Stained (N.R)

Chapter 41

I raised my hand, but the runes I drew shimmered and disappeared. 

I tried to summon Diana, Jupiter, Pluto, but I could not. 

He stood and watched me try, a smile on his lips. 

"You are of my blood, Katyusha," He mocked my fruitless attempts. "I will always know how to tame you. Your magic will not work on me, and of course, your teacher must have taught you why. Your powers can never be used to hurt your own kin, or in this case, your bearer."

Cold rage washed through me as the last bit of strength I had seemed to leave my body. He was breaking me, taming me, driving me insane, like how people tamed wolves into dogs. He would crush my pride, crush my bones, crush all the things that belong to me, and when I have nothing left, I will be his.

I clawed at him, my hands balled into fists, but was weighed down by the hands of the widows on my shoulder. 

They pinned me to the floor, my left cheek pressed against cold tiles, my eyes level to the tip of his shoes. 

"I didn't have enough power to keep you by my side, that was my fault" He knelt by me, stroking my head. "But now I have found a way."

I felt sick as I looked into his eyes, taking in his fake smile.

 "You disgust me." I managed out.

His smile faltered. "I do what I need to do, to survive, Katyusha, but of course you would understand, you are much the same."

His eyes turned cold. "You are not a hero, Katyusha, you never were and never will be, have the lives that you saved made you forget those that you killed? Then let me remind you."

He waved his hand, and a holographic screen appeared in front of me. He tapped at it, and pressed it to my face. 

On it, were filled with files of photos, video footages, of those that I've killed.

My mouth clenched. 

It was one thing knowing that you have killed and harmed your whole life, but it was another when someone put all the evidence, all the hurt, all the damage in front of you. 

Every person I have killed under his command, every life I've taken, was laid out in front of me, with no room to breath, no escape. 

"I understand, it's not your fault, you killed them in order to survive, you never had any choice." He whispered into my ear. "It's the same with me."

"No." I felt the hands of the widows pressing me harder onto the floor. 

"They don't care if people like us had any choices or not." He continued. "Remember what I've told you before? No one cares why you kill, they only care if you've killed or not."

"No...." 

"After your hero friends see this, what would they do? After all their very existence is to terminate people like you, people like us. " He interrupted me again. "You don't belong with them, they are not your kind, your family."

He paused, and pointed a finger at one of the widows. "She is your sister, she is your kind, she is your family, Katyusha. Raise your eyes to her. She was abandoned, she nearly died, I saved them, all of them."

"F*" The swear word was choked down by him before I could finish it. His eyes hardened. 

"Why did you kill, Katyusha?"

To live, to survive, to make him proud. 

"You killed for yourself, you killed for me. I was so proud of you." His finger traced my chin. "I have also told you, I needed a daughter I could use. You were that daughter. But you left, you left me, and you left Antonia to a fate you knew she couldn't stand."

I left Antonia to be enslaved, controlled and grow by the hands of our father. That was why when I thought she died by the hands of Ilya, I was glad, happy, for me and for her, so she would never have to go through what I did. 

I was wicked, I was dishonorable, I was all the things that heroes ought not to be. I wished for the death of my own kin, telling myself it was the best for her. I wished for my own death, but was too cowardly to follow it through. Instead, I killed more to breath, scrambling among blood and ashes. 

I was scared of dying, so I initiated the end of others. 

"No matter how many people you save, how many good deeds you do...." He waved the widows off me, giving me some room to breath. I coiled at his feet, staring at his heels, like some tamed, obedient creature. "As soon as they know who you are, they will shun you, and try to kill you."

He reached for my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to look up at him. "Rats do not belong in the sun, my daughter, no matter how long they stay under it, they will have to return to the gutter, one way or another. "

But that part of me changed, long ago. 

Unlike him, I didn't stoop to accept my fate. I chose to see, to speak, to think for my own.

I can never bring back the dead, and the wrongs I committed could not be corrected in the same way that they were destroyed, but it doesn't mean I continue down his path, drowned in self pity and sorrow.

Most of the world is a scale of grey, with no complete right or wrong, but in very rare cases, there are cases of extreme evil. 

It doesn't take another extreme, some kind of extreme kindness or righteousness to correct or put an end to that evil. Anyone can do it, anyone on that scale, as long as they have the power and the will. 

The door behind me bursted open, a clog of red dust wafted into the room, Yelena and Antonia in tow. Behind his back, Ilya pressed the cold edge of her long sword to his neck.

"Checkmate." She said.