CHAPTER. XXII. UNHOLY BLOOD

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J U L I E T   V A L E N T I N E   P O V

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J U L I E T V A L E N T I N E P O V

Darkness enveloped me, and an icy chill clung to the air, a haunting prelude to the horrors that lay before my eyes. My gaze remained fixated on the crimson stains that dripped from my trembling hands

Each breath I took came in shallow gasps, my chest constricting under the weight of dread, threatening to suffocate me.

Blood-its presence was ubiquitous, an inescapable stain that tainted every corner of the room. It coated my hands, pooled around my feet, and adorned the lifeless forms of my mother and stepfather.

Their faces, once radiant with life, now contorted in an unsettling dance of agony. The grotesque tapestry of their injuries told a chilling tale, a story of brutality that defied comprehension.

A scream clawed its way out of my throat, a primal wail echoing grief and disbelief into the darkness. The sound reverberated through the air, joining the cacophony of terror that enveloped me.

It was the cry of a soul shattered beyond words, an anguished lament that transcended tears and pain.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" The voice accusingly cut through the chaos, a voice both familiar and tormenting.

I turned, my vision obscured by tears, to confront the source of this damning accusation. The figure standing before me remained a blur, their features distorted by the tempest of emotions raging within me.

"Juliet, what have you done?" The voice persisted, an unrelenting echo that haunted the recesses of my mind. It was a voice laden with a tumultuous mix of anger, pain, and hatred.

I felt a cold glove leather hand touch my shoulder causing me to flinch. I look up at his haunting eyes. A cruel smile plaster on his hauntingly beautiful face.

My gaze gravitated toward something on the floor-a silver knife lying beside me, its cold blade malevolently gleaming in the dim light.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm threatening to break free from my chest.

The voice echo again, the woman accusatory voice thunder in the dark, stormy night.

I parted my lips to respond, but my voice faltered, the words entangled in my throat, pleading for release.

Once more, I looked upon the grim scene, evidence of the unspeakable horrors that had unfolded. A sob wracked my body, a visceral manifestation of the agony that had taken root within me.

. I felt like a puppet, ensnared in a nightmarish web from which I could not escape-a nightmare that had devoured everything I once knew.

In that haunting moment, the world seemed to constrict around me, a suffocating embrace that left me gasping for air. The screams, the blood, the accusatory voice-they merged into a symphony of torment that threatened to shatter my sanity.

Shattered PiecesOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz