49 In The Pool Of Blood

Falcon glanced at Aurelia's ashen face, stricken with panic; her eyes bloodshot. She was staring at the doorway in agony, ready to burst in. He placed a hand on her arm to keep her back, whispering, 'They might still be in there.'

Though she knew they were grasping at straws, Aurelia nodded. He kept a hand on her arm and the two of them tiptoed across the hall. Falcon kept the Glock in his right hand, all the while keeping a firm grasp on Aurelia. In the moments before they pushed open the door and stepped inside, he felt suspended inside a time capsule, as if the world had halted at his feet, awaiting the next few seconds to bring whatever calamity over their heads.

The door creaked inwards and they were both left staring. To Falcon's immense disappointment, not only the room was empty, but it was also infused with the metallic smell of blood.

The room looked like a violent tornado had come spiraling in there, taking everything up in it with a monstrous rage. Broken furniture littered the floor while an avalanche of papers and documents was strewn across the floor.

Falcon felt his eyes rise automatically to the vault, and his entire body went cold at the sight. The numbing of his brain brought with it a sense of disbelief, he had never in his life before encountered panic like this. But then again, he had never before come across magical rings and monsters he couldn't see.

The vault was wide open, the door hanging eerily, swinging left and right on its hinges. The dark cavity behind the door was empty, the opening looking like the gleeful mouth of a beast. They stood in silence, rooted to their spots, taking in the sight; the whoosh of the little door making the only sounds as if it was laughing at their helplessness.

An old piece of parchment was burning at the table. A candle had lopsided onto it, black scorch marks appearing on the wooden surface even as they stood there. Falcon tried to move, but his feet made a sticky squelch as he lifted them. There was a puddle of something sticky in which he was standing, which, he realized with a sinking heart, was blood.

The blood was seeping into the dark carpet, which hid its color well. He was afraid to move his eyes, lest he spied more blood, but his pupils darted towards the source of it, and lying in the puddle of blood, he saw a small object.

Recognizing the object, grabbed Aurelia to turn her away from the sight. Instead, she took a step towards the table and stepped right onto it.

'What...' her brow furrowed in confusion, and she knelt to pick it up.

Aurelia, don't...he wanted to say but his tongue refused to move, no words coming to his mouth as he stared helplessly at her.

Her fingers met the puddle of blood and she yelped, pulling them away with a start. He watched her features morph into realization, her hand jumping to her mouth to stifle a scream.

'Aurelia, don't pick it up...' Words finally found him and he gasped, kneeling next to her and gripping her shoulders to pull her away from it.

He was too late. Aurelia pinched the shape with her nails and pulled it up, the candlelight reflecting sadly onto it.

In the dark, Falcon saw the slit thumb properly, blood still dripping steadily from the cruel gash that'd separated it from the rest of the hand. Falcon sat there in the dark, helpless and anguished, as thunder shook Lapis Valley and Aurelia collapsed onto him with a heartbreaking wail of agony.