BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 126's

There was the sound of heavy stone sliding, followed by the sound of steps. Some people entered the secret room and descended the stone stairs. They're whispering. His voice echoed, but it didn't sound too clear. Nolan clenched both his hands tightly. His fingertips were cold. Cold nose. His breathing is getting faster. He was gripped by horror.

Marco noticed. He patted Nolan on the back twice to break the boy's heart, saying that the girl was not alone. Marco's efforts were a little successful. Nolan's breathing turned more calm. He took a deep breath and exhaled from mouth to palm, trying to warm his frozen finger.

Nolan turned to the side, to where Marco should have been, but all he could see was pitch black. He could not even see the tip of his nose. Actually he wanted to try whispering, asking what he should do later or what sign Marco would give him so that he did not misbehave, he said, but Nolan was afraid that his voice would sound loud in that silent space, so he remained silent.

After waiting for some time, the men finally arrived at the base of the tower. There were two people, and both of them were young men of responsibility wearing black hooded robes. The hood they did not wear, making their dry brown hair visible in the dim light. Each of the young men carried a lantern as lighting as well as one blade of a short sword.

Nolan glanced, seeing Marco staring at him with one finger stuck to his lips, asking him to remain silent. The girl nodded obediently.

Marco was quite confident in his own stamina. Even though this year he had already passed the fifty-third date of birth, he was confident that he would be able to beat up the two young men by himself. That is if both of them do not carry swords. But their opponents now carried swords. And he did not know if there were any more waiting on top of the tower. Marco touches the revolver he slipped on his belt, considering using the weapon. He could have shot both opponents in the head by now. But what if they meet another stronger opponent later?

The two black-robed youths walked in slow steps like fear. They even stood up. The two spoke with a rough and casual Southern accent.

"There's nobody. Where they might be here, they don't know there's a secret room. Come back, this place scared me to death!" said the first young man with a trembling shrill voice.

Nolan swallowed. The two men were looking for them.

"Wait, there's a door there. Let's check first" said the second young man, sounding equally restless.

"The door is just a decoration! No one ever tried to open it, but they couldn't! Comeon! The old man could not have gone far. His feet are hurt!"

Nolan turned to look at Marco in shock. He did not know the man was hurt. It felt like he had seen Marco walk normally since then.

"Eh, that one's a girl, right?"

Nolan's heart was like it was stung to hear that person talk about it. The two men deliberately spoke out loud, perhaps to overcome their fear. Neither saw Marco nor Nolan curled up under the turntable.

"We can work on him first if we meet later. Mubazir if dibu—“

The first young man could not finish his sentence. Marco came out of hiding and threw his knife, right at the neck of one man on the right. The person let out a choking sound, then collapsed. The lantern he was carrying fell and broke. The fire struck the oil that was spilled on the floor. The second young man bought, staring at the body of his friend who was convulsing with a gaping mouth. Before the man could recover from his shock, Nolan let out a scream and galloped, kicking at the lantern light the man was carrying with the intention of turning off the light. The kick wasn't strong enough. The lamp did not escape the opponent's hand, but it was enough to distract him.

Marco swirled forward, thrusting his fist violently down the man's jaw. The age of the young man may still be as early as 20. His life path should be long. Marco doesn't care. He kicked the young man's crotch hard until he fell. Screaming, the young man swung his sword wildly. Marco used the sole of his hard shoe to hold the blade and kicked the weapon right on the handle until it bounced. The sound of metal clanking fills the tower. The young man flipped over and crept to retrieve his weapon, but Marco raised his legs high and stomped on his wrist mercilessly.

The young man under his feet howled long while gripping his wrist, which was likely broken.

"Take the sword, son." Marco moved his head in a commanding style. Nolan obediently picked up the short sword that was thrown somewhat behind Marco.

Nolan picked up a short sword on the floor, which turned out to be quite heavy. Thirty inches long with double eyes. The handle is made of cheap metal. Nolan intended to keep it as his weapon. He turned to tell Marco, just as his eyes caught the first young man with a knife in his neck trying to get up, exerting the rest of his strength to throw the short sword he was still holding towards Marco.

It all felt so slow to Nolan. The world seemed to stop moving and the voices were lost to time. Nolan dropped the sword he picked up and shouted a warning. His hands are out front. His feet moved so slowly as if he was walking in mud. Marco heard his screams and looked over. The second young man who was in front of Marco used the opportunity to break away and escape.

***

The party was also held on the third floor. When turning into the corridor leading to the master's room, they greeted the spacious room with arch openings without doors. There were over fifties of people gathered there, men and women, and all of them were wearing ornamental masks like in a carnival. Even the servants wore masks.

Jose turned to the direction where Arabella was, but she had disappeared in the crowd.

The clink of the piano was floating in the air, and people were staring at Jose while giggling and whispering. Jose gulped, uncomfortable with all this. This place was crowded and crowded, but he felt a half-dead chill as if he was in the middle of a snowstorm. He retreated slowly, trying not to attract anyone's attention, even if it was free. When Jose finally found the courage to turn around, he was confronted by a maid in a white uniform carrying a silver tray filled with red wine.

The waiter was wearing a green carnival mask that only covered his eyes. He approached Jose and offered him a drink. Jose nodded politely. The waiter looked disappointed. Her brown hair that was stroked lightly as she walked forward, still with a tray of drinks in hand.

"Master, you saved me once," the waiter said. Her voice was as sweet as in a dream. "Will you help me again?"

"What?" Jose frowned. His hand still touches the medallion behind the tux. He looked around nervously, feeling as if he was being locked up by the guests. "Sorry, I don't know you."

"You know me!" The waiter looked behind Jose, then repeated in a louder voice, "Master Argent helped me! Free me from the mountain!"

Jose's heart is breaking. His skull was like that of thousands of insects. He felt his knees go limp and his stomach twisting. "Impossible," she whispered slowly. In his mind now imagined another figure that was far from beautiful, a foul-smelling undead figure that made a sound like clogged water. Jose shook his head once more, trying to find the words he had lost from his head. "Gla ... dys?"

The waiter in front of him grimaced. "I told you, Master knows me."

"Can you help us too?" ask someone else. Jose turned around, seeing that he was not wrong. The guests did move closer to him in an intimidating manner. The guests had already formed a curve surrounding it. They were all wearing party masks, and all of them were smiling until their white teeth were seen. "Save us all!"

Horror arises in waves that beat mercilessly, paralyzing. The longer he felt there, Jose knew he could be hysterical. Jose moved back slowly, then ran out of the room. His shoulder hit Gladys' shoulder. Inevitably Jose re-imagined the figure of the girl when he was in the Cliff Curam. The figure of a corpse whose shoulders were off and the joints were irregular. Jose's breath was puffed. Her chest was burning hot. Jose sped up his run until he almost tripped on his own leg. He could still hear the sound of their laughter behind his back, soulless laughter. He could hear the sounds of pleading with his ears like the hum of a wasp.

Rescue us.

The voice was so clear, as it was spoken directly into Jose's head.

We want to stop partying!

***