Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-One
Isabelle’s eyes flung open as she darted around her in panic. Her brows drew down into a frown as she looked up at the pitch black night sky from whence a blood-red moon stared down at her. This moon felt different…it felt as though it was alive, standing above her, exerting authority, mocking her.  
Her frown deepened as she realized that she lay on the floor and wondered to herself how she had managed to get there. She slowly rose to her feet, unsure of what to make of the soft moans and groans of pain and anguish that flowed all around her. 
She looked down at her feet, and she stood ankle deep in blood. She looked around, and as far as the eye could see, all she could see was blood. Blood containing dismembered bodies, some few centimeters away from death, begging for mercy. 
“What is happening?” Isabelle asked, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes opened even wider in shock and panic. “Where is this place? How did I get here?” 
This strange place felt eerily familiar, like she had been here before, like it was once a place that she had held dear to her heart. Isabelle felt her heart drop out of her stomach as she stared into the distance and saw the tower standing proudly in the chaos. It was in that moment she realized where she stood.  
This was the place where she had met her mother, the place where her mother had told her about her powers, told her about the potential she held. She stared around again, and the vibrant field she knew, the one that was filled with tall flowers, was gone and now replaced with dismembered bodies and an unending pool of blood.  
Isabelle turned her eyes to the tower, and she hitched up her dress and took off running towards it. Maybe there were people inside, maybe there were people who survived whatever monstrosity had happened in this place, people who could tell her what was happening. Her eyes opened in shock, and a loud gasp escaped her lips as she tripped and fell face-first into the blood-stained mud.  
Isabelle looked down at her feet and saw a hand wrapped tightly around her ankle. Her heart beat harder in her chest as her eye traced the hand to its owner. A familiar pair of eyes stared back at her. It was the same woman her mother had told her would teach her about her powers, direct her...lead her, help her understand herself, and get stronger. She was missing an eye and had a huge gaping hole in the side of her face, and as Isabelle looked on further, she saw that her lower half was missing.  
However, her good eye showed resolve, showed that she was still hanging on to hope. It showed a certain anger that somewhat terrified Isabelle. Her one eye held hers just like her hand did to her ankle, clasping her tightly, unwilling to let her escape.  
“Run, child...” she warned sternly, her voice cracking.  
Her heart skipped a beat, and she remembered her mother. She looked around frantically, her eyes tracking every moving object, trying to find her mother with her eyes, her brain scrambling for normalcy in the confusion. She wondered where she was, what had happened to her...what had happened to everybody. It all felt like a fever dream, one she could not wait to wake up from.  
“What happened here? What is going on?” Isabelle asked, finally finding her voice.  
The other lady shook her head vehemently and let go of her ankle. “You need to leave,” she said. “You need to leave before he gets you!” she hissed angrily.  
Isabelle’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Who? Was he the one who did this? Was it just one man?!” 
She ignored her and continued speaking. “You will need to get stronger on your own, child. I cannot help you move forward. You’re on your own now.” 
Isabelle watched as her eyes fluttered closed, and the arm she had been holding her ankle with lay limply by her side. She was dead. Her heart broke in her chest as she stared at the lifeless body covered in blood, at the people who lay in the pool of their own blood, having shared the same fate.  
Isabelle’s breath came in short, hard pants. She wasn’t sure what to do, where to go, or who to see. 
She gasped loudly as she suddenly remembered her mother, and that she had yet to see her since she opened her eyes. Panic set in as she pushed herself up to her feet, ignoring the fact that she was drenched in the blood of a lot of people, and looked around, her eyes scanning the disaster for her mother with no luck.  
She turned and headed for the tower once again, her feet carrying her through the swamp of blood and over the dismembered bodies. But the faster they ran towards the tower, the farther it became. As though it had suddenly developed life on its own and moved away from her as she moved towards it. Isabelle gritted her teeth and pushed harder, determined to find her mother and demand an explanation.  
Just then, her name carried softly on the night wind. She stopped abruptly in her tracks and held her breath as she turned slowly towards the sound of her voice. Her eyes opened wide in shock and fear at yet another shocking scene.  
Isabelle’s eyes widened in shock as her mother weakly clawed at the hand that held her neck in a headlock, her feet barely touching the ground. And behind her stood a strange man. Isabelle looked at the cloaked man, swearing to herself as she was unable to see his face. And yet, even with his face covered, he felt familiar. She could not shake the feeling that she had met this man before.  
She could tell he was looking at her, even though his cloak covered his face. She felt goosebumps rise on her skin. She fought the urge to turn and run away from that intimidating creature, but she knew that she could not leave her mother in the hands of that barbarian, no matter the cost.  
“Isabelle...” her mother whispered weakly as she fought tirelessly against the one arm that held her neck steady in a headlock.  
“Mom...what is happening?” Isabelle asked, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart in her chest.  
“I am so sorry, Isabelle...” Mira whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held her daughter’s gaze. “I should have told you sooner...this would not have happened. You would have been ready...” 
Isabelle looked on in confusion, unsure what was happening, what her mother was apologizing for.  
“I don’t understand...” she whispered, her brows drawn down as she thought long and hard about how to free her mother from her captor. “You should have told me about what?” 
The man behind her chuckled and tightened his hold on her mother. “Yes, Mira...you should have told her the truth. Now, you have gone on to keep a secret that would cost you everything!” he all but hissed.  
“Who are you?” Isabelle asked firmly,  
He smiled wider. “Do not tell me you have forgotten about me so soon, child...” 
“Who are you and what do you want?” 
The man laughed and raised his hand to her; his cloak fell to the side, revealing very familiar markings. Isabelle gasped as her eyes traced the intricate drawings on his arm. Drawings that were identical to the ones she bore. 
“How...how did you get those?” Isabelle asked. “Why do you have them?” 
The strange man threw back his head and laughed. “Why don’t you go home and ask the bastard that birthed you?” he said, his voice dripping with vile and venom.  
He knew her father. He hated him. But why? 
Isabelle’s eyes met her mother’s, who looked away and began crying profusely.  
“I’m sorry, Isabelle! Please, leave. Run!” 
Isabelle’s eyes opened wide as she shot upright in her bed. She looked around the familiar surroundings of her room and sighed in relief as she realized that it had all been a dream. A dream that felt all too real. She thought about what the man had said and wondered to herself why he had the same markings as her. She had thought it exclusive to the daughters of the moon. Why did he ask her to speak to her father? What was her mother apologizing for?  
She sighed heavily and lay back in her bed, looking up at the ceiling as the questions ran through her head. She wanted answers; she needed answers. Deep down, she knew that this was more than just a dream.