Using his fist, he smashes more of the glass until he can fit inside. But he doesn't go in. No, he reaches inside the booth, his taking hold of a piece of material before he throws a body out.
"What..." my mouth is hanging open as I stare at what just happened.
There's a man on the floor of the arena. A small, old man who has the most twisted smile I've ever seen. Even as he struggles to get together off the ground, blood already pouring out of a head wound, he's arrogantly smirking at Vlad.
Jumping from the booth, Vlad's eyes are completely glazed as he heads towards whom I presume is Miles.
"I was right," the man starts, "you are my little miracle."
"Tell me." Vlad growls as he keeps his pace, slowly advancing, his eyes completely focused on Miles. "Tell me," he repeats in a deadly voice that should make people shudder.
Instead, it only makes Miles laugh more, looking at Vlad with a mix of awe and satisfaction.
"You are my greatest achievement," he says, his eyes sparkling with delusion.
"And you'll be my greatest kill," Vlad sneers, his nostrils flared as he takes one more step, his arms riled up with tension, the veins protruding, his muscles strained.
"Really?" Miles arches an eyebrow. "Without finding out what happened to your sister?" he chuckles, and that sick sound is already grating on my nerves.
I want to get there myself and kill him for everything he's put Vlad through. He deserves nothing but the worst torture imaginable for everything he's done.
My own blood is boiling as I cannot wait to see how he meets his end.
"You killed her," Vlad spits the words out, and I feel his rage as my own.
"No, Sisi," Marcello tightens his grip on my arm as I try to go to him again, "let him see this through," he nods at me.
But just as I'm about to say something, Miles' maniacal laugh resounds in the entire arena, the echo reverberating through every nook and corner.
"Me? Think again," his mouth twists up in arrogance, just as he lifts his hand, a small remote control in his hands.
The doors of the arena open again, this time five soldiers coming through. My eyes widen as I realize that Miles never intended to tell Vlad anything. He merely wanted to test his strengths.
"You're dead," Vlad threatens when he sees the other people come into the stadium.
"I wonder..." Miles quips as he presses a button on the remote control.
The screen flares to life once more, the picture from before now a video.
We all turn to look at the screen as the events start playing. What was before two children comforting each other in the darkness soon turns into the most gruesome scene I've ever witnessed.
Tears make their way down my cheeks as I see Vanya fall to the ground, her body beaten and battered, a huge hole in her chest leaking blood.
But my heart hurts even more for the boy next to her. The one who's holding her still beating heart, crushing it in his grip—all the blood draining to the floor.
His eyes are completely blank as he stares at her corpse, as he simply lifts the heart to his lips, his mouth closing over the organ as he bites into it.
"What the fuck," I hear Marcello's voice behind me.
Bianca and Adrian are both saying something, but I can only stare at the events playing on the screen.
"No... No..." Vlad's voice reaches my ears as he too stares at the screen, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open in shock. "It can't be..."
"It's fake. It has to be fake," I whisper, even though I know it to be real.
"Oh, Vanya, what happened?" my voice breaks as I realize that this might very well be the end.
Vlad falls to his knees, his entire body trembling, a loud howling sound escaping his lips.
"Let me go, Marcello. I need to be with him."
I have to be with him.
Because I feel his pain as my own, and my entire being is quaking with anguish.
His features are drawn back in so much pain, torturous sounds escaping his lips as he brings his fists to his chest, banging them loudly against his ribcage.
I know what he's doing. He's trying to punish himself.
I can't let him.
"Let me go, please. You don't understand," I try to wrench myself away from my brother, knowing that every second matters.
There's an urgency inside of me, an instinctual reaction because I know this can only end one way.
"No, Sisi. It's too dangerous. He is too dangerous."
I shake my head, my limbs trembling.
He hurts, I hurt.
"No, Marcello. I need to get to him. I need to get to him before..." the words die on my lips as I see the sudden change. The change I knew was going to come.
No.
"No," I whisper, my entire heart breaking as I see him give in to this sorrow and embrace the darkness. "No, Vlad, please don't," I continue, even knowing it's already in vain.
There's nothing left behind his eyes.
Nothing.
He's gone.
A gasp escapes me as I realize the immensity of just what happened—of what will continue to happen. He'll just retreat into himself until he loses himself completely.
"Let go!" I cry out, desperation clawing at me as I see him slowly stand up, the predator in him awake and ready for blood.
And it only takes a few steps for him to reach Miles, wrapping one hand around his neck while the other is holding on to his head.
Even Miles' gaze is now full of horror as he realizes what he's unleashed.
A little pressure from his fingers and his neck bends sideways, his eyes dead to the world. Just as him. But Vlad doesn't stop. No, that's not right. This Vlad doesn't stop.
He continues to turn the head around until the vertebrae are all broken, a flap of skin the only thing holding the head attached to the rest of the body.
Bracing his knee on his shoulders, though, he pulls at the head until even the skin gives way, blood gushing out and splattering all over Vlad's naked body.
