Chapter 13: Through The Vents
.... It mearnt that the Purge had began.
...Oliver's hands trembled as he slammed the door to his chamber shut, his breaths shallow and quicker than before. The cold air bit at his lungs as his mind raced. Was he doing the right thing? Was hiding truly the answer?
He turned in a frenzy, eyes darting to his wardrobe, his drawers, the tiny bag he had readied hidden beneath his bed at the time he entered the room. Perhaps he could just sneak out, disappear. Maybe he could live in the slums under a new name. Maybe—
But his body wouldn't move. His legs gave out beneath him, and he went back to the corner of the room he had seated before the first scream, curling into himself.
His mind screamed for action, but his body recoiled in fear—a primal, paralyzing dread that had a name: Seraphina—and the ushered dread she brought with her.
Then, a sound—A scream. Not the clinking of glasses, not laughter or music. A real scream—raw, human, terrified, and too close for any form of comfort.
Oliver froze.
Before he could process it, the door burst open. A soldier stormed into the room, a bloody blade in hand, fresh from running a resisting servant through the gut. Their eyes locked.
"There you are," the soldier hissed. "Come here, royal thwart. Lady Seraphina has named rewards for your bloodline."
Oliver backed away in horror. The soldier lunged—but instinct took over. Oliver dove across the bed, tumbling over the other side and yanking open the vent near the floor. He slipped in just as the soldier swiped at his foot.
"Get back here!"