𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐒𝐨 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 |𝐃.𝐌 (re-write)

FIFTY-SEVEN

Tears began to fall down my cheeks. I couldn't help them—I was so, so awfully scared. Was this it? Was I about to be killed? Killed for something I didn't do?

I couldn't see but I could tell I was now walking into the openness of the courtyard. I heard muffled cries and breathless sobs.

"I see I have got your attention," A man's voice called out, echoing somewhere close to me. Just the sound of his voice made my heart beat faster.

Noah's father.

Noah's hands tightened on my arms.

"You all have met my son and now it's time you meet me," the man announced louder, "I am Michael Averias and my vengeance is soon to fall upon you all. . . It is only out of my politeness that I introduce myself."

The muffled sobs and cries grew louder. I thought of Draco and where he was. I hoped he was somewhere safe, not here. He does not deserve to watch me die. My friends too, I hope they are far from here.

"Oh don't look so scared, children," Micheal declared. It seemed strange giving him a name, giving someone who sounded like the devil a name felt wrong, "this was brought upon yourselves. But one girl here has more blame on her hands."

Noah's hand tightened again on my shoulder and then I was shoved forward. No, no, no—I tried to force my legs still but Noah's force was stronger. My feet skidded through the tiny holes of the back fabric over my head, I saw a dark figure holding his arm out.

Please. Please. Please. I wanted to beg but no words left my mouth, only quiet, weak cries. In the distance, I heard a commotion. Yelling? Screaming? I couldn't tell. I was too focused on trying to escape. But it was a useless fight.

"Now this girl may look innocent but I can assure you there is nothing innocent or pure about her," Michael seethed, hatred and revolt lacing every word that spat out his mouth. I was facing him, I could tell by the way his hand gripped my shoulder, then Noah's restraint disappeared and I wanted his hands on me again because this was far worse. Micheal made his son's hand feel safe.

I felt unwell. Sick.

Then, roughly the sack was yanked off my head and I was met with the devil himself. Dark eyes. Pure black, full of evil. Hair just as dark and long but slicked back. He looked just like Noah but older, stronger, scarier. Every nerve in my body was on alert and screaming at me to run. Run. Run.

"Hello, Eliza," he growled, his chin raising as he took in every inch of my face, disgust curling his lip upward. He was made in the dirt of hell and now walked the earth as something wickedly handsome.

"This girl—" Micheal gripped my arm and turned me to face the courtyard of students and professors all on their knees, looking up at me with fear and worry. I was taken aback, "—this girl's family murdered mine with utter cruelty. Butchered them all because of the blood that ran through their veins. Because they were more powerful. They died because of jealousy. Men. Women. Children. All innocent."

I shook my head, no. I didn't. "I didn't." I cried.

Micheal turned my body and I faced him again, "But you did. You may not have witnessed it or felt their innocent blood on your hands but your ancestors did and you will pay for it."