| 33. 𝑳𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒂

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~ Lacrimosa, Mozart

Chapter 33. Lacrimosa

Selena's frown deepened– Carl hadn't fled; he stayed within the confines of his mansion. The revelation didn't soothe her, but the emotions raged within her for her to care.

"I don't care if I die today," she mused, the words resonating in the hollow chambers of her mind. A momentary acceptance of mortality hung in the air, a bitter acknowledgment that the cost of revenge might demand blood.

Selena's gaze cut through the night. The moonlight painted them in sharp contrasts, casting long, eerie shadows on their faces.

"No one will come in," she declared, her voice slicing through the air with a cold finality. Everyone—Anton, Rafael, Alaric, Fabio, and their guards hesitated, caught between concern and grim respect, shadows playing on their faces.

They were here. At Carl's mansion.

"Sele-"

"This is what I want." Her gaze met Big Brother's, and she severed any protest before it surfaced. "Just don't die."

Rafael's glare shifted from Selena to Big Brother.

"Don't worry, brother. Even death is scared of me."

Her footsteps reverberated through the night as she ventured into the mansion, the echo against the cold marble an eerie drumbeat that resonated in the air.

Inside, the mansion loomed like a specter, its empty halls bathed in a ghostly glow.

The moonlight filtered through the mansion's tall windows, casting long, spectral beams that danced with the shadows.

No one was here.

Her fingers grazed the icy surface of the stair railing as she ascended, drawn by the haunting melody drifting from above.

As she reached the top floor, the music grew clearer. There, in the dim light, sat a figure, softly hymning to the haunting tune.

"Carl."

He looked at her with a soft smile on his face. It was so kind and sickening tender. "1079, how have you been?"

1079—the numbers that burned her soul.

Selena's lips curled into a smirk, but her eyes remained cold. "Better now that I've found you lurking in the shadows again. Tell me, Carl, should we finish what you started?"

Carl's expression remained impassive, his demeanor calculating. "I'm not here to play games, 1079. You know as well as I do why we're both drawn to places like this."

1079—shut it.

Selena's voice dripped with venom as she spoke. "Oh, I'm fully aware of our twisted connection, Carl. I'm here for answers, not reminiscing."

Carl's gaze hardened, his tone turning steely. "Answers that you won't find by taunting me, Selena. We both know the risks of delving too deep into our past."

Selena's laughter echoed through the empty halls, mingling with the music. "And yet here we are, dancing on the precipice of oblivion once again. Tell me, Carl, how many more lives need to be sacrificed before this dance finally ends?"

"As many as it takes to uncover the truth, 1079. Even if it means facing the darkness within ourselves."

1079—enough.

"Selena," she griited.

"Oh dear," he sighed as if addressing a child.

"No wonder you are his favorite; no wonder he chose you," he taunted, each word dripping with venom.

Selena's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched as she fought to maintain her composure. There it was—the mention of him, the one she had spent years running from yet trying to find him. "Who is he?" she demanded.

Carl's smile widened a twisted expression; it sent a chill down Selena's spine. Years of trauma hit her.

"So naive, 1079," he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You are so cruel yet so naive."

"Tell me. Who. Is. He?"

Selena's breath caught in her throat as Carl's words hit her like a physical blow. "Did you know 1062. He looked lovely there, his body covered in gasoline as he slowly burned," he taunted, his smile sending shivers down her spine. Hayate.

Her fists clenched at her sides, her mind reeling with a mix of horror and rage. "You," she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. Selena—don't lose your composure, not now, she reminded herself.

But Carl could see the cracks forming in her facade. he could sense the fear and fury boiling beneath the surface.

This was his chance. His opportunity to strike when she was most vulnerable.

His chance for an easy death.

Because he knew, as well as she did, what would happen if he dared to utter another word about—the man who held Selena's strings.

The man whose very name struck terror into the hearts of those who dared to defy him. The man who would wreak horrors on him if he knew Carl had dared to speak to his perfect doll.

"He cared about you, 1062," Carl's voice dripped with malice, each word like poison on his tongue.

"Even in his last moments, he was worried about the truth. About how everything you have right now, everything is nothing but a facade. A mere play to entertain master."

Selena's grip tightened on her gun, her knuckles turning white as she fought to control the rage burning inside her.

The mention of him, the reminder of all she had lost, fueled the fire within her, pushing her past the brink of restraint.

"That poor boy," Carl's words twisted into a sickening mockery, his tone oozing with depravity.

"Even at his lowest, he didn't fail to turn me on. His cries, anger, those sharp eyes. He looked as tempting as he did when he was 11."

Selena's vision blurred with fury, her fingers trembling as she struggled to keep her aim steady. Every fiber of her being screamed for vengeance, for justice, for the end of this twisted game.

"Gosh, if I could have my way with him again for one last time—"

Selena didn't hesitate. With a sharp inhale, she pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the room, shattering the silence like glass.

Time seemed to freeze as the bullet found its mark, piercing through Carl's head with deadly precision.

A crimson bloom of blood erupted from the wound as the metal tore through flesh and bone. The force of the shot caused his head to snap back, his body jolting with the suddenness of the impact.

A gaping hole marred his forehead, the edges jagged and raw. Blood trickled from the wound, pooling on the floor beneath him in a dark, viscous puddle.

For a moment, there was only the sound of her breathing, harsh and ragged in the aftermath of violence.

Selena stood over him, her chest heaving with exertion—she felt a sense of grim satisfaction wash over her.

The monster who had haunted her nightmares, who had dared to speak his name, was finally silenced.

This was just the beginning.












Word count: 1124
Instagram: @vairhans

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