Chapter 10: Fracture
1310 Words
Chapter 10: Fracture
You never have.
The words were like pieces of ice, hammered in a midnight storm, that came out of the lips of Aric Blackthorn, each syllable cleaving the tense silence like a blade thrust home.
“You bastard!” The stillness was broken by the scream of Vira, and the face of that girl was contorted into a mask of n***d, unrestrained rage. Everything around them was moving slowly, like syrup, as the world was approaching a boiling point.
The crimson eyes of Aric flashed with deadly accuracy, and narrowed to slits, as though to cut through the very air. His senses were keener, all his muscles tensed as a bowstring.
He beheld it all.
The slight shake in the hand of Vira holding the dagger, the fingers tightening with the venomous determination.
The angry throbbing of a vein at her temple, the fury and barely suppressed rage.
The sternness of her set jaw, where reason sank beneath the incoming flood of anger.
The straining energy in her legs, ready to deliver a brutal attack.
He had practiced this scene in the caverns of his brain, enacted it in all its b****y detail.
He knew it all before it happened.
His body was a sharpened-weapon of instinct before thought could follow.
The dagger of Vira gleamed, a flash of silver, deadly pointed at his face. Time bent as Aric fell back with unnatural ease, his torso twisted, his neck craning just enough to avoid the blade kiss.
The air was humming, and the dagger was cutting through the empty air, and it was a hairbreadth away.
His right leg swung up with the blinding speed of a whip, sinew and bone, and struck Vira in the face.
There was a blinding flash of powdered rouge and cracked-makeup, a crimson cloud of vanity shattered in the air. Her head jerked to one side and her body was whirling as the raw-force flung her across the clearing.
She crashed with a heavy, echoing thud, rolling twice before finally stilling in the dirt.
Silence.
Not the quiet of peace, but a silence so thick it screamed louder than any roar.
All eyes locked onto Vira’s crumpled form, disbelief painted on every face.
The two maids stared wide-eyed, jaws slack, their gazes darting helplessly between Aric and the fallen woman.
Kael stood frozen, trembling hands clenched at his sides, mouth agape as if reality had fractured around him.
Vira had been struck.
By him.
An unevolved.
Aric stood firm, cold and unyielding, his gaze a frozen blade resting on her shattered figure.
“Mistress!” Kael’s voice cracked the silence, urgency threading through his tone as he rushed forward, yet he halted short, unwilling to touch the wife of a Pulse without explicit permission.
Vira’s trembling hands pressed desperately against her cheek, ragged breaths rattling from her lungs. Her eyes flickered wildly, disbelief and fury warping her vision, the world tilting dangerously.
That unevolved trash.
Blood slicked her fingers, the dark crimson glistening like wet sin. She stared at the stain as her vision blurred, the color red flooding her mind, drowning all thought in primal rage.
“You… worthless scum,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous, seething with the venom of a wounded predator.
The atmosphere shifted palpably.
Aric’s muscles coiled tighter, stance lowering as he braced against the crushing weight of power about to descend upon him.
She was unleashing it.
The onlookers gasped, stunned that Aric had managed to land even one strike on Vira, though none understood the truth behind it.
Only Aric knew.
The sole reason his blow connected was because she had been caught off-guard, unprepared—her lethal, evolved power unactivated.
Vita, the sacred and mysterious energy birthed from the death throes of darkness creatures, had seeped into humanity like wildfire, rewriting the very architecture of flesh and bone. It was a cosmic reforge, an elemental transformation that carved mere mortals into transcendent beings.
Vita bent the laws of biology and physics, bolstering speed, strength, and endurance beyond mortal comprehension, while unlocking arcane mastery over one’s own body. Evolved humans could twist their muscles, nerves, cells, and bones with deliberate precision, conjuring powers beyond imagination.
Among them, the Blackthorn clan stood sovereign, wielding mastery over the crimson river flowing in their veins. Their blood was a living weapon, a force that crowned them overlords beneath the vast dome of the world.
Vira, however, was not truly one of the Blackthorn bloodline. She had merely married in, a gilded pretender lacking the sacred, inborn dominion over blood.
Still, the chasm between her evolved might and Aric’s unevolved flesh was an expanse as vast and endless as the heavens.
Suddenly, Vira’s aura erupted like a dam shattered, an invisible tsunami of oppressive pressure flooding the clearing. The very gravity seemed to intensify, driving the two maids to their knees in gasping surrender.
Kael staggered backward, his face hardening with fear and reverence.
She was coming.
Aric’s eyes sharpened to deadly points as the earth beneath Vira’s feet fractured violently, jagged cracks spiderwebbing outward from the epicenter of her unleashed power.
“No one… no one touches me!” Her scream tore through the air like a primal roar, her voice a tremor that shook the very atmosphere.
Then, movement.
Aric’s eyes widened in shock, though he had not seen the motion itself. Instead, a cold tingle washed down his spine, a warning flashing through his nerves like a shockwave.
Danger.
His arms rose reflexively, crossing over his chest in a desperate shield as a brutal, bone-crushing blow slammed into him like a battering ram forged in hell.
The sickening c***k of breaking bones echoed through the trees as his arms shattered under the force, muscles tearing like threadbare silk.
His body launched backward with terrifying velocity, crashing into a thick tree with an explosive impact that sent splinters spraying and bark caving inward.
Aric’s head lolled forward as a thick gout of blood spilled from his cracked lips, painting the forest floor in deep scarlet.
But before he could even draw breath to recover, Vira was upon him again.
Her nails had transformed into long, wicked claws, gleaming with cruel intent under the dimming light. She raked him with savage fury, each swipe carving jagged wounds through flesh and muscle.
Crimson sprayed into the air, a gruesome rain painting the battleground in visceral strokes.
Aric’s arms remained crossed stubbornly in front of his chest, a shield of desperate defiance. The claws shredded deep into his forearms, muscles torn raw, yet no sound escaped his lips.
No groan.
No cry.
Only the cold steel of unyielding will.
His bloodied gaze stayed fixed, unwavering, piercing through Vira’s frenzied assault.
Vira’s face twisted in wild fury, strikes growing faster and more brutal. Her claws blurred in a terrifying dance of destruction, tearing flesh and muscle in rapid succession. Each attack pulsed with the intensity of pure hatred.
“Why won’t you scream?” she hissed under ragged breath, voice trembling with disbelief and rage. “Why won’t you beg?!”
Aric’s shredded arms hung limply at his sides, blood dripping in thick, hot rivulets, yet his eyes held an unshakable calm. It was as if pain itself were a distant ghost, unable to breach the fortress of his spirit.
Vira’s anger peaked, breaths harsh and ragged like a storm on the verge of collapse. Those cold, placid eyes burned into her, mocking her fury and defying the very laws of power and fear.
He was weak, an unevolved wretch who should be broken beneath her wrath.
He should crumble, grovel, plead for mercy.
But instead, he stared back with a calm so fierce it scorched her very soul.
Her movements spiraled into chaos, nails slashing faster and deeper.
She wanted to break him.
She swore she would.
- Writer
