To His Hell and Back
Chapter 59: A Small Tear

Chapter 59: A Small Tear

Song: Worship- Amber Run

*

Only now, staring at the lifeless body of the skinwalker, did the cloaked figure realize the depth of her mistake. From the very beginning, Cassius had never truly been in pain. His heart had been crushed, his chest pierced clean through—a fatal blow for any other creature—yet he stood firm, unshaken, his posture eerily composed. There was no flicker of agony, no struggle to remain upright. His golden eyes, darkened by shadow, held nothing but quiet serenity, as if pain itself was beneath him.

She had known what it meant to go against a pureblood vampire. They were leagues above lesser ones, such as those half vampires who were turned from humans.

Purebloods were something else entirely. Powerful. Unforgiving. Nearly indestructible. But she had killed them before. She had watched their arrogance wither into terror, their bodies convulsing as death took hold. She had seen pain twist their faces, had listened to their final pleas before silencing them for good, and she had enjoyed every second of it.

But this was different. Now, she was the prey.

Cassius lifted his head, dark locks framing a face that, for once, wasn’t twisted in its usual smirk. The expression he always wore, so cruelly entertained— was gone. For the first time, he looked hollow, it was as if he had finally lost control of the smile he had always etched on his face like a scar.

The moment Arabella was said to be in a life threatening situation, it was as if something inside him had finally shattered.

Even though he knew it wasn’t true.

Why was he so uneasy?

So uneasy that he wanted to just rip out this noisy heart.

Someone like him shouldn’t be uneasy, he couldn’t. He’s not allowed to.

Unlike usual, he didn’t speak. He didn’t play with his prey. The air itself felt heavier, the oxygen thinning as if the world had held its breath.

Then, blood greeted the cloaked woman, along with the sight of her fingerless palm.

Her hand had barely reached for the book when blood splattered onto the floor. For a moment, she couldn’t process what had happened. Her breath hitched, her vision tunneling as her eyes locked onto her severed fingers, lying motionless on the ground. Four of them, cut clean from her palm, exposing raw bone beneath.

She staggered back, her stomach lurching. Cassius had never moved, and yet the deed was done.

What had attacked her?

"What are y- you?!" she stammered, her voice cracking as she shrank back. "You’re not human— not a vampire!" Her breath hitched, panic spilling into her words. "Not even purebloods can instantly grow back their limbs. Much less walk with an empty heart!"

Cassius exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with something unreadable. He wanted to leave. This wasn’t worth his time. But if he walked away now, leaving this matter unresolved, his father wouldn’t be pleased. And if the King was unhappy, his claim to the throne would slip through his fingers. His mother, restless even in death, would curse him for throwing away everything she had suffered for.

Rationally, he knew what needed to be done. Stay calm. Interrogate. Extract the information. Then retrieve Arabella. That was the logical path. The right path.

So why did it feel so meaningless?

"Does it even matter anymore?" he muttered, tilting his head back, eyes locking onto the pitch black sky. Throne. King. Mother. Heir. Vampires. Words that once meant everything now sat on his shoulders like a burden he could barely stand to carry. Even though this was what he lived for. Why is it that now it felt all the more unnecessary?

"What?" the woman asked, her voice sharp with confusion as she had heard him speak, but it wasn’t loud enough for her to make head or tails of it.

Cassius didn’t answer. Instead, he studied her, golden eyes gleaming with quiet calculation. "How many of you are there?"

The cloaked woman’s frustration flared. Snarling, she lifted her mangled hand, chanting under her breath. The ground shifted. Something cold and skeletal wrapped around his ankle. He glanced down to find bony fingers clawing up from the earth, gripping him like a vice.

So that was her trick. She didn’t fight with her own body, she used others. Corpses, remnants of the dead, stolen flesh, and forgotten bones. Human. Vampire. It didn’t matter.

Cassius let out a breath, the hesitation in his mind clicking into place.

"Alright," he murmured, voice low, almost thoughtful. "That’s enough information to bring back."

"I can’t hear you! Do you think I will go down without a fight!??" The woman cackled as she let out a loud roar, whispering in a ghost spell as something worse than a skeleton would now be summoned, yet before anything could come out from her mouth any further, she felt the blade that hit her teeth.

Her eyebrows furrowed, her hands rubbing her face, she realized that her lower half had been pierced through with five fresh fingers.

Her eyes moved backward in fear, meeting Cassius’s red ones.

"I forgot. I have to ask you where my Arabella is." But as if it didn’t matter anymore, he scoffed, "Well, I can find her better than anyone else."

When he pulled his hand away, the cloaked woman collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground as if her strings had been severed. It happened in a blink, no struggle, no last gasp, just the sudden, eerie stillness of a life extinguished. Her eyes, once alight with defiance, dulled into empty voids, the last remnants of her existence fading like a candle snuffed out.

Her face wasn’t anything worth noting, but there were a lot of odd symbols drawn on her body, making him to wonder if their body were perhaps different than humans and vampires, unlike the skinwalker.

He should have taken care of the bodies, checked the surroundings, and wrapped this up cleanly and perfectly, but his feet moved before reason could catch up.

They moved, then they ran.

Through the dark, past the scent of blood, past the lingering whispers of death. His senses sharpened, picking up the sound of sobbing, thin, desperate, laced with a fragile sweetness that dug into him like claws. It rippled through the air, a plea for help, and as if pulled by invisible strings, his body surged forward, faster, faster, until he dissolved.

Black, liquid, shifting—his form melted into shadow, reforming in a blink at the mouth of the well.

And then he heard it.

"Cassius!"

His name. A fractured cry. A voice raw with fear.

His hands flew to the well’s lid, fingers curling around the rough stone. It was heavier than it should have been, but it didn’t matter. With a forceful heave, he ripped it open and peered down.

Arabella.

Kneeling at the bottom, slamming her fists against the damp stone, her sobs echoing in the suffocating dark. Tears streaked her face, a glistening mess of anguish and dirt. Her reddish brown hair was drenched in mud, clinging to her cheeks, her trembling shoulders heaving with every broken breath.

Cassius had tested her before, teased her, tormented her. He had put her in harm’s way more times than he cared to count, watched her defy him with that fierce, unbreakable spirit—

But never like this.

Never this broken.

And for the first time, a strange weight settled in his chest.

Worried?

He?

He didn’t stop to think. He didn’t hesitate.

Before the thought could fully form, he plunged downward, straight into the depths of the well, straight into the unknown, straight to her.