Blood Horn: Chapter 24
The Wrath of Man Made Monstrous
Welcome Back to Bloodthirsty Thursday!
CHAPTER 24
The Horn drowned for years after.
He hunted for the coin with tunnel vision.
He wanted to die.
To end.
As usual, fate laughed in his face.
No matter how many he killed, he remained painfully alive.
His world became a blur. Ruby showers. Stark bone. Clammy organs. Slippery screams. He stayed south for a while, pruning the arid land of thieves, murderers, and worse—but unfortunately never worst. The coin never showed. Not in the serial killer, or mass murderer, or human trafficker. Not in the man who strung necklaces of children’s teeth, or the woman who carved skin from babes and braided the dried strips into bracelets. Not in the gangs who stole virgins and ferried them away, or the mobs who demanded hangings of innocents, or those who did nothing while blood crossed the doors of those deemed other.
The Horn killed them all.
Ripped them limb from limb.
Tore their muscles.
Delighted in their tissue.
Shredded their flesh with teeth and hoof and horn.
It was never enough, but it sustained him. Strengthened him. Even if he couldn’t end his curse, he could guard the land and keep the twins safe.
The Horn checked on them over the years. He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t stay away. He also couldn’t return, and he didn’t. Instead, he lingered outside the masseria, beneath a copse of cypress trees, shielded from the sun. Orsa saw him. She always knew where he was, when to look, how to find him. Her lips would curl in a hidden smile, but she wouldn’t approach him. She was busy with the boys—Eamon, especially—and respected the Horn’s space. He wished she wouldn’t. Wished she would sashay over to the cypress trees, as she had when they first met, and thrust a balm into his hands. Wished she knew how to fix this, fix him, but there was nothing to fix, because he wasn’t broken, only strange.
Orsa had a beautiful life, and he was the ugly truth. There was no place for him here, no place for him anywhere. His thoughts were a snarl of snakes.
This was the last time he’d visit.
He wouldn’t check on them again.
There was no reason to. Orsa had raised the twins to be good, as he knew she would. They were solid and strong, yet soft and kind—all traits from Orsa, from her patient, stubborn love. The three of them ran through the vineyard, bare feet smacking dirt. Orsa’s hair was white now, her skin crinkled like a well-worn map, stunning in its lined complexity, gorgeous in its sun-flushed glow.
And the boys…
The boys were men.
They were tan and broad, but still playful despite all they had seen. Their auburn curls were long, tied back with leather. Freckles dappled every inch of their exposed skin, and their soil-brown eyes twinkled with laughter. They smiled easily. Their tunics were clean. Their bellies were full. They had found a family, a home, a love that had rescued them. The Horn had done the right thing in letting them go.
His eyes steamed.
His heart twisted.
He dipped his muzzle.
A final farewell.
And whispered what he couldn’t before.
“Goodbye.”
Things like this chapter (Every chapter…let’s be honest.) are how you won my reader heart, unending obsession, and an occasional bucket of my tears. You are so freaking brilliant, and this chapter was so beautiful, yet so sad. Bravo! 👏👏👏♥️♥️♥️🌹🌹🌹❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
Clammy organs and slippery screams with terrible things Halo fills our dreams. This is so sad but brilliant!