carried across 88

88 Open The Doors 

Sera 

“Do it.” 

Irina raised the mask. She pressed the inside of the hardened clay directly against Bram’s face. 

She slammed her palms against the outside of the mask, locking it into place. She started the chant again. 

Bram’s entire body went rigid. His massive hands clamped down onto his own kneecaps, his knuckles turning stark white. A low, guttural groan tore out of his chest. 

Then came the sound. 

It was horrific. It sounded like heavy boots crushing dry tree branches. It was the sound of Bram’s actual facial bones cracking, shifting, and breaking under the surface of his skin. The magic forced his cartilage to snap and reform. It dragged his flesh across his skull to fill the exact dimensions of the clay mold. 

Bram’s boots scraped violently against the stone floor. He shoved himself back into the chair, fighting the pure, unadulterated agony of his skull restructuring itself. Blood began to drip from his nostrils, sliding down his chin and pooling under the edge of the mask. 

The bone-cracking stopped. The room fell silent again, save for Bram’s heavy, ragged panting. 

Irina dropped her hands. She picked up the wet linen cloth again. She pressed it against the edge of the mask and wiped the dissolving clay away. She pulled the mask off in chunks, letting the grey sludge fall to the floor. 

Bram opened his eyes. 

Yvara let out a sharp breath. The guard by the door took a synchronized step backward. 

It was Kael. 

The jagged scar that used to cut through Bram’s beard was completely gone. His jaw was heavier. His nose was slightly crooked. The deep, bitter wrinkles framed his mouth perfectly. It was a flawless, terrifying replication. 

Bram reached up with a shaking hand. He touched his own cheek. He ran his thick fingers over his new 

nose. 

He looked at Fenris. 

“It is done, Alpha,” Bram said. 

The pitch was exact. The gravelly, bitter tone was perfect. Even the slight rasp in the back of his throat matched Kael’s voice entirely. 

1/2 

+25 Bonus 

Fenris stared at the man sitting in the chair. He looked at the face of his enemy grafted onto the skull of 

his loyal guard. 

“Get up,” Fenris commanded. 

Bram stood up. 

Fenris turned his back to him. He walked over to the original Kael, who was still lying on the floor. The ruined, faceless mass of flesh twitched weakly. The broken bone still protruded from the torn throat. 

Fenris didn’t hesitate. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t offer a final prayer. 

He reached down and grabbed the featureless head with both of his massive hands. He planted his heavy boot on Kael’s shoulder. 

Fenris twisted his hands violently to the right. 

A loud, sharp crack echoed through the chamber. The wheezing stopped instantly. The body went entirely limp. Kael was dead. 

“Wrap him up,” Fenris ordered the guard. “Use the heavy canvas from the lower armory. Do not let a single drop of his blood hit the corridor floors.” 

The room moved into rapid, clinical action. The guard fetched the canvas. Rolled Kael’s heavy corpse into the thick fabric and tied it tightly with thick hemp rope. 

Yvara grabbed a bucket of water from the corner and began scrubbing the massive pool of blood off the stone floor. Irina retreated to the far wall, wiping the dark dirt and grease off her hands with a rag, completely silent. 

Fenris walked over to the wrapped body. He bent his knees, grabbed the thick ropes, and hoisted the massive, dead weight entirely onto his own right shoulder. 

“Open the doors,” Fenris told Bram. 

Bram-wearing Kael’s face-pulled the cracked oak doors open. The corridor was empty. 

Fenris stepped out. Yvara followed right behind him. I walked out last, leaving my mother standing alone in the cleaned room. 

** 

日 

Comments 

Support 

Share 

594 Bear 1 Ash 

+25 Bonus