The Deadliest of the Four

Those among the witnesses who were more than familiar with destruction and violence merely flinched at the explosion. On the other hand, the innocent guests, including a certain vocal lady, began to panic.

“Holy baloney!” Rouge shrieked, clutching her head. “That thing went kaboom! Puh-puh-puh-pow! What’s happening?!”

As the dust settled around the gaping hole, grappling hooks flew over and hooked onto the edges. With a sharp whir, multiple hooded invaders swung themselves in, and out of reflex, some of the residents began to whip out their weapons.

“Chevolaires!” one of them bellowed. “Today’s the day you will rue all your transgressions against us! We shall deliver justice for the vampires!”

“Huuuh?! What the hell're you talking about?!” Rouge cried, pointing at herself. “That’s not fair! I’m just a guest! I’m not even one of these crazy people!”

Clover cursed under his breath. He molded a sword, faced the guests, and pointed at the route toward the nearest exit. “Everyone who can’t fight evacuate immediately!” he hollered. “Forget about your stuff! Prioritize your lives and get out!”

Those who wore fear on their faces rushed toward the stairs. Rouge Roulette joined them, only to skid to a halt as she passed by a young lady with a cracked mask.

“Hey, you! Dorothy, was it? Why are you standing around like a statue? Come on!” She reached for her wrist, only to stop and gawk at her flashing sockets. “D-Dorothy? Are you okay?”

Dorothy’s legs trembled, her eyes glued to a man’s arm bleeding under the pile of rubble. The sight of such destruction looked almost exactly like the scene as another fragmented memory that briefly flashed through her eyes: a scene of a maid crushed under a collapsed wall. Dorothy whined and tried shaking off such a memory.

Clover twitched and turned to his sister, holding his breath once he realized her situation. If she continued to panic any longer, her heart could burst. He had to restore her mask!

He rushed toward her, only to be interrupted by a thin blade soaring between them. The remaining bystanders winced as more Crimoire projectiles aimed toward them in a flashing flurry. Clover and a few others raised and stacked their shields, but as more and more bullets and blades hit the barriers, they began to crack.

Dorothy finally snapped out of her daze, and with hands clasped on her head, she whimpered and rushed toward the stairs.

Clover glanced over his shoulders and swore under his breath. He glared at Rouge who fell into a daze as she stared at the colorful battle in awe. “You! Go after my sister and bring her back to me!”

The lady blinked. “Eh? Sh-She’s your sister? Uh, I don’t know, pal. Isn’t it too dangerous to bring her back here?”

“I’ll give you extra food coupons!”

“Oh, Dorothy, sweetie honey darliiing!” Rouge called out, rushing after her while waving an arm. “Yoohoo! Come back, pleeease!”

As she followed the masked girl around the corner and toward the stairs, a giant battle axe swung through a window beside her and smashed a vase, stopping her in her tracks. More raiders broke in through the windows and blocked the remaining residents from the exit, including Dorothy, who almost made it to the stairs.

“Eek!” Rouge jumped away.

“Woah there, lass,” said a gruff man, picking up his axe and resting it on his shoulder. “No one’s going anywhere.”

Rouge clicked her tongue and whipped out her wand. With a flick, her accordion burst out from her room and soared in the same path she went, knocking a few raiders in the way. She snatched her instrument, pressed a button, and cracked it by her side, crimson static surging. 

“Listen, I don’t know what the hell’s your problem," she said. "I ain’t even one of the Chevolaires, but if you decide to ruin my patrons, then there’s no way I’m letting you have your way!”

The diva whipped her accordion at him, and he deflected it with a swing of his axe. She twirled and swung again with more force, scraping the carpet floor and swerving it around his legs. With a strong tug, she locked his legs and pressed a button, sending an electrical shock through the man and letting him collapse with foam frothing in his mouth.

Rouge retracted her instrument and rushed toward Dorothy, only to be stopped again as more windows crashed open.

