Page 24 of Monstrous Grave

It’s a massive bloodbath.

Five guards lie lifeless on the asphalt, their blood seeping through clothes and skin.

Someone massacred all their guards, tearing the flesh from their chests with a knife, leaving behind a mess of terror in its wake.

I gulp the moment I see a piece of paper lying inside one guard’s uniform, all drenched in blood and placed near the wound as if to taunt me. I know I should turn away, fucking run as far away from here as possible, and take my bike to the Valenti manor. Alec and Mr. Valenti could help me with this shit, knowing what the fuck to do when the Grimaldi syndicate’s guards have been utterly slaughtered. But curiosity gets the better of me, a physical calling that drags and pushes me closer to the note, making me unable to resist it.

With silent, careful steps, I make my way to the guard with trepidation. My stomach ties into knots when the metallic smell of blood worsens, filling my nostrils with the most disgusting smell as I’m forced to lean forward to grab the note. The fucker who left it for me did this on purpose, wanting me to get the guard’s blood on my hands.

I grab the note, attempting to avoid the blood, but it’s too much. I close my eyes, lips curling in disgust as I see the flesh wound up close. It’s enough to make me lose my appetite for days on end.

With bated breath, I bring the note closer, reading the scrawly words written in a now familiar handwriting.

Beautiful, bloodied angel.

Chapter 10

Arcane

Under the haunting glow of the moon, I stand with the eerie silence enveloping me, thickening the atmosphere with a palpable apprehension. Secrets hide in the stillness of the night, those that have now been unveiled—for there, all around me, are corpses scattered in the shadows.

I’m holding the note in my hand with such a hard grip; it’s a wonder it hasn’t yet crumbled into pieces. I should throw it away and allow the wind to carry it far off in the distance, but it’s as if I’m stuck in place, my feet glued to the slippery asphalt.

The wind grips my hair, causing it to tangle while I stand motionless, staring out at the dock around me.

Beautiful, bloodied angel.

I read the words over again, not sure if I’m hallucinating or not.

Blood is now on my hands, stained from the paper that must have been left on the corpse not too long ago. I dare take a step closer to the building, passing yet another guard whose chest is ripped open. The metallic tang of blood mingles with the stench of death, assaulting my senses like a heartbroken lover seeking revenge. It’s unbearable, causing me to gag as tears rush to the corners of my eyes. Another step away, and I notice yet another note. It’s as if they are scattered around, much like the bodies, placed in different areas to make a sort of mystery puzzle for me to solve.

I don’t want to, but the gut feeling within me tells me I have to.

I lean forward, grabbing the edge of the note, this one more crumpled than the other. The text is written in what looks like dried blood, red in a darker hue, the handwriting messy and scrawly.

I stare at the words, my brain refusing to comprehend if they even form coherent sentences.

The reaper wants you to find out…who killed the men?

A frown mars my brow, my heart thudding hard beneath my ribcage in an all too-fast rhythm. It makes me slightly dizzy when I glance down to continue reading the other words on the note.

A game to play, my devil.

In an instant, I’m spiraling down memory lane as the notes fall to the ground, their descent unnervingly slow.

“We’re going to play a game, you and I. A game that requires you to be observant. Trust no one.”

No, no, no, no. I’m shaking my head, staring at the dock with the containers littering the perimeters and the ships by the water. A game, he said, and the next day, he was gone. My lungs start burning, and I barely register that I’ve started breathing faster as I look at the note once more. It has to be a coincidence.

In that instance, I know it is a coincidence. How many criminal organizations haven’t had their fair trade of hatred for the Valentis over the years? Even far before I joined them, they had enemies everywhere. All the organizations in this town have, both from within Penumbra Crest and from those around the country.

Rage fills my being, blood boiling like the water left in a kettle for too long until it eventually explodes into bits of pieces, threatening to ruin the world around me. I clench my fists so hard it feels as if my nails will break, pushing into my palms until crescents form.

I look around once more until I can’t contain my emotions any longer. “Who’s there?” I shout, my voice echoing through the silence of the night. I hear my voice carried away, yet there’s no reply, and it pisses me off.

At that moment, I notice movement farther ahead. A subtle shift in the atmosphere and shadows, as if the darkness moves to the side. I squint my eyes but it stills, and I’m not even sure if it was real or all my imagination.

“Get the fuck out of the shadows,” I growl, holding the gun in front of me.

---