Mhorfell Academy and the Night Stealer (A Spin-Off) [Book 3]

Chapter 17: The Curtain in Between

Chapter Seventeen: The Curtain in Between

Skyzzer's POV

KUNG MINSAN, napakahirap paniwalaan na sa isang iglap lang, libu-libo na ang puwedeng maganap. Sa pagmulat ng mga mata mo matapos ng isang iglap na 'yon, hihilingin mo na lang na sana'y hindi ka na pumikit pa. Baka sakaling kung hindi mo pinalagpas ang isang iglap na 'yon, babalik ang lahat sa naturang puwesto nito tulad ng nakasanayan mo. Sa naturang ayon dapat ng mundo.

I should've done that. I shouldn't have closed my eyes for a second. I shouldn't have even breathed. I should've known better than to think that the universe is capable of granting a happy ending. I should've known better than to think that this story only revolves around us.

Lumunok ako at tinitigan ang eksenang kahit kailan ay hindi sumagi sa isip o ni sa pinakamalisyosong imahinasyon ko patungkol sa pinsan ko. Rehistrado sa atensyon ko ang paglagpas sa 'kin nang sandamakmak na mga tao. Animo'y mga hagip na ilaw ng mga dumaraang kotse sa kalsada na 'di mo na namamalayan. Pero sa ilang minuto ko nang pagkakatayo 'di kalayuan sa pintuan ng silid ni Alexander, hindi ko pa rin ma-rehistro ang mga nangyari.

My eyes remained perfectly still on my older cousin's unconscious body. The oh-so-great-and-almighty Alexander Cromello is lying on the cold hard ground, almost without a sign of life if not for the persisting efforts of the medics around him. It was only due to their urgent moves and loud orders that I could somehow fathom that life still breathes through him, however faint it might be. Other than that, there was nothing that could tell me that he was alive.

All my life, the only blood I have witnessed with Alexander in the picture is one that he spilled himself. His sweat may stream; His tears could leak; but he would choose the silence and spotlessness offered by a poison any day to ensure he'll never shower the Earth of his blood. However, at this moment, not only is he bathing from his own blood, the blanket... the carpet... the canopy of his bed... the couch... almost every piece of his space was granted the honor of it.

He was quick to anger, but never did his pair of brows once creased like he does now. He was agile for his age. He was not immune to scars and injuries, but he made sure to hide them for years. He was the perfect heir, strong, resilient, and decisive. Yet, here he is. The Dela Vega Mafia leader adorns multiple stab marks on his torso, each varied in size. There were dark purple bruises which were most visible on his sides and arms. His neck had never experienced the feeling of a necklace yet the fresh crimson mark embedded around it led me to know it finally did tonight. But what did it for me was the great alarm on the medics' expressions as they assessed his legs.

Even with my ears muffling the voices around me, I could understand his legs were targeted, broken the same way assassins did to Uncle Johan when he was young and have yet to suffer the handicap he has lived most of his life. Then, it dawned on me, each realization hitting me like a brick.

Will he... Will he also...?

"You're not supposed to stare at it too much." Sa isa na namang iglap, lumapat ang dalawang palad upang takpan ang paningin ko. My breathing instantly caught a hitch as soon as I recognize the hint of lavender aroma.