Page 62 of The Freedom You Seek

My father didn’t move even an inch, and neither did Jelric. They were frozen in place and could only watch. Both of their faces were paralyzed into impassive masks, and only the faint rising and falling of their chests indicated that they were still alive. But I had no time to dwell on them, for my attention was fixed on Aster dying in front of me.

This was my mother, and I needed—no, it was my duty—to help her! I didn’t want her to die! But no matter how hard I tried, my body didn’t listen to me. I was rooted to the spot like a statue, damned to be an eternal watcher.

Finally, Aster’s eyes turned vacant, and the choking sounds subsided. The tendrils disappeared, and her body sank lifelessly to the ground. A desperate sob escaped my lips.

Ignoring my distress, Dion had already turned to my father. “And you, Soleth Ortha. There are no words that can describe how disgusted I am with you.”

My father’s blank face came alive with horror as he stared at my mother’s corpse and didn’t pay any mind to the predator who focused his undivided attention on him.

I still couldn’t move as Dion’s hand shot out to my father’s chest, and I cried out as his fingers touched my sire’s body.

Darkness coated Dion’s fingertips, spreading further down his fingers and then his hand, and he easily dug it into my father’s flesh, deeper and deeper to the sound of Soleth’s tortured moans.

Dion resembled an unhinged madman, his features contorted in delight and anticipation as his sharpened fingernails sliced through skin and flesh, and his hand disappeared into my father’s chest.

His fingers curled around his beating heart, and he pulled, cautious but without hesitation. The veins connecting the organ stretched, supported by more dark matter, until Dion held it on the outside of my father’s body, each agitated beat of the organ clearly visible.

“You see, Soleth Ortha, the duty of a parent is to guard their child’s body and soul, as well as their heart. You failed so completely that you don’t deserve a heart of your own, no matter how rotten it may be.”

My father screamed as Dion squeezed the organ into his fist. “Nevermore shall you control your daughter’s heart, body, or soul.”

“Dion—” My whisper was full of horror as I witnessed the scene while I was locked in place. I tried to close my eyes, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

“Don’t worry, Naya. My revenge will give you freedom,” Dion said, full of conviction.

I wanted to answer, but my voice wouldn’t cooperate as Dion’s fist slowly contracted further around the beating organ.

My father screamed and moaned, sobbed, and begged until every single drop of blood had leaked out of his heart, which had given up on beating somewhere along the way. My father was dead and crumpled into a puddle of his own heart’s blood. Horror, sadness, but also relief battled within me.

But Dion didn’t grant me a single moment’s break. He turned to Jelric, and hatred surrounded him—a loathing so visceral that it overpowered everything else.

“Your actual death was unintended. That needs to be revised.” His eyes met mine. “This time, it won’t be an accident.”

Cold shivers ran down my spine as the midnight dagger appeared in my hand, and my legs moved forward. I tried to stop my approach—I really did—but nothing could keep me from advancing.

“Do it, Naya. Free yourself from the past—from your guilt. He deserves your punishment.”

My hand moved on its own, the tip of the dagger tracing over Jelric’s bare skin. Even though he was an evil man, I didn’t want to hurt him. Instead, everything in me begged to escape the field of carnage, but something held my bodyhostage, and my actions weren’t my own. I was merely an observer.

I pressed the tip of the dark dagger into Jelric’s shoulder, and it cut into his flesh like a hot knife into butter.

For a while, I busied myself with leaving shallow cuts all over his skin and watched the slow flow of blood painting his skin red, as it’d done to mine all those weeks ago. I was toying with his fear and agony as Jelric fought not to make a single sound.

Inside my mind, I revolted against what I did, against the strings that controlled me like a puppet—a puppet wearing a face just as sinister and vengeful as Dion did.

The burning wish to stop playing around, if there was no way to prevent this torture, was taking up all the room in my consciousness. I wanted this slaughter to be over with, and a thousand desperate voices screamed inside my head.

As I gripped the darkness dagger tighter and slowly moved the tip lower, across Jelric’s chest, past his belly button, and further, I finally got my wish fulfilled.

The weapon stopped at Jelric’s pelvic area, cutting into his flesh.Deep. Deeper. And by the time the dagger sliced off his manhood and testicles, his agonizing screams pierced the air.

I stared at my hand holding the midnight dagger as I castrated my former fiancé.

When I was done, I retreated to Dion’s side, and both of us witnessed the sight of Jelric bleeding out. Until the end, he was sobbing and moaning and screaming in pain, but neither of us moved or showed any pity.

After an eternity, the life faded from Jelric’s eyes, and silence hung in the air while Dion radiated with satisfied vengeance.

“This, and much more, will happen to everyone who only breathes wrong in your direction. I’ll be your shield and your sword. Your safety and your vengeance. No harm shall ever befall you again.” Dion stared at me with fire in his eyes as he vowed to protect me at all costs.