her weary eyes, Amara smiled warmly, gently caressing her best friend’s face. “You’re not in paradise, silly. Look, I’m really here,” she responded softly, her voice quivering with emotion. As tears of happiness and relief poured down her cheeks, she was grateful that her friend still drew breath. “I’m here to take you home.”
Layla simply smiled at her words, reaching out to Amara’s face and gently wiping her tears away. “Mara, I’m very happy to see you one last time before I die,” she said, her voice carrying a bittersweet mix of sadness and contentment. “When I’m gone…”
“N-No, no… What are you talking about?” Amara questioned, quickly interjecting her friend’s words with a mixture of confusion and disbelief on her face. “Look, you’re alive. We’ll get home together, and you’ll meet everyone again, okay?” she said, her expression shifting through a range of emotions, from hope to denial. “You know I can’t live without you, right?” she added, her voice trembling with emotion, the pain of potentially losing one of the most important people in her life evident in her eyes.
“You will, and you must. You must live for me. Okay, Mara?” Layla remarked, smiling sadly at her. “You need to be strong. Often, you’re just too good. Be selfish sometimes. Think about yourself more,” she urged, her voice growing faint as her vision dimmed. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in this life. Please, don’t forget me when I’m gone, okay?”
“Please, don’t say that!” Amara exclaimed, her arms tightening around her friend in a desperate embrace. She simply couldn’t accept the idea that her best friend would die, leaving her alone in the world. “You will not die! I refuse to let it happen.”
“Wait, wait,” Amara’s voice quivered with urgency as she gently released her friend from her embrace, her eyes widening with a sudden realization. “Maybe the young master knows what to do. Yes, he really would know,” she murmured to herself, glancing back at her friend, whose breaths grew shallower by the moment. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you. Just wait here, and I’ll go get…”
Before she could get up, Layla’s trembling hand shot up, clutching desperately at her friend’s clothes. Even though the dying girl’s arm was weak, just her action alone, coupled with her terrified face, made Amara stop moving. Instead of going anywhere, she turned back, glancing back at Layla’s miserable state.
“Please don’t leave me alone, Mara,” Layla’s voice quivered, her usual strong facade beginning to crumble. As tears welled in her eyes, she pleaded, “Please stay… I’m scared.”
As far as she could remember, this was the first time Amara had cried so openly. She had always been the epitome of strength, her laughter and encouragement had been a constant presence, cheering her on. Now, she lay on the floor, dying. “O-okay,” she managed to choke out in response, the word catching in her throat as if finally admitting the harsh reality that her best friend was going to die. Seeing her friend in such a helpless state, pleading that she stay, she couldn’t say no, even though it was hard.
‘Yes, I can’t just leave her…
But what if the young master knows a way to save her? No, probably not. And even if he does, would he even want to help me? Despite his kindness so far, there’s no guarantee he’ll assist me.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
And what if Layla dies alone while I’m out seeking help? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. No, I couldn’t bear the thought of it.’
“Thanks, Mara,” Layla responded, managing a weak smile despite the encroaching darkness. “It’s getting really dark now. Can’t see a thing…” she muttered, her voice shaking with fear. “M-Mara, can you say anything? I… I want to hear your voice.”
As the reality sank in that Layla was truly going to die, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, Amara wept silently. With one hand covering her mouth, she gently caressed her friend’s face with the other. “O-Okay,” she replied, trying to steady herself and pretending to be strong so Layla wouldn’t worry about her. “Remember when we were young? When you stood up for me against those bullies?” Gritting her teeth as she forced her voice to remain steady. “You even got your tooth knocked out…”
Chuckling softly, recalling the memory, Layla’s voice held a hint of amusement. “Yeah, that was quite a sight. It was really funny. I did manage to take down two of those bullies,” she responded, smiling at the reminiscence of those happier times. “But, well, there were just too many of them.” Pausing for a moment, a shadow of melancholy cast over her face. “It’s getting cold, Mara,” she remarked, her voice trembling slightly, each word an effort. “Could you… could you hug me for a moment?”
“O-Okay.”
“You know, I just wanted to hug you, right?” Layla quipped; a giggle escaped her lips, a fleeting moment of lightness amidst the heavy atmosphere. As her breaths grew shallower with each passing moment, she continued, “I don’t know if I should say this, but… I love…”
Layla left the words unspoken, her gaze fixed above as if peering into something unseen with her blind eyes, perhaps catching a fleeting vision of the paradise awaiting her. With a final, ragged grasp of breath, her chest rose and fell for the last time, the faint echo of her breath fading into the stillness of the night as she passed into eternity, departing for the afterlife—she died.
