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Chapter 17 - Monsters Among Us
🕑 Added 2025-12-21 21:34:17 +0000 UTCFelicia was having a nightmare. Rope cut into her wrists and legs, rough hemp that scraped raw against her skin with every slight movement. She could feel the circulation in her feet starting to tingle uncomfortably. And her mouth... gods, the gag tasted of old cloth and something metallic that made her stomach lurch.
This isn't real. This can't be real.
But the creaking stairs beneath the feet of her captors were real enough. Each wooden groan sent vibrations through her body as they carried her downward. They held her firmly, one holding her arms and another her legs.
The scent told her she was likely at the harbor, with salty brine and a faint hint of fish-guts and something else. Something that made her nose wrinkle in disgust. Old wood, damp stone, and beneath it all, the metallic tang of rust. Or blood. She couldn't tell which.
She could make out perhaps five meters in each direction through her mana sight. Three men were bringing her down the stairs, none of them familiar.
This is a nightmare. Any second now, I’ll wake up.
“Put her in the chair,” the man at the front said. The same one who spoke in the hotel room. Probably the leader.
Soon after, Felicia felt herself get lifted down into a hard wooden chair. Then came more rope, this time around her waist, binding her to the seat.
The assumed leader crouched beside her, close enough that his breath warmed her cheek. No alcohol. No garlic or onions or any of the usual scents that might indicate he was just some common drunk looking for easy money.
She would have preferred drunkards.
"So, little girl." His voice was dark and raspy, but every word was perfectly enunciated. Like a theater actor projecting to the back row. "Do you know why you're here?"
Felicia shook her head—the only response she could give with the gag cutting into the corners of her mouth.
I’m not here. Someone else is.
She was calm, but only because she had learned to escape reality. This was all happening to someone else. She was floating above it.
"Of course you do." The man's voice carried a note of patient amusement, like a teacher correcting a slow student. "You're here because you thought you could just leave your family behind. There was a plan set in place, and everything was in order, but then you just left? Did you really think that would be the end of it?"
Ah, of course it was them. Of course it was that gang of rabid fucking hyenas. Did they sense some happiness in my heart? Something they had to snuff out?!
Her breath came in short, sharp gasps through her nose as rage and terror warred for control of her thoughts. The family. Always the family. Even now, even when she'd tried so hard to be invisible, to be harmless, to just disappear—
“Was the knife in your little teddy not warning enough?”
Oh, damn it.
She was back in her body, back in the present. Tears came streaming down her face, hot against her cold cheeks, catching on the cloth gag that kept her silent.
"And there's the reaction I was expecting." The satisfaction in his voice made her stomach turn. "Right now, little girl, you have two choices. One is to come with us in the boat we've prepared, then we'll take you to the Caldimores as agreed."
No.
She shook her head.
"Ah, you should wait until you hear the second choice first," the man said, and she heard the soft whisper of steel being drawn from leather. A blade. "Because choice number two is you die."
Her breath caught in her throat. The casual way he'd said it, like he was offering her tea or wine, made it somehow worse than if he'd screamed it. This was just business to him. Her life, her death, her future—just business.
Do something. Think. There has to be something—
Her mana expanded instinctively, pushing outward as she desperately searched for anything that could help her.
That's when she saw them.
Two figures sitting on what looked like a couch perhaps ten meters away, just within the edge of her mana sight. Two young men with the distinctive golden hair of House Harrowbloom, watching the proceedings with the detached interest of people observing a mildly entertaining stage play.
Norton and Frank. Her two oldest brothers.
The rage that consumed her was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. They were watching. They were sitting there, calm as you please, watching her cry and shake and think she was about to die, and they felt nothing.
How? How is it possible they hate me so much?
Had she ever done anything to them, other than being born? Was that such a damn crime?
They really do want me gone. They really would rather see me dead than free.
The realization should have broken her. Instead, it crystallized something hard and sharp in her chest. If they wanted to play games with her life, then fine. But she wasn't going to make it easy for them.
She turned toward her brothers, opening her eyes wide—something she rarely did anymore, since they were so unsettling to look at—and saw Norton flinch slightly.
Her mana compressed inside her mouth, forming a small, brilliant star of light. Her own magic, a little star of hope. She fired it directly at the cloth gag, ripping through the fabric like it was tissue paper.
The gag fell away in fragments.
"You fucking bastards!" she screamed, putting every ounce of hatred she'd ever felt into her voice. It echoed through the warehouse, raw and primal. "I'm leaving! I'm already not a threat! Why do you have to chase me down like this?! Why?!"
Norton rose from the couch with that same infuriating calm he always wore, like nothing in the world could ever truly disturb him. Even now, even with her shouting at him with more fury than she'd ever expressed in her entire life, he looked bored.
"So you could see after all? Magic?" He tilted his head slightly, as if her ability to break free was merely an interesting puzzle to solve.
“It’s quite simple, sister. If you marry into another family, you lose your claim on ours. But if you just leave with some unknown teacher, you could return at any moment—stronger than ever, even. It’s all for the future of Harrowbloom.”
"Who gives a shit about Harrowbloom?!" The words exploded from her throat, raw and vicious. "I hate the name so much, I would rather die than return! You made sure of that!"
"Heh, that's what Lily said as well," Frank said—her second brother. He remained seated, not even bothering to look at her directly.
Lily?
“Is that why she left for the academy?”