"What the..." Adrian is flabbergasted as he and Bianca stare at this display of savagery.
Except it doesn't end.
He takes Miles' head and crushes it against the ground until the brain is scattered all over the floor, the skull shattered in million pieces.
He's sheer force and brutality.
No humanity left.
I feel like I can't breathe as I look at him like this.
Sweat and blood cling to his skin, his eyes dark and unyielding, and somewhere in my heart I know.
I lost him.
My entire world collapses as I grasp the full implications, and once more I try to get free.
Vlad's already turned his attention to the newcomers, a brutal grin on his bloody face as saunters towards them.
They attack full force—all at once. But no one stands a chance. Not when he moves twice as fast, his thirst for blood the only impetus for him to continue.
He grabs the head of one girl, banging it repeatedly against the wall until her face is an unrecognizable mess. Someone tries to tackle him from behind, but even in this haze that covers his mind, his senses are sharp as he easily moves aside, dodging the attack.
Letting the girl's body drop to the ground, he starts pummeling into the man who dared disturb him.
It goes on and on, this bloodbath.
It won't ever stop.
Spurred by pure desperation coated in a desolation that tugs at my heartstrings, I give a last push, throwing all my strength in wrenching my arm free. I don't wait for Marcello to react as I race towards him.
Wait for me.
Where he goes I go. If he goes, I go.
I run towards him at full force, but even that is not enough as arms surround me, holding me back.
Suddenly Bianca and Adrian are at my side too, and Vlad, seeing that there are no more victims for his taking, directs his crazed gaze towards us.
"We need to take him out." Bianca shakes her head, her gun up and ready to fi
re.
"Please don't!" I manage to yell, but it's all in vain.
Vlad is already wrenching the gun from her grasp, throwing it away, his hands on her throat as he lifts her in the air.
"Vlad, no!" I plead with him, though I know he can't hear me.
Adrian is immediately on him, barely managing to get him off Bianca, taking her in his arms and away from him. A shot resounds in the air, and I don't know who hit whom.
I don't care.
It might make me a horrible person, but I don't. I only care about one thing.
Him.
"Let me go to him. I can talk to him." I turn my tear streaked eyes to Marcello, trying to get him to see reason.
"He's out of control, Sisi. Too dangerous. He'll kill you." His voice is grave as he answers, his gaze on Vlad as he's surveying his moves, slowly backing us away from him.
"He won't." I vigorously shake my head. "He really won't."
"He's not the Vlad you know anymore, Sisi. He's... gone."
"Don't," I gasp, my stomach rebelling, my entire being shattered at those words. "Don't."
He can't be gone.
I don't know what's happening, but I can't breathe. The entire room starts spinning as I gasp for air that won't come. My lungs feel full and empty at the same time, but no matter how much I try, I can't get a hold of myself.
I'm trembling from head to toe and even words fail me as I try to gain some control over myself.
My eyes misted, I feel my brother drag me back to the bleachers. He barks some orders, the words almost foreign. But as I look to the side, I see it.
Men. Soldiers. All armed.
And all pointing at Vlad.
"Marcello..." the words barely make it past my lips. "Wh-what's happening?"
"I'm sorry, Sisi. But he wouldn't want to put you in danger," he says grimly.
"Tell me it's not what I think it is," I whisper. "Tell me."
"I'm sorry, Sisi. He's gone. There's nothing we can do." He continues just as Vlad tackles some of the soldiers, ripping into them like a savage animal.
There's no conscience left. I know that. But he's still Vlad.
He's still my Vlad.
"Let me try. Please, don't do something you'll regret!" I beg him, trying to get my wrists free.
I just need to reach Vlad and everything will be fine. I know it.
Marcello's holding tightly on to me, all the while dragging me back and trying to put more distance between us and Vlad.
"Please, Marcello." I continue to beseech him, all the while trying to escape his grasp.
Looking down at me, he gives me a sad smile and a small shake of his head.
"Now," he yells.
Immediately, shots ring out. I jerk back, turning and watching in horror how Vlad falls to the ground, holes in his naked chest, blood pouring out.
"No, no, no," I mutter incoherently, and for the first time in my life I don't care about anything.
One brief moment of lucidity reminds me of the knives in my boots. Lifting one foot, I prop it on my other leg as I unsheathe the knife from the front of the boot. I don't think as I slash, stabbing my brother and startling him into loosening his hold on me.
Then I just dash.
It's a storm of bullets as I run towards him.
Towards the only thing that matters.
I feel every hit, every bullet that hits my body. And as I fall to my knees in front of him, I can only cover his body with mine. Shield him like he's done to me so many times before.
There's a cacophony of sounds as Marcello orders them to cease fire, my name on his lips ringing into the arena as he yells at me. A voice so near yet so far away.
Blood is everywhere.
My body. His body.
I lift a trembling hand to his face, urging him to look at me, seeking for some confirmation that there's still life in his eyes.
"I'm here," I whisper, knowing he can't hear me. Knowing deep down that he's gone.