More and more raiders jumped through the broken windows, blocking Dorothy, Rouge, Clover, and the others from each other. Dorothy could only shrink away as they drew closer, her breaths growing more unstable by the second.

“No, no, no.” Dorothy bumped her back against the wall and clutched her head. “S-Stay back!”

“Aww, are you scared?” a woman sneered, snatching her arm. “How does it feel now that you have our perspective?”

Their… perspective?

Dorothy’s breath hitched as more and more corpses lined up a familiar hallway, her dress and arms stained with blood. She spotted a maid cowering in a corner, screaming and covering her face with her arms.

Out of sheer panic, Dorothy screamed and threw the lady away, knocking a few raiders in the way.

“Ah, oh no,” she mumbled. “Not again. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I…” She glimpsed at the witnesses, their eyes widening with shock. “No, don’t look at me like that! Stop looking!”

“Why, you…!” A man grabbed her arm, but by reflex, she grabbed back at him.

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, launching him out the window.

“Oh boy,” Rouge muttered, scratching her head. “Hey, Dorothy! Snap out of it! Just kick their family jewels and make a run for it!”

“Eh?” Dorothy glanced at her and the raiders. “I-I can’t…” What if she hurt them too much? What if it happened again? What if she accidentally hurt them in the same way as before… just like the day…

The day she committed a massacre…

Dorothy looked down at a shard of glass at her feet, staring at her cracking mask. She tried looking somewhere else, only to stare at a patch of purple hyacinths scattered on the floor—the same flowers stained with blood that day.

Her sockets flashed pure red, and something inside her snapped.

✦☆✦

There was a period when the Vamiers hired servants to take care of their house and their children while they worked. Thanks to Solomon’s analytical senses and Maribel's background research, all the servants they hired bore no ill will toward the household, nor would they cause any troublesome drama.

Except, there was one thing the parents overlooked: their children.

One of their children in particular would be one to abruptly end such a period.

It simply happened out of nowhere. During springtime, the servants would clean the mansion while the children studied and played. Although they spent much of their time with each other, each also began to discover their hobbies.

Clover gradually honed his violin skills and started to try out other instruments, Penelope began to learn how to make toys, Theodore had nearly finished reading all the children's novels at this point, and Dorothy grew fond of the garden's beauty.

Indeed, it should've been a peaceful time, and it should've stayed that way.

It was the day after Maribel's birthday when the servants were cleaning up all the leftovers and festive decor. Many of those were floral garlands and bouquets Dorothy grew, and not wishing to waste them, she volunteered and helped the servants by recollecting all her flowers. She planned to preserve them in some shape or form, such as candles and nature-pressed albums.

When the servants insisted that the child should take a break, Dorothy decided to go for a glass of juice.

Of course, with their hands full during the cleanup, none of the servants paid any attention to the girl. That was why no one batted an eye when she stumbled upon a vibrantly colored beer bottle and mistaken it for a fruity soda bottle.

With so much alcohol consumed by a small child, it took only a blink of an eye for the dining hall’s interiors to collapse into rubble and crush nearby servants, spilling the floor red.

No one could stop nor outrun her. One by one, each servant in her path was reduced to stains and flesh on the walls and tiles. Even Horace nearly lost an arm shielding her siblings from herself.

Only when Solomon finally caught up to the screams and cries of his traumatized children did the brutal massacre finally stop.

From that day on, Horace and the children learned a secret the parents regretted hiding ever since. No longer did they hire any servant, thus leaving Horace as their remaining butler.

From that day on did the children realize that they were walking calamities. Should they ever cross paths with any stranger, tragedy may collide. That was the mindset all of them grew up with, especially Dorothy.

From that day on, she carried the heaviest guilt out of all her siblings.

Dorothy finally understood why her brother concealed her face. She finally understood why Horace didn’t hire any servants for his mansion.

It was all so that she wouldn’t remember the monster behind her mask, the monster she was all along.