Felicia's oldest sister was the only one she could tolerate. Lily had never bullied her, though that was all the positive she could say. She'd been distant, cold, but not actively cruel. Then she'd left to study at the Novanny Academy of Magic four years ago, and Felicia had assumed it was just the natural progression for a talented mage.
“Well, that’s what she said,” Norton replied. “But we know she’s gathering allies for when she finally returns here. It was a clever move, since we can’t touch her from here.”
“Which is why we’re making sure you can’t do the same,” Frank continued.
The casual way they discussed it made her stomach clench.
"So heartless bastards think everyone is a heartless bastard. Makes sense."
Norton's smile was the sort that never reached his eyes. "Heartless? You think we’re different from Father? Do you even know how many uncles and aunts we’re supposed to have?”
Frank leaned forward in his seat, shaking his head. He seemed to be enjoying this far less than Norton. “The fight for succession has always been won by those who dare take it. Mother taught us that, over and over.”
“But we’re not monsters,” Norton continued. “We're giving you a choice here. I thought it was nice of us to arrange a marriage for you instead of outright killing you."
It was no use talking to them. But she had to keep them talking, for as long as she could. It was her only chance, to wait for Daniel.
“How did you even convince Grandmother to send me away?"
“Oh, it was simple,” Norton said, leaning back on his feet, looking proud. “We contacted your husband-to-be, and he was very interested right away. A girl with blood from the Grifantes family, who could cause no trouble on her own? Then the rest happened on its own.”
“Grandmother needed no convincing, then… Not surprising.”
"Mother talked with her," Frank added, like that explained everything.
“And Father knew nothing?”
"No, of course not," Frank nearly scoffed, finally deigning to look at her with those cold blue eyes that mirrored her own. "He has grown weak since his own fight for the position. He actually seems to care about you, so it might have caused trouble."
The words should have been comforting. Instead, they felt like salt in an open wound. Her father cared, but not enough to protect her when it mattered.
Only Daniel has that power.
"Let's not waste any more time here," Norton said, moving closer to the chair where Felicia was bound. His footsteps echoed in the warehouse space. “I feel like our dear sister is stalling.”
Because I am, you fucking monster.
"I'm not going to choose." The words came out steadier than she felt. "If you kill me, you will all die."
“Hah! You obviously don’t know, but this place is so hidden that our own guards have never found it. An underground warehouse used for all sorts of smuggling at night. No one will ever know.”
Daniel can find it… Right? Maybe he can follow their trail somehow? He would only need to get close. But… How long would he have? And when will he even learn that I’m gone?
Doubt crept in like ice water through her veins. The chances of Daniel finding this place before they killed her were slim at best, and that was assuming he was even searching for her now. For all she knew, he was still out on errands.
"He will come." She forced conviction into her voice that she didn't entirely feel. "He's stronger than Grandmother by far."
"There's not an ounce of mana on you, sister. We checked you for tracking formations." Norton bent down next to her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. This close, she could see the cruel satisfaction in his eyes through her mana sight. "Gods, we really should have made those cuts less conspicuous."
…What?
"We were a lot younger then," Frank said from his spot on the couch, sounding almost nostalgic. "It was your idea."
“She wasn’t meant to survive the crash. I panicked a bit.”
The crash. The accident that had taken everything from her. The accident that everyone had told her was just that—an accident. A terrible, random tragedy that had befallen their family.
But it hadn't been an accident at all.
Her brothers had planned it. Had planned to kill her and her mother when she was just seven years old, and when that failed, they'd settled for blinding her instead.
“You… fffffucking monsters.”
"Get it over with, then," Frank continued with the same tired tone. "Now that you've told her, I'm sure you've made your mind up."
"I have." Norton straightened, extending his hand toward the man with the knife. "Hand me the knife, Stag."
All her mana gathered in her mouth, compressing into the smallest, most focused point she could manage. This wouldn't be like the clumsy blast that had broken her gag. This would be surgical.
If I'm going to die, I'm taking at least one of you with me.
As Norton reached out to grab the knife from Stag, Felicia opened her mouth.
Die!
The condensed star of light erupted from her lips like a bullet, aimed directly at Norton's face. For a heartbeat, she thought she had him.
But Norton's reflexes were faster than she'd expected. He jerked backward. The concentrated beam of light caught him across the cheek instead of punching through his eye as she'd intended. It tore a ragged gash from the corner of his mouth to his ear, but it wasn't lethal.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it—
"Aaaagh! You bitch!" Norton crashed to the ground, both hands pressed to his bleeding face. When he looked up at her through his fingers, his eyes were no longer cold and calculating. They burned with pure, murderous rage.
His arms began to glow red-hot as he surged to his feet. The Harrowbloom magic he had learned since he was six.
How comical it was that she would die to the magic they had denied her for her entire life.
Norton charged toward her, and the air turned warmer with every step.
Then the world froze.
Not metaphorically. Not the way time seemed to slow in moments of crisis. The world literally stopped.
Norton hung suspended mid-stride, and the remaining parts of his face that were twisted in rage had changed. His eyes were filled with fear. Primal fear—the kind you only understand once you experience it.
Felicia recognized this mana. The sensation of floating in space, endless and infinite. But this time, it was far less gentle. This time, it was like a blade hanging over her head. Calm, but holding a deep rage—a promise.
Move and I kill you.
Comments
Hayden Futch
An index? And a link to the next chapter at the bottom? I feel like I'm being spoiled in this patreon.
