Leo's heart staggered, unwilling to believe the words that had just been hurled at him. Was she truly casting me out? he wondered, trembling as his hands fumbled with a small bag, shoving his few belongings inside. He stumbled through the doorway, dazed, unable to grasp the enormity of what was happening.
Is this a nightmare? he asked himself, staring into the night.
With nowhere to go, no one to turn to, Leo drew a long, shuddering breath, gathered what resolve he could muster, and began to walk. A hundred meters down the road he halted, glancing back. From that distance, the house seemed smaller, yet it still pulled at him with invisible chains. He had never truly understood her—his mother—but tonight clarity struck like a cruel revelation: she had never loved him. Was this punishment for his trip to the city?
She stood at the doorway, as if waiting. Then, through the dimness, Leo spotted a man approaching. The shadows blurred his features, but he saw him step inside—the house that had once been his home. A hollow, bitter laugh tore from Leo's chest. Could it be? Has she cast out her only son, only to welcome another man into her den of filth?
Rage ignited. He turned back, storming toward the house, determined to confront her with her disgrace. But as he crossed the threshold, something strange halted him: a faint, acrid scent, the unmistakable tang of gasoline, mingled with the powdery sweetness of perfume. He recognized it instantly. It was hers—the fragrance his mother reserved for rare, solemn occasions.
And tonight, it seemed, was one of them.
Leo climbed the stairs, every step heavy with resolve, determined to catch them in the act. But the sight that awaited him shattered even his darkest expectations.
A man stood over his mother, driving a knife deep into her abdomen, snarling through clenched teeth, "Tell me where the boy is, and I'll make your death quick… believe me!"
Leo froze, the world narrowing to a tunnel of horror. Then his voice tore free, raw and desperate: "Mother!"
She turned her head toward him, eyes wide with terror, blood streaming down her hands. "I told you to run!" she gasped. "Why did you come back? Run… now!"
The stranger flung her body with one brutal motion, slamming her against the wall so hard blood burst from her mouth. Leo bolted forward, panic choking him, reaching for her—"Mom!"—but the man's hand closed like a steel trap around his throat, lifting him off the ground.
"If only you knew how long we've hunted you, little one," the man hissed, his grip tightening. "You're a fool to come back here. Your mother hid you from us for years… but you've grown now, ripened into exactly what we need. I wouldn't have found you if not for your own stupidity. And thanks to your little ghost of a friend—Carlos. He was very happy to give me your address. But don't worry. I've taken care of him. Permanently. Now you're coming with me."
"Carlos…?" The name cracked from Leo's lips, his eyes flooding with despair and guilt as he stared at his mother, silently begging forgiveness for doubting her.
She was barely conscious, breath coming in ragged pulls, whispering his name with lips gone pale. The stranger dragged Leo toward the door, his voice a vicious bark. "Stop struggling, you worm, you're only making this harder—stop it!"
"Mom!" Leo's cry broke like glass. He stared at the man's fingers clamped around him, his mind reeling. Is this even human? What is this creature?
He thought it was the end—until the air cracked.
Boom. Boom. Two gunshots split the house like thunder. His mother, swaying but unbroken, held a pistol with trembling hands, firing again and again. Bullets tore through the room. The man's grip faltered and Leo dropped to the floor.
She staggered to him, pulled him into a blood-slick embrace. "You have to leave now," she whispered urgently.
"What do you mean?" Leo stammered, voice shaking. "We'll go together—I can't leave you."
"You must," she snapped, voice rising like a whip. "I won't argue. Go ahead of me. I'll be fine."
"You're soaked in blood! There's no way I'm leaving you—"
Her hand shot out and struck his cheek, a sharp, stinging slap. She gripped his shoulders with iron strength. "Leo. Leave the house now. I can't hold him off much longer. If anything happens, go to the bank. There's a deposit in your name. It will help you."
"What are you talking about? Nothing's going to happen. We can run—"
She pressed her forehead to his, kissed the crown of his head. Her voice softened into a whisper, trembling but resolute. "Only God knows how much I love you. Please—just for today, be my son and do as I ask."
A single tear rolled down her cheek. Leo wiped it away with a trembling thumb, surrendering. "Okay… as you wish. I'll—"
A hand shot out of the darkness, claws of flesh digging into her back. "Aah!" she cried out, pain slicing her voice in two. She turned to him one last time, eyes full of sorrow.
"Go," she whispered.
He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, hard enough to sting, and bolted out of the house as she had begged him to. He didn't even glance back—he simply ran, letting his feet carry him wherever his eyes led.
Inside, the man laughed. "Leora… you're still as foolish as ever," he sneered. "Do you really think that pathetic little pistol can stop me?" He hurled her body to the floor with brutal force and strode toward the door—only to find his limbs suddenly locked, his entire frame seized by an invisible grip.
His head snapped toward Leora, who was on her feet again, swaying, blood-slick, but smiling with a predator's confidence.
"Having trouble moving, John?" she asked softly.
"What did you do to me, you wretch? Is this blood magic?"
"You're only just realizing?" Her voice was ragged but calm.
"I let you sink your claws into me on purpose, you whore! Release me now!"
"And why would I do that—so you can kill my son?"
"It doesn't matter if you free me or not," he spat, eyes blazing. "Your spell's range is only twenty meters in your condition. Run and it'll break. Stay and it'll fade on its own. You're finished. You know you have no way to kill me. Just release me and I'll give you a quick death."
"You're right," she murmured, "I can't kill you here… not with my powers so weak."
She raised a dagger and dragged it across her own palm, a deep, deliberate cut. Blood streamed down her hand, dripping onto the floor. Moving slowly, she walked a circle around him, her footsteps heavy, until the pooling blood formed a ring. She smiled faintly as she began to chant.
Within seconds, her blood surged upward, drawn as if by an unseen current, flooding into his body, forcing its way past his lips and down his throat.
"Ghhk—what the hell… what are you doing?" John gagged, body convulsing.
Leora sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, and watched him coolly. "If there's no way to kill you alone," she said, "then I'll just take you with me."
His eyes widened in horror. "What… no. No, you didn't. You used forbidden magic. You've—"
She struck a match, the small flame flickering like a cruel smile, and stared into it with sorrow. Then she dropped it onto the fuel-soaked wooden floor. Fire roared to life instantly, devouring everything in its path.
John screamed over the rising inferno. "You're insane! You'll kill us both—release me now! What kind of spell is this?"
She looked at him with a victor's gaze. "You deserve to know the way you'll die. It's a forbidden spell of possession. Everything that happens to my body happens to yours. You'll die a truly miserable death."
"You're mad! Even if you wanted to kill me, you're insane to burn yourself alive! Release it!"
She inhaled the smoke, taking a drag from her cigarette as the flames licked at her legs. "Better to burn than to leave any trail for that bastard to find my boy. I know they'll come looking for you. Best you turn to ash first."
John howled, writhing, his voice a raw animal's as the fire took hold of his flesh. She prayed Leo would never return to see her like this. Then she turned back to John, meeting his eyes one last time.
"Oh—one more thing," she said, lifting a knife, "this magic won't end even if I die. So I see no reason to experience the full agony of burning alive." Her voice sharpened. "Enjoy your punishment—for laying a hand on my son."
And without a flicker of hesitation, she plunged the blade into her own heart.