"Where you go, I go," I gently caress his cheek, his hollow gaze staring down at me.
He's gone.
And so am I.
Chapter Thirty-Six
THEN,
"You're not listening." Vanya's voice grates on my nerves as she keeps on tugging on my arm.
"What do you want, Vanya?" I roll my eyes at her.
Since when has she become so needy? Doesn't she understand that I have other things to do?
I train daily, from dawn until noon, and then I study and help Miles with his experiments. There's very little time that I have off, and when I do it's for Vanya to blow my ears with her incessant chattering.
She doesn't seem to understand that what I'm doing is going to revolutionize science and warfare. She doesn't seem to understand anything.
No matter how much I try to explain to her that Miles' discoveries will change the world, she doesn't get it.
All she knows is to nag at me every day.
She's always hungry or scared, or in pain.
Weak.
The thoughts come unbidden, and while I know she is my sister, I can't help but feel ashamed of her. I've been trying to make excuses about her to Miles for a long time now, telling him it's just a matter of time before she comes around and realizes the importance of what we're doing. That she's finally going to put in some effort into completing the trials and experiments.
But the more time passes, the more I see her for what she really is.
Weak.
Weak-bodied and weak-minded, she can only drag me down.
"We have a test today." I remind her instead of admitting I have no idea what she'd been talking about. "You should get yourself together. We can't afford another failure," I tell her gravely.
After all, her failure also reflects badly on me.
"Vlad..." I turn to look at her, purple circles under her eyes, gashes all over her skin. "Can't I skip it?" she asks in a small voice.
"Vanya," I start, my tone serious, "you forget what I'm doing for you," I remind her, "this," I trace the small laceration on her skin that's mostly healed, "is a blessing."
She knows what I mean too, because anyone else with her poor endurance would have died a long time ago. Instead, I'd always assigned her tests that I knew she could handle, and when the opportunity arose to help her I did. But doing that is risky for me.
I've just gained Miles' trust. If I mess this up now, then I'll lose everything. Vanya too, since she would never be able to survive under normal conditions.
"You know what happens to others," I raise an eyebrow at her, lifting my own shirt to show her the myriad of scars that run along my torso.
But my case is different.
I've become so inured to pain, so used to being cut open and put back again, that nothing fazes me anymore.
Nothing hurts. Nothing shocks.
I'm... empty.
It's interesting when you put it like that, since in the time I've been with Miles I've only become smarter, stronger, faster. But while my brain has soaked in all available knowledge, my soul has slowly faded away.
Empty.
Even the sight of Vanya battered and in pain fails to rouse any sympathy out of me. The only reaction I get is a rational anger that she can't do better.
Cold rationality.
Every type of warmth that I might possessed at some point is gone. Sometimes, I don't even remember what it was like to... feel.
"I can't do this again, Vlad," she complains, shaking her head slowly. "I..."
Her eyes are bloodshot, her lips chapped. "I don't know how long I can continue like this," she whispers, and I see what she's doing.
She's done it before. Trying to get me to pity her. And maybe before it would have worked, but my patience's run thin.
"You have to, Vanya," I tell her, exasperated. "You'll become stronger. You'll see," I nod at her, leaving her in her tiny corner while I stand up, righting myself and preparing for today's tests.
Miles and I had developed anot
her system—a new area of immunology that could aid us in improving our model for the perfect soldier.
The body can be strong and can resist however it wants in the face of pain, but it's all in vain if the immunity is compromised.
And so we'd started theorizing and putting together a list that could affect immunity and how we could stop it.
Everyone's already been vaccinated against most known diseases, but there are other things out there that can prove just as deadly.
Like poison. Or venom.
We'd already gone through the poison stage, and we've been ingesting small dosages of ground leaves from poisonous plants like belladonna, aconite, datura and many others.
Of course, we lost a lot of people until we got the dosages right, but ever since then I've noticed an increase in alertness, my body responding better to my commands, and thus proving our experiment was well on its way to success.
After a lengthy trial, Miles had slipped a larger dosage of aconite in my food without telling me. It had all been to eliminate bias or the placebo effect from the findings of the study, and seeing that I survived, I'd say the experiment worked.
Vanya, however, hasn't fared so well. She's been sluggish since her last dosage of belladonna, her focus impacted as well as her appetite.
She's getting weaker.
I don't want to admit this to myself, but I don't know how much long she's going to last like this. And I don't know how that makes me feel.
She follows slowly behind me as we go to the lab area, dragging her feet on the floor and trying to get my attention with her petty tricks.
"It's not going to work, Vanya," I sigh, grabbing her hand.
Her head is hung low as she continues to walk with me.
"There you are," Miles greets us, his white lab coat on, his manufactured smile on. "I've already prepared the specimens, and I'll randomly select one for each," he flutters his fingers over a couple of syringes as if he's debating which one to choose first.
"So?" He turns, arching a brow, the syringe with the venom in his hand. "Who goes first?"
I give Vanya a small push, my eyes on her as I try to tell her with my expression that this is her chance to show Miles she's improving.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 74