Chapter 15 Breaking point

Chapter 15 Breaking point

Serena's POV

Two days.

It had only been two days since I joined the Charisata Coven, and I already wanted to die.

I thought leaving Cassian and Kael behind would give me peace. I thought being with my own kind would make me feel less like a freak. Less like something that did not belong.

I was wrong.

My hands were raw from scrubbing. My back ached from bending over the washing basin for hours. My knees hurt from kneeling on the hard stone floor.

They had me doing everything. Washing clothes. Scrubbing floors. Cleaning toilets. Anything that no one else wanted to do.

And the other witches watched. They whispered. They laughed.

"Look at the little human playing witch," one of them had said yesterday.

"She does not even know how to cast a basic spell," another added.

"Helena must be desperate if she is letting trash like this join us."

I kept my head down. I kept my mouth shut. I told myself it was temporary. That once I learned to control my powers, things would get better.

But today felt different. Today felt like the universe was testing just how much I could take before I snapped.

I was at the washing area behind the main building. A large stone basin filled with cold water and dirty clothes. My fingers were numb. My shoulders screamed with every movement.

Just a few more pieces. Then I could rest. Just a few more.

I heard footsteps behind me but I did not turn around. I knew who it was. Lydia. She had made it her personal mission to make my life hell since the moment I arrived.

"Still working, human?" Her voice was sickly sweet. Fake.

I did not respond. I just kept scrubbing.

"I asked you a question."

"I heard you," I said quietly. "I am almost done."

"Almost is not good enough."

Before I could react, she grabbed the basket of clean clothes I had just finished. The ones I had spent the last hour washing.

And she dumped them on the ground.

The mud splattered across the white fabric. Across my legs. Across everything.

Laughter erupted around me. I looked up and saw at least six other witches standing there. All of them watching. All of them are enjoying this.

"Oops," Lydia said, smiling. "Looks like you will have to start over."

Something hot twisted in my stomach. Something dark and angry.

But I swallowed it down. I took a deep breath and started picking up the clothes.

"What is wrong?" Lydia crouched down next to me. "Not going to fight back? Not going to show us that big scary power Helena keeps talking about?"

"Leave me alone," I said through gritted teeth.

"Or what? You will cry? Run to Helena like a pathetic little child?"

I kept picking up the clothes. Kept my eyes on the ground.

But then she kicked the basin.

The dirty water splashed everywhere. All over the clothes. All over me. The cold liquid soaked through my dress and into my skin.

The other witches laughed harder.

And something inside me cracked.

I stood up slowly. The clothes fell from my hands. I turned to face Lydia.

She was still smiling. Still so sure that I was nothing. That I was weak.

"Did I make you angry?" she asked, tilting her head. "Good. Maybe now you will—"

I just stared at her. I did not move. Did not speak.

But something was happening. I could feel it building inside me. That same power from the fire. That same violent, uncontrollable force.

Lydia's smile faltered. "What are you—"

My eyes started to burn. Not like crying. Like they were on fire from the inside out.

The world around me took on a red tint. Everything looked sharper. Clearer.

And then Lydia started screaming.

She grabbed her head, her fingers clawing at her scalp. Her body convulsed like someone was electrocuting her.

"Stop!" she shrieked. "Stop it! Please!"

But I could not stop. I did not even know what I was doing.

Blood started seeping from her nose. From her ears. From the corners of her eyes.

The other witches stopped laughing. They were backing away now, their faces pale.

"Serena, stop!" one of them yelled.

But I could not. The power was flowing through me like a river. Like a flood. And I had no idea how to turn it off.

Lydia collapsed to her knees. Blood was covering her face now. Her hands. Her clothes.

And then her stomach started to bulge.

She looked down in horror. So did I.

Something was moving under her skin. Pushing against it from the inside.

"No," she whimpered. "No, no, no—"

Her stomach split open.

Intestines spilled out onto the ground in a wet, grotesque heap. The smell hit me immediately. Copper and waste and something rotten.

Lydia's screams turned into gurgles. Then silence.

She fell forward into her own blood and organs.

I just stood there. Staring. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

What did I just do?

"She killed Lydia!" one of the witches shouted.

"Get her!"

Four of them rushed at me. Their hands were glowing with magic. Their faces twisted with rage and fear.

I did not think so. I just reacted.

I snapped my fingers.

The sound echoed across the courtyard like a gunshot.

And all four of them dropped.

Their bodies hit the ground at the same time. No blood. No screaming. They just fell and did not get back up.

Dead.

I killed them.

The remaining witches stared at the bodies. Then at me. Then they ran.

They scattered in every direction, screaming for help. Screaming for Helena.

I stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. Surrounded by corpses and blood and the clothes I had been washing just minutes ago.

My hands were still glowing faintly. That red tint was still covering my vision.

I looked down at Lydia's body. At the intestines spilling out of her. At the blood pooling around her.

I did that.

I killed her.

And the worst part? The part that made me want to throw up?

I did not feel bad about it.

She deserved it. They all deserved it.

That thought should have terrified me. Should have made me question what kind of monster I was becoming.

But all I felt was tired.

So tired.

I sank to my knees right there in the mud and blood. My dress was ruined. My hands were covered in dirt and who knows what else.

I heard footsteps. Lots of them. Running toward me.

I looked up and saw Helena leading a group of witches toward the courtyard. Her face was unreadable.

When she saw the bodies, she stopped.

Everyone stopped.

The silence was so heavy I could barely breathe under it.

Helena walked forward slowly. She looked at Lydia's corpse. At the four other bodies. Then at me.

"What happened here?" Her voice was calm. Too calm.

I opened my mouth but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? That they pushed me too far? That I lost control?

That I was a monster?

Helena crouched down in front of me. She looked into my eyes and I saw something flicker across her face. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition.

"Your eyes," she said quietly. "They are still red."

I blinked. The red tint was still there. Still covering everything.

"I did not mean to," I whispered. "I just... I could not stop it."

Helena reached out like she was going to touch my face but then thought better of it.

"Get up," she said.

"I—"

"Get up, Serena. Now."

I stumbled to my feet. My legs felt like jelly.

Helena turned to the other witches. "Clean this up. Prepare the bodies for burial. And no one speaks of this outside the coven. Understood?"

They all nodded quickly.

Helena grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the main building.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere we can talk. Without an audience."

I looked back at the courtyard one last time. In the blood. At the bodies.

At what I had done.

And I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.