Page 230 of Mayhem and Minnie

Even though Julien is not a demon, he’s certainly pretty demonic. I’m still struggling to reconcile the fact that he might be abusing his fiancée with the man I grew up with. Sure, he could be a pompous ass, but I never knew him to be aggressive. I also can’t begin to imagine what must be going through Mother’s head right now.

Realizing her son might be taking after our father must gut her to the core.

As I reach the third floor, I check the east wing first.

Stepping onto the hallway, memories of my childhood assault me—none of them too pleasant. Flashes of blood and screams invade my mind.

I swallow.

The noise had woken me up one night. I must have been around five or six. I walked slowly out of my room, following the harsh sounds, only to find my mother in the middle of the hallway in a pool of blood with my father looming over her. She was half naked, writhing in pain, while my father grunted on top of her.

Unfortunately, that’s only one of such memories. My entire childhood is filled with the image of my father in the throes of anger and my mother bleeding helplessly as she tried to protect her children.

I was helpless to help her back then—would be helpless for years to come.

But one day, I wasn’t anymore.

One day, I set her free.

I close my eyes.

I suppose that’s why the situation with Julien hits so close to home. No matter how much I might dislike my brother, I can’t help but be disappointed that he’d do the same shit we suffered in our childhood.

The east wing is clear.

I see my old room, but I don’t want to step inside it. It’s been years since I last went inside and every time it puts me in a foul mood.

Cursing under my breath, I pivot and head to the west wing.

I only take a few steps before I hear a creaking sound coming from the game room from the fourth floor.

Frowning, I go up the stairs to check. It might be nothing, but it could also be something.

What I didn’t expect, however, is to open the door and be greeted by the same sight that’s been replaying in my head for years.

Blood.

There’s blood on the floor.

So much blood it’s flowing in all directions.

And in the middle of the room, there’s a mountain of corpses. Four, to be precise.

The two at the bottom are my uncles. Their insides have been shredded, their entire chest cavity seemingly removed. Blank eyes meet my shocked ones.

On top of them is Marie, one of my mother’s friends.

But the last one… The last one is Julien.

His eyes are open and unblinking. Blood is pouring from his mouth, still trickling down his face and neck—a sign he must have been slain recently.

“What the…”

Behind the corpses is a figure swathed in darkness. It slowly turns. Dark, savage eyes flicker with interest. A dark, shimmery mist surrounds the figure, growing in size with every passing second.

Its lips slowly curve up in an unnatural smile before dark tentacles reach for me.

Cara.

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