Made For You

Ch. 19: Once Upon a Midnight Tragedy

Sofia

Vincent once told me that the first second when a bullet grazes your skin is a surge of white light flashing across your lids. That's what happened to him. This bullet, however, hasn't just grazed me. It has lodged itself inside my arm, tearing my skin to embed itself deep enough for me to lose my voice when I try to scream in pain.

More gunshots shower, blasting my eardrums as a body slams into me, knocking my legs out from under. I fall and the man falls with me, my back to the floor and his body entrapping me. The surging pain in my arm blasts to my brain cells, my eyes seeing the black of a tuxedo while sturdy arms hook themselves under me, shielding my body.

"Take cover!" someone shouts; I think it is Fabio but I cannot be sure.

All I know is that my arm is hurting, and no one knows that I am injured.

The whole scene unfolds before me like a nightmare. I see everyone get down on the floor, hands covering their heads and some people dragging their bodies to hiding spots. Vincent helps Dad stay down, sheltering him from the rain of bullets.

The man above me moves and Gabriel's face comes into view. His eyes are trained on something at a distance, rage flashing in his brown orbs.

"Ga...Gabriel?" I mutter his name with great difficulty, raising a shaking hand to touch his cheek, to get his attention.

He snaps his gaze at me, scanning my face and seeing something that widens his eyes. He looks at my arm, noticing how the blood has stained his outfit.

"Sofia?" he says my name, panic flashing on his face, his nostrils flaring. "No...no, no, no...Sofia. Fuck!"

Shadows cover us, shielding us both. Men from our side shoot back, the sound of guns being drawn, bullets being chambered, and soldiers getting ready for war fill the hall.

"Gabriel it hurts," I whimper, the pain growing.

Gabriel shifts to my side, gliding his arms under my back and knees, scooping me up. "Shh...nothing will happen to you. I'm here, okay? Just hold onto me."

I cling to his neck, a sense of struggle evident in my grip, my face nestled in the curve of his neck. I breathe in the intoxicating blend of spicy and woody notes from his cologne, the aroma a comforting anchor as he leads us through the chaotic scene. Two vigilant guards protect us from potential threats as he descends from the stage, my body feeling delicate in his secure hold. His face is marred with the traces of others' blood.

He rounds a corridor, keeping his steps fast. I shut my eyes, praying to God that if I happen to die tonight, my last moments will be full of good memories.

"Helene!" I hear Gabriel shout as a pair of footsteps join us.

"Dios!" the familiar voice of Helene exclaims in that noisy tone. "What happened?"

"Bring the maids," Gabriel orders her. "Head to the private chamber."

"Yes, Master."

He keeps walking, almost sprinting whenever he finds a safe chance to. The sound of the gunshots won't cease, my body grows cold, and my hands start to slip from his neck. I can feel the blood from my arm seeping through my lovely gown, soaking me in parts.

Flickering my eyes open, I find Gabriel standing in front of that painting his father adores the most—Satan eating his son. He presses an eye of Satan and a click of lock sounds. The painting slides to a side, revealing a wooden door.

Gabriel pushes it open with his foot, carrying me inside a darkened chamber where nothing can be seen.

He places my shivering body on the floor, making me lean against a pillar. The place is hot, and my body burns, sweat coating my skin and dotting my face and arms. My wounded arm lies limp on my lap and for a moment I wonder if it will ever work the same.