REBIRTH OF A RUTHLESS ANGEL

INTO THE DARK WATERS

Chapter 2

Author pov

The dim light of the room seemed to press down on Damien and Everly as they stood motionless, their gazes fixed on Glenira's lifeless body sprawled across the cracked, dust-covered floor. Her once lively brown hair was tangled and damp, clinging to her pale, waxen face. Her eyes, which had sparkled with curiosity and warmth, now stared blankly at nothing, glassy and dull. The air was thick with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the shallow, synchronized breaths of the twins, their chests rising and falling as they absorbed the weight of their actions.

Damien's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and malice. He tilted his head, studying Glenira's still form like a painter admiring his masterpiece. “It’s done,” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with cold satisfaction. His hand, slightly trembling from the remnants of adrenaline, reached out to find Everly’s. Their fingers intertwined in a brief but firm grip, a silent acknowledgment of their shared victory. “We did it.”

Everly’s expression mirrored her brother’s. Her smile was faint but venomous, her eyes void of warmth as they remained fixed on Glenira. There was no remorse, no regret—only a steely resolve that had been forged through years of resentment. Glenira had always been the cherished one, the light that outshone them both, and now that light had been snuffed out. "She was always so naive," Everly said, her tone dripping with disdain. Her voice was low, almost conversational, as if commenting on an irrelevant inconvenience rather than the death of their sister. "It was time she learned. This world doesn’t reward the weak."

Damien chuckled, the sound low and rasping in the heavy silence. He reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Everly’s face, his touch oddly tender in the macabre moment. "And we’ve made sure she learned it the hard way."

Everly tore her gaze from Glenira’s body to look at Damien, her brows knitting together in thought. “What about the body?” she asked, her tone brisk, practical. Her voice carried none of the hesitation or horror such a question might inspire in others. To her, it was simply the next step in their carefully laid plans. “We can’t leave her here.”

Damien’s grin widened, a glint of sadistic amusement sparking in his eyes. He tapped his fingers against his thigh, contemplating. The answer came to him quickly, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with a chilling kind of glee. “The cursed river,” he suggested. “Dump her there. The place already reeks of fear and superstition. No one will dare go near it, let alone search for her. She’ll vanish, just like all the other secrets it hides.”

Everly’s lips parted in an approving smirk, the image of Glenira’s body being swallowed by the dark waters playing vividly in her mind. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice almost a whisper. “That’s perfect.”

The heavy creak of the door interrupted their quiet exchange. The driver—a wiry, nervous man with darting eyes—stepped inside, his presence hesitant but obedient. His gaze flickered to Glenira’s body before quickly shifting to the twins. He was no stranger to tasks like these, but the cold detachment with which the siblings regarded their sister unnerved him.

Damien turned to him, his demeanor instantly commanding. “Take her to the cursed river,” he ordered, his voice as sharp and unyielding as the blade that had ended Glenira’s life. “You’ll get your payment once it’s done.”

The driver swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “Understood,” he said, though his voice wavered slightly. He approached the body with calculated movements, wrapping Glenira in a coarse, heavy blanket. Despite the grim task, his hands were steady. He dared not falter under the twins’ watchful eyes.

Damien and Everly didn’t linger. They exchanged a final glance before leaving the room, their footsteps echoing through the decaying halls of the abandoned tower. They had a party to return to—a celebration for Glenira’s birthday, no less. Their absence would be noticed, and suspicion was a luxury they couldn’t afford. As they walked, their expressions shifted. Their lips curved into practiced smiles, and their laughter, though hollow, rang convincingly down the corridor. By the time they reached the door, they wore the masks of siblings eager to honor their sister’s special day.

Back in the room, the driver finished securing Glenira’s body. He hoisted the bundle over his shoulder, grunting softly under its weight. The drive to the cursed river was short, but the journey felt endless. The silence in the car was suffocating, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional rattle of loose gravel. The driver’s thoughts raced, each mile bringing him closer to the river’s ominous reputation.

When he finally arrived, the river stretched before him like a living entity. Its waters were unnaturally dark, their surface eerily still despite the gentle wind that rustled the trees. The driver hesitated, his breath visible in the icy air. The river seemed to hum with a low, unnatural energy, as though it were aware of the offering it was about to receive.

With a deep, steadying breath, he approached the edge. The bundle in his arms seemed heavier now, as if Glenira herself were resisting the descent. He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine and, with one final effort, hurled the body into the water. The river accepted it without resistance, the surface rippling briefly before returning to its unnatural calm. It was as though Glenira had been swallowed whole, erased from existence.

The driver lingered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the water. A sense of relief washed over him, but it was laced with unease. He turned and walked back to his car, the oppressive silence of the cursed river trailing him like a shadow.

As he drove away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the river never truly let go of what it claimed.