WARNING FOR GORE

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THE BLOOD had dried, but even so, he knew it was painstakingly recent. Even that, however, as unsettling as it was, didn't compare to the true horror that had swallowed the room, and then spat it out again. Baba Jana's house was the belly of the beast, with pieces of flesh scattered on the floor. Despite the floor being black, Dimitri could still see the ebbing pools of blood, so dense that if he dared look down, he would've been able to see his own reflection in them.

Once, twice, he blinked, trying to vanish the sight away, before realising - had it been a witch, she could've vanished it away, couldn't she? He thought about it for a while, before looking up to meet the cobalt-glass eyes at stared at him from across the room. Nevena's lips curled into a dark smile as he walked towards her, nothing but a long tunic and some stockings to keep her warm. The fire had been put out hours before, judging by the icy cold that had settled in the house. Wind rattled the windows, the only noise apart from heaving breaths, weary in their nature.

He also realised that he was terrified. Had his suspicions been correct, he was facing Yaga's murderer at this very moment.

Nevena, slowly, carefully, took the collar of his shirt, clenching it between her fingertips.

"You know, I wanted this to be nice," she said the last word flatly, pulling the collar tighter.

Then, her face shifted, and the gaping scar was no longer there, replaced with silky skin, impossibly perfect.

Chernobog.

It was the only god that he prayed to nowadays. The saints had forsaken him, and the rest had fallen.

Only the Chernobog understood, only it helped him.

Chernobog, help me.

But even it did not respond.

"That's a pity, now, isn't it?" he responded slowly, doing his best to slip the pistol out of his cloak without her noticing. "What are you, witch?"

Nevena laughed, a brittle sound that held its own kind of enchantment. Her fingers left his collar and instead went to press against the wall, coming off completely masked in blood.

"I am many things, Dimitri. But mostly, dead." She crouched down, trailing her hands in the pool of blood at their feet.

"Monster."

She scoffed. "Not any more than you, my love. It is you, I recall, who saw your fiancée playing with a flower and summoned a crowd to murder her, da?"

Dimitri swallowed. "She was practising witchcraft. As are you. She killed my father. Left my mother to die