To Put A Leash On The Master

/ HEIDI /

The scene before me is a bloodbath.

Bodies lay scattered across the floor, the once vibrant celebration now turned into a grotesque beano of death. 

My legs feel like lead as I force myself to move. And I hear another piercing cry with two more almost immediately, thuds resonating in my ears, each sound paralyzing me with fear. 

The terror grows so much that it becomes numbing, leaving me to stare blankly at the blood-pooled floor. But then a thought slices through my foggy mind—Hunter. 

Is his corpse among these? How about Dad Griffin, Dad Tad, and Morton—where are they? 

“Saturn, I need help!” I scream, except I don’t hear my voice, as the words barely escape my lips in a hoarse whisper. 

I frantically begin to search the hall. There has to be someone alive, someone who isn’t lying in this gruesome display of devilish deeds. Fortunate if that person is Hunter or other members of my family. But unfortunate when I spot a familiar satin cloth shimmering under the dim light.

Now that certainly is not Saturn, is it? No, I hope not. However, rushing over, I find the girl’s pale body in the blood pool, her heart dug out of her chest. 

“No…” I whisper in disbelief. Surely, this has to be another dream—a fucking nightmare. “No! That’s not you, Saturn. Please… no…” My voice trails off as my palms cover my mouth.

The girl I saw minutes ago can’t be dead.

This is a dream, right? Another damn illusion! 

Panic-stricken, wide-eyed, and my heart pounding, I race back up the stairs. But when I burst into Hunter’s room, I find it is empty—no trace of Saturn nor her scent. 

Fuck, no.

I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, gripping my braids with frail fingers as tremors wrack my body. 

Pain overwhelms me as the urge to cry rises in my lungs. But the tears won’t flow. Even staring blankly at the patterned floor only channels more misery to my broken mind. A misery that suddenly morphs into bravery when the thought of Hunter brings me to my feet.

There’s a subconscious urging me to escape the mansion. Yet, it doesn’t occur to me to listen as I speed down to the hall faster than a meteor flashing across the sky. 

My fear seems drowned in a sea of emotions as I search the hall again, going through the bodies carefully so as not to miss a familiar face.

Like Saturn, their hearts are all ripped out, which convinces me somehow that this might be another dream. 

“Hunter? Dad?” I call out with a growing dread and a panging headache feasting on my brain.

When I notice Dad Tad’s body amidst the carnage, my shoulders drop instantly before I fall to my knees in front of his sprawled corpse. 

I had hopes… hopes that at least my family would be alive if I didn’t find their bodies. But now― now that hope just disperses into thin air. 

“Gods. What’s all this?” I mumble while staring defeatedly at Dad Tad’s open eyes before reaching out to close them.

I sit on my feet; frozen in place for a while. Then someone’s whimper as life leaves their body echoes. But I can’t tell where the voice comes from. 

I’m whipping my head around the blood-painted hall in confusion, scrambling to my feet, suddenly aware that the killer’s lurking nearby.

My eyes dart across the archway to the hallway where the light shines bright; a contrast to the near darkness surrounding me. 

Something catches my attention—the moving shadow of a large wing cast on the wall, its feathers shaped as deadly spikes, exuding a menacing aura.

The intensity of the fear crawling beneath my flesh renders me unmoving. Or maybe it’s the shadow that has trapped me to a spot.

Cold sweat breaks out on my skin, my hair standing at attention as if commanded by the sight. And even as the ominous shadow disappears, I can’t find the spirit to run. 

I’m merely staring at the empty, bloodied space on the wall where it once was while finding it difficult to breathe properly.

A towering figure emerges from the hallway and steps under the archway. The light from the hallway illuminates parts of him—his nose, hair, and shoulders. But the rest of his form remains in darkness, which is why I can’t figure out who he is until he groans.

“Heidi.” 

A gasp escapes my lips, relief flooding in, as I only then recognize the silver-blonde hair glinting beneath the light. He’s alive!

“Hunter!” I cry out before sprinting across the room to where he stands. 

I collide with his form and wrap my arms tightly around his waist, pressing my face into the warmth of his solid, broad chest.

He doesn’t hug me back, but I’m satisfied with him being alive.

“Are you alright, were you hurt?” I ask quickly as I disentangle before patting his shoulders and pressing his arms. He seems fine to me; except, he isn’t moving. “Say something, Hunter. Did you see who did this?” I ask while searching his distant eye. 

As my hands slide down his limb from his forearms to his fingers, I feel something cold and gooey beneath my touch. Then I look down to see what coats them, its coppery tang only now filling my senses. 

Blood.

Why does he have blood on his hands?

I notice the gore soaking his clothes too, and his hair’s matted with it. Then my eyes follow a trail to my own bloodstained hands before wandering back to Hunter’s, watching the man let go of the bloodied hearts he cupped in each fist. 

Oh, gods! Don’t tell me― 

I feel something squeezing my own heart at the sight of that, and a force causes me to stagger back.

In a short moment when the spotlight suddenly flickers across us, I catch Hunter’s emotionless, crimson-streaked face, his expression darkened with an aura from the other side of the moon. 

“No. This can’t be happening,” I whisper while shaking my head frantically.

I’m feeling weak, even my legs threaten to let me down. I’m also almost resigned to the probability that whatever this is only plays in my mind. And I hope that’s the case, I really do.

“Hunter, don’t fuck with me again,” I mutter with a breaking tone. “Please tell me this is another damn dream. Please…”

Hunter remains silent, his gaze fixed on me. And as seconds pass without him talking or moving, I feel my world spinning; suffocating me. 

This isn’t a dream.

It is my own hell invading—a reality that’s worse than any nightmare I could have ever imagined.