Chapter 3
1156 Words
Helena's POV:
I was just about to break and give in, when a tiny ice-cold hand tugged gently at the hem of my shirt.
I lowered my head, and my gaze locked with Kyle's. Dragging every last bit of strength he had left, he slowly, firmly shook his head at me.
"Mom... I'm... okay..."
I froze completely.
My sweet Kyle. He'd poured every last scrap of his fading will into protecting what little dignity I had left.
The man before us flew into a rage at the sight. He lifted his boot and slammed it right into Kyle's mangled, bloody stump of a limb!
"You little bastard, ruining my damn plan!"
"Ugh!" Kyle, already hanging on by a thread, had the life drain right out of his eyes in an instant. His small head lolled limply to the side. The tiny hand that had clutched so tight to my shirt went slack and fell away.
"Kyle? Kyle!"
I shook his little face wildly, my hands trembling. Beneath my trembling fingers, there was only cold, dead stillness.
No answer came.
The little boy who used to sit quietly in the corner drawing, the one who would sneak me a candy when I was sad, the one who'd go a little stiff in my hugs but never once push me away... he was gone.
Right here in my arms, his own father and this piece of trash in front of me had killed him together.
The bodyguard froze for a second, then his face twisted into a look of panicky misfortune. He leaned in to check Kyle's breathing, then yanked his hand back like he'd been burned.
"s**t! He's dead?! Goddammit, what bad luck!"
He cursed under his breath, his eyes darting nervously. It was obvious he'd messed up the job Martin had ordered him to do.
I lifted my head slowly, and fixed my gaze on the still-cursing bodyguard. Every trace of tears vanished. All that was left was raw, searing hate, bubbling up from the deepest pits of hell.
I promise I would grind every inch of his flesh and blood to dust.
The bodyguard's cursing cut off dead mid-sentence. His entire body went rigid with shock, and he scrambled backward a step in terror, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly up and down.
"What... what are you staring at me for!" He tried to snarl and hide how scared he was, but his voice shook so hard he could barely get the words out.
"He couldn't hang on! This isn't my fault!" He spat out the flimsy excuse and bolted out of the basement as fast as his legs could carry him.
And just like that, the world went completely, utterly silent.
There was nothing left now, just me, and my little boy growing colder by the second in my arms. I sat frozen on the floor, squeezing Kyle tight to my chest.
He was so small, so tiny... yet he'd already endured more agony than any person should have to in a lifetime.
Every memory of our hard but hopeful days and nights, every sweet moment he'd leaned on me, played out one by one, each one flaying my heart alive, piece by piece.
My entire world crumbled to dust right along with Kyle's last breath.
I had no idea how much time slipped by before the basement door creaked open again, and a coy, coquettish female voice drifted in.
"Honey, where's that human stump display you promised me?"
Aria wore a fancy, delicate dress, curled up snugly against Martin's chest. One look at Kyle and me bloodied and broken on the floor, and she didn't even bother hiding her revulsion.
"This is disgusting! How did it turn into such a mess?"
Martin's gaze landed on the silent, still Kyle and a flicker of shock flashed across his face, gone so fast you'd miss it if you blinked.
"I told them to stop his bleeding. How did he end up dead..."
Aria caught the distraction in an instant, and she shook Kyle's arm with a petulant pout.
"Honey, is this the human stump display you were gonna show me? He's already dead! You promised I'd get to see a live one, remember?"
In the blink of an eye, all of Martin's attention snapped right back to her. He'd already softened under her whining, and even the faint flicker of unease Kyle's death had stirred in him vanished completely.
"Anything you want, I will get it to you, Aria."
When he lifted his eyes to me, his gaze had already slid back into that same cold, cruel mask it always wore around me.
"Originally, out of respect for the years we were married, I was gonna let you keep your life. I was just gonna make you watch, that's all. But now... Kyle's dead."
He swept a glance over Kyle's body like he was staring at a piece of discarded trash.
"The gift for Aria can't be missing."
He paused, and his eyes crawled slowly down to my arms and legs.
"You'll just take his place. Don't worry, Aria just wants something new to gawk at. Once she's had her fill of watching, I'll rush you straight to the best hospital, get the best doctors to reattach all your limbs for you."
A bitter, mad laugh tore from my throat—raw, rasping, dripping with utter despair. "Martin, do you think this is some kind of kid's puzzle game? Chop it off, then just glue it back on?"
He furrowed his brow and spoke in a condescending, charity-like tone.
"Modern medicine is really good these days. As long as we act fast, the chances of reattachment are high. Just bear it a little. Think of it as making a small sacrifice for this family."
I couldn't be bothered to give him any reply at all. I just held Kyle's lifeless body in my arms, saying nothing.
He waved a hand, barking orders at the bodyguards waiting outside the door.
"Drag that little waste's corpse out and get rid of it. Don't let it dirty Aria's eyes."
Two bodyguards strode over immediately, reaching roughly to yank Kyle out of my arms.
"No! Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch my son!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs, clutching Kyle's ice-cold body so tight my knuckles turned white, but they still pried my fingers apart like I wasn't even putting up a fight.
They dragged him out of my arms and tossed him out of the room like trash.
"No!"
Martin had his arm wrapped around Aria and watched my breakdown completely unfazed, taking his time to enjoy the show.
Slowly, in the same casual tone one might use to pick what to have for dinner, he spoke to his men behind him.
"Get the tools ready," he ordered, turning his head with calm composure, "make the cuts clean. I want Aria to enjoy the show."
- Writer
