Moonlight Sonata// Pruaus

Chapter 61

Roderich was panicking.

What was he supposed to do now?

He'd just murdered his own father. He felt like he was going insane. The blood he'd drank satisfied him more than any food he'd ever eaten, and that thought scared him. He was dizzy, weak, panicking, stressed out.

But most of all, scared and confused.

What wouldn't Gilbert think of this? What was Roderich supposed to do now? He was going to jail. Or he'd have to go on the run. How was he supposed to get out of this?

His life as he knew it was over.

No. This couldn't be happening. This must all be some sick dream.

Yet the metallic taste in his mouth was apparent, and his clothes were very obviously soaked in the red liquid. He was standing in a pool of his own fathers blood, tears running down his face and mixing with the drops of blood on his cheeks.

What had he done?

"Roderich?"

His heart seemed to stop, his throat closing up and the tears going faster. He backed up against the wall and into the shadows, the hatchet in his hand clattering to the floor as a familiar face appeared in the window.

Gilbert stood in the window, his eyes wide and his lips parted slightly.

The sight left a sour taste in his mouth, his stomach writhing in disgust. He didn't understand how that much blood could come from one body.

Adolph Edelstien was met with a messy end; 40 hatchet swings in total had hacked up his body until it was almost unrecognizable. The only reason Gilbert knew it was him was because the body had lanky blond hair which was now stained with the copious amounts of blood that covered and surrounded the cadaver.

His curiosity overcame his disgust, and he stepped threw the window and into the room, glass crunching under his feet and his heart hammering against ribcage. He kneeled beside the body, his breathing shaky.

Adolph had his eyes open. His face was intact, yet almost completely falling off the rest of his head. He'd been decapitated, his eyes still open. The deepest cut was most likely the first; one that had hit right above his ear.

That had been the blow that killed him.

The other 39 had been completely pointless.

The scene spoke of rage and hate, the gruesome look of it all most likely scarring for anyone who hadn't seen something like it before.

However, Gilbert had seen a lot more dead things than the average human, so he was relatively calm.

Adolph hadn't been dead for very long. The blood that leaked from what seemed to be everywhere was still flowing and somewhat warm, so those wounds must have been quite new. His shaggy blond hair was slick with blood, his body limp and his clothes and flesh torn. He look like he'd been hacked to pieces with an axe or a hatchet, and the multiple places on the wooden floor with deep groves in them suggested the killer had more emotion than accuracy.

Adolph Edelstien was met with a messy end; 40 hatchet swings in total had hacked up his body until it was almost unrecognizable. The only reason Gilbert knew it was him was because the body had lanky blond hair which was now stained with the copious amounts of blood that covered and surrounded the cadaver.