SERAPHINA'S POV
'He's a monster!'
The voices -
No, my thoughts scream at me.
A wave of anxiety hits, and all that cloud nine rush fizzles away, replaced by dread that settles in the pit of my gut. Crippling fear takes over, and I kick him off me before he can get any closer or touch me any further.
Before his filth can further taint my skin.
"Get off me!" I scream, breathing hard.
Pulling myself up to a sitting position, I fold my legs protectively around myself. He looks at me with wicked eyes, tilting his head to the side.
"Sera?" His voice is calm and confused, contrasting sharply with the distorted mania evident in his swirling red eyes that seem to want to devour me
'He hates us.'
He approaches, ignoring my whimpers and pleas, taking my hand gently and cradling the side of my face.
Fear courses through me, urging me to flee, to escape his grasp before he can inflict any more pain, before the point of no return.
'End him.'
A surge of vengeful rage takes over me as he leans over, way too close for comfort. He's always taken me for granted, looking down on me like a worthless, weak human.
'I want revenge.'
I want revenge.
I feel my hand move instinctively to the side table, compelled by thoughts that seem almost my own, and I grasp the snow globe Olivia placed there weeks ago for her strange collection.
With a surge of force, I smash it against his head, the impact causing it to shatter.
"What the...!" he exclaims, taken aback, as he instinctively recoils and clutches the bleeding wound on his head.
My fury doesn't subside.
I leap from the bed, glaring at him with an intense loathing that courses through every fiber of my being.
"You monster! I won't let you come close enough to hurt me again," I shout, tears streaming down my face, a wave of chaotic emotions radiating from me.
The overpowering urge to inflict more pain upon him consumes me.
I want to twist and break his bones until he cries out in agony, torment him until he grovels for forgiveness, and burn him until nothing remains but ashes.
"What's going on, Sera?" he asks, his gaze filled with genuine confusion. He seems to easily dismiss the blood streaming down his face, attempting to touch me once more.
I can't help but sneer at his pitiable state.
Pathetic, lovestruck moron.
"Sinclair, your kind has caused me so much pain. You're nothing but pitiful monsters, carved out by a selfish goddess into beasts, forever chained to your feral instincts and sadistic desires. Remember this - you're an abomination." The words spill out, sounding alien even to me, but something urges me not to ponder their origin or their meaning too deeply.
"Sera... your eyes."
I look to the window, catching my own reflection.
My disheveled hair and crumpled clothes are hard to miss, but it's my eyes that grab my attention. They've turned an inky black, devoid of the familiar white and green.
Only an endless darkness stares back at me.
'This is who we are.'
I couldn't agree more.
Drawing closer to him with a menacing glare, I watch him as he stands there, blood oozing and trickling down the side of his head from where he holds it.
He approaches me with caution, "Sera, what's going on?"
His gaze searches mine, attempting to find a glimmer of compassion, of something with semblance to sanity, but I feel nothing.
"Tell me what's wrong with you," he urges softly, taking another step, his hand touching my face, revealing the raw worry in his eyes.
But his genuine concern feels tainted to me, a mere façade.
And I see right through it.
Seizing his momentary distraction, a sharp blade materializes in my hand. With swift precision, I stab it deep into his forearm, twisting cruelly, ensuring it grinds against bone.
"Fuck!" he cries, blood spraying from the wound, his face contorting in pain.
Before I can deliver another slash, my blade grazes his cheek, opening a bloody gash that narrowly misses his eye.
Swearing under my breath for not hitting my intended mark, a dark urge surges through me; I want to gouge out those deceitful red eyes and end this torment.
"Sera!" he yells, but his voice is background noise, drowned out by my fury as I lunge, blade glinting.
In a desperate act of defense, he sidesteps, snatching my arm and causing the knife to skid across the floor, leaving a trail of blood.
Now disarmed, he secures me, my hands cruelly bound behind my back.
Struggling fiercely, a primal scream escapes me.
"Sera, snap out of it! It's me, Artemis," he pleads.
"Every one of you disgusting wolves mean nothing to me. Your kind would perish by my blade," I hiss, face contorted in rage.
Using the element of surprise, I violently snap my head back, connecting with his nose. The sickening crunch is followed by a rush of blood, painting both our faces.
As he stumbles backward, dazed, I capitalize on his weakness, launching myself at him.
Slamming him down, I pin him with a strength beyond my abilities, hands clamped around his bloody throat.
"Sera..." he chokes out.
"I will see to your end personally, Sinclair. Only then will I be free of this hatred and your insidious evil. You sicken me... I hate you!" My voice is raw, torn from my throat, as tears stream from my eyes, blurring my vision.
The face before me, contorted in pain, looks at me with unremorse and scorn.
A sharp, unbearable pain rages within my chest. This anger, this intense hurt, it's as if it isn't entirely mine. As if someone else's vengeance, someone else's rage, is igniting within me, demanding to be seen, to be felt.
Gasping, these emotions constrict around my throat, making it hard to draw breath, tightening as hard as my hands around Artemis' neck.
Artemis?
A spark of confusion ignites. Wait, why am I doing any of this to him?
'He hurt you. He deserves it.'
Yes, he made me a little mad, but not to the point of killing him.
'He deserves to die!'
I stare into his eyes, suddenly recognizing the person before me. Those crystal blue eyes, filled with desperation, look up at me as he struggles against my grasp.
"Artemis?" My voice wavers as I take in his face, distorted from the pressure of my hands around his throat.
It's as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes.
"What's going on?" Confusion laces my voice, and I pull away hastily, trying to comprehend the situation.
Why is he beneath me? What was I doing?
Questions flood my mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming me. A sharp pain pierces my head, as if tiny pins are stabbing into my brain.
Gasping for air, he manages to draw breath into his lungs, each inhalation accompanied by a painful cough.
Slowly, he sits up, casting a wary look in my direction before cautiously moving forward.
My gaze shifts to his condition, and I notice the blood smeared across his forehead. More crimson spots stain the rug in the center of my room.
A feeling of dizziness washes over me, my head throbbing in sync with the racing of my heart. The world around me feels as if it's on the brink of collapse.
"Sera?" he calls out, his voice filled with caution as he takes deep breaths.
I'm about to ask what's happening, but another wave of dark emotion washes over me. His face morphs, taking on a sinister expression.
'You don't need him alive.'
The voices in my head drown out everything else, overwhelming me with their demands.
Just as panic seizes me and I prepare to lunge at him again, the door bursts open.
Olivia stands in the doorway, taking in the scene before her. Her usually composed face contorts with horror, and she races toward us.
With strength I hadn't anticipated, she grips my arm and yanks me away from him.
'NO!'
"No!" The protest rips from my throat.
Then, I feel a sharp force against the side of my neck, causing my body to go limp instantly.
Darkness starts to close in, steadily consuming my vision. The last sensation I'm aware of is the feeling of plummeting, as if I'm being swallowed whole by an abyss.