CHAPTER 9: THE EXECUTIONER'S DANCE

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[⚠️⚠️Warning: Mature content. Detailed exposition of body parts are present]

Charlotte's eyes widened in a horrific blend of emotions, a swirling tempest of fear, anger, sorrow, and a burning desire for revenge as she confronted the gruesome scene before her.

There, before her,

lay the severed head of her devoted servant,

Ana...

Ana's lifeless head rested upon the unforgiving, icy floor, its once-vibrant features obscured by a horrifying tapestry of tangled flesh and skin. The macabre sight defied the conventional expectations of a cleanly severed head; instead, it appeared as though it had been gruesomely wrenched from her body.

A nightmarish tableau emerged as her spine remained gruesomely attached to her decapitated head, creating a ghastly connection between her detached cranium and the rest of her remains. Her heart had been mercilessly torn from her chest, a cruel separation that spoke of unspeakable brutality. Her wide-open eyes bore the stark, haunting expression of someone who had met a death that defied comprehension, as though she, too, had not anticipated the horrors that had befallen her.

"Ana...."

Charlotte's words hang in the air as she looked at Ana's decapitated head, her body tensed up and her mind went blank. She never expected anyone to be tortured and murdered this way, let alone the person being Ana, her trusted servant.

Charlotte stood in silence, her voice silenced by the grotesque scene before her. Her eyes remained fixated on Ana's severed head, her body frozen in a tense, horrified tableau. Her mind, overwhelmed by the unthinkable brutality laid bare before her, descended into an abyss of shock and disbelief.

This horrific act of torture and murder had shattered all of her expectations, and the victim's identity, Ana, her loyal and trusted servant, made the reality even more unfathomable. The depths of despair and rage churned within her as she grappled with the nightmarish truth, forever etched into her memory.

Charlotte's voice quivered as she screamed, her eyes brimming with tears as she locked gazes with Callisto and Isabelle. She fought to contain her emotions, refusing to let them see her vulnerability.

Callisto's cruel amusement was palpable as he scoffed, a sly grin stretching across his face. He casually leaned against the cold, unforgiving wall, his arms crossed in sinister satisfaction.

"Charlotte, I thought you were smarter than this," Callisto taunted, his tone dripping with condescension. "But it seems I overestimated you."

His words were laced with a sadistic wisdom as he continued, "You see, my dear, it's more effective to torment someone close to the suspect than the suspect themselves."

Charlotte's fury boiled over, and she bellowed, "Callisto!" Desperation surged through her, and she strained against the restraints that held her captive, her fury a tempest yearning to be unleashed upon him.

But Callisto corrected her with a chilling smile, "King Callisto, Charlotte," he purred, approaching her slowly. He grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his malevolent gaze, his dominance asserted in the cruelest of ways.

"You're nothing but a fraud, Callisto." Charlotte grinned, "You're nothing but a replacement to the death of the true king, Cesare...you're illegitimate child! Nothing but a second prize!"

*Slap*

A resounding slap was like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves through the tense atmosphere. Callisto's anger reached a boiling point, his fist pounding Charlotte relentlessly until her coughs spattered blood, and the chair tumbled to the ground.

The room was plunged into chaos, and it seemed like there was no end in sight to Callisto's wrath. It was only when Helen, with a desperate plea in her eyes, and Isabelle, with sheer determination, intervened by grasping Callisto's arm that a sliver of sanity began to return.

"Callisto, stop this!" Helen implored, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and concern. Isabelle's grip tightened on his arm, her face a mask of resolve.

"I'm not some consolation prize, Charlotte!" Callisto roared, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and hurt, while Charlotte, though battered, only responded with an eerie, taunting laughter, well aware of her power to torment the self-proclaimed king who stood before her.

"Take her to the chambers!" Callisto barked, his anger uncontrollable, his chest heaving with every breath. His rage was directed squarely at Charlotte, and he was determined to see her face the consequences.

With brutal force, the knights dragged Charlotte along, her bloodied face bearing witness to the violence that had transpired. As they hauled her to the chamber, her eyes couldn't help but fall upon the severed head of Ana, a haunting reminder of the grim fate awaiting her.

The chamber itself was shrouded in a foreboding darkness, the dim light revealing a sinister wooden gallows. A twisted smile danced across Charlotte's lips; she knew this place would be her final destination, the stage for her last breath.

The guards manhandled her, placing her on the unforgiving platform and securing her wrists, still bound together. Her gaze remained cold and unwavering, knowing that the noose hanging above her was the instrument that would seal her fate.

To be continued....