CARNAL

XXXIII

filler
THE FUNERAL

Mijako stood at the edge of her sister Lola's private funeral, her heart thumping irregularly. Her gaze swept the room, filled with melancholy faces and black attire. The sadness in their eyes was near palpable as everyone recited prayers for Lola's soul to rest in peace.

Beside her, Siraj sighed, before he leanded closer and whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Mijako nodded silently, her eyes locked on the delicate crystal glasses resting in front of her Nirotti relatives. With all of them gathered here today, she knew this opportunity would never arise again. She had poisoned the beverage they were about to drink to celebrate Lola's life and legacy.

As the priest finished speaking, Mijako poured extra of the deadly concoction into the glass. The guests raised their drinks high to toast Lola as Mijako and Siraj exchanged an indecipherable glance.

Siraj placed a gentle hand on Mijako's shoulder and asked softly, "Why did you choose this path?"

Mijako glanced away from the scene unfolding before them and looked at Siraj with determination. "Because this was the only way to be free," she said quietly. "For me to choose my own path."

The room erupted in gasps as the first victim fell to ground—a cousin known for his rude remarks and greedy ways. One by one, Nirotti family members dropped lifeless onto the floor, all save for Mijako herself.

"I knew what they were capable of," she said through clenched teeth as another uncle collapsed clutching his throat. "And I couldn't let them continue living and try to stop me, or worse, kill you. I don't doubt that my father was going down that road with you, he would have never let me be free."

Siraj's expression remained torn between shock and awe at Mijako's resolve. He hesitated a moment before speaking up again.

Mijako's gaze shifted to her fallen family, the blood beginning to pool around their bodies. Perhaps she didn't truly have the answer.

"I don't know," Mijako confessed. "But it brings closure for me, and justice for those who suffered by their hands."

As the last of the Nirotti family lay dead at her feet, Mijako tightened her grip on Siraj's hand, ready to finally break free from the dark past that has been haunting her.

She clenched her fists, and Aphrodite's power surged through her veins. Her voice echoed softly within the chamber of her mind, whispering insidious instructions.

She inhaled deeply, opening herself up to Aphrodite's guidance. Energy crackled around her – luminous tendrils flaring to life – before slithering from Mijako's supple form towards their hapless victims.

Mere moments later, a wet cough echoed through rafters as the young choir boy dropped to his knees. Panic rippled through the congregation, whispers as dangerous as wildfire spreading quickly. But before another syllable could escape their lips, they too succumbed to Mijako's dark gift.

The sickly-sweet scent of sanguine ichor filled Mijako's nostrils as her targets fell one after another like pawns in an unwinnable game. They choked on blood that had once granted them life; crimson fluid spilling from mouths that once sang songs of praise.

Unwavering determination pulsed through Mijako; her eyes locked with those of the high priest who trembled beneath their gaze. He lunged for a nearby crucifix to fend off the ebony-haired demon before him but in moments an otherworldly wind tore it from his grip – clattering to the floor unceremoniously.

The priest stumbled back, wild eyes searching for salvation. A ghastly spectre rose behind him; its lanky limbs encroaching on the man's shaking form as Mijako's fathomless black eyes swallowed it with ravenous hunger.

The spectre wrapped its knifelike fingers around the priest's throat, nails grazing his jugular, piercing skin. Gasping for breath, rivulets of crimson trickled down the priest's neck – his life offered up to her on a silver platter. Terror contorted his chiselled features, unable to escape.

As Mijako strode forth, her obsidian tresses hoisted from her lustrous skin like marionette strings, she grinned; a wicked smile stretching across full lips. The once holy sanctuary resonated with the cacophony of suffering that fed her insatiable hunger.

Her objective complete and satiated desires reached their peak, Mijako relinquished Aphrodite's gifts. Those sinister tendrils retreated into the depths of her being as the final breaths of her victims escaped their mortal shells.

The moon cast its mournful gaze upon the desolation she'd wreaked; an eerie silence where once prayerful voices filled the air. Mijako, along with Siraj, slipped back into the comforting shadows, leaving behind only death and destruction in her wake.