“I-I know. I’ve known for a long time,” Amara whispered softly into Layla’s ear. “And, and I love you too,” she admitted, releasing her embrace and gazing at her friend’s serene face. Tenderly caressing it, she continued with a voice tinged with regret, “I should’ve told you a lot sooner. I was just so afraid of what might happen, of how everything would change. Now… it’s too late.”
As if a dam had burst, a surge of emotions, from anguish to regret, flooded through her. “Layla, why did you have to leave me? Please, come back! Please!” she suddenly screamed, her voice echoing in the cold, empty room. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she looked up as if pleading to the gods. “Why must you be so cruel? Just this once, show some kindness and mercy. Bring her back to me!” Her words lingered in the air, heavy with sorrow and desperation.
However, only silence responded to her desperate plea, and the solemn witnesses to their tragedy were the weathered skulls of women who had suffered the same fate. As her heart broke, Amara felt it shatter into irreparable pieces, each jagged fragment a reminder of the loss that would haunt her for eternity.
Again, the innocent’s cry resounds; as injustice spreads, it knows no bounds. Life’s cruelty is stark, let’s not pretend; should vengeance not truly descend? For who will make things right, if not those who share the same plight? So, for you who judge the harbinger, can you even fare better? For peace to find the restless soul’s embrace, vengeance must wear the monster’s face.
----------------------------------------
“Are… are you the Baron’s son?” Grimscar asked weakly, his voice bare above a whisper as he opened his eyes, glancing at the boy. Slowly, his mind regained a part of its sanity as he remained pinned upside down to the wall, each limb skewered by swords and knives, each blade a cruel reminder of his sins. Naked and sprawled, he lay exposed, surrounded by the severed heads of his fallen comrades, arranged in such a horrific way that their lifeless eyes stared at him in his most vulnerable, wretched state, casting a haunting and chilling atmosphere on the scene.
‘Fascinating. It seems when someone finally accepts their death, their fear disappears.’
“Huh, what gave it away?” Elysian replied nonchalantly, dragging a chair across the floor until it screeched to a stop in front of the man. Seating across him, he inspected the uneaten pack earlier, only to pause as he noticed his hand smeared with blood. “Hmm…” he mused, before shaking off the thought with a shrug. Pouring a small portion of nuts into his mouth rather than handling them directly, he chewed with a satisfied expression, momentarily sating his hunger. Turning his gaze back to the thug, a subtle glint of amusement danced in his eyes, betraying the calm facade he presented.
Instead of responding to the question, Grimscar pressed on, the thought weighing heavily on his mind. “What… the hell did I ever do to you… to deserve this?” he asked, his voice cracked with pain and frustration along with labored breath.
“Really? You don’t know?”
“I know… we might’ve crossed you… when one of my guys… tried to squeeze money from that boy…” Grimscar responded, his voice strained and confused by the boy’s question. “But we… didn’t do nothin’ to the boy… We ain’t caused… no problems for you… Wait,” he muttered, his eyes widening in sudden recollection of the girl earlier. “Is it ‘cause… of that whore?”
Elysian let out a deep sigh before responding, “Hmm… I could maybe answer, ‘this is my territory’. It’s my duty and responsibility to clean this place from scum like you. Wouldn’t that sound okay? And it’s actually true.” Pausing for a moment, he nodded to himself and mused, “Hmm… Or maybe I could be funny. I could say that I don’t like your face. Seeing that ugly mug of yours just pisses me off, which is amusingly enough true too.” He grinned, pouring another mouthful of peanuts.
“I ain’t… ugly,” Grimscar retorted weakly, his voice dripping with disdain as he attempted to scowl at the boy’s words. “And who… the hell are you… to talk to me like that? Your face… ain’t exactly something to be proud about…”
“It seems you still have the gall to be funny,” Elysian remarked, raising a brow, amused that the thug still dared to talk back at him. Taking a dagger from the floor, he swiftly hurled it with precision, striking the thug in his right shoulder, causing a grunt of pain. “It seems I’ve been too good to you until now. Aren’t you afraid that I’ll kill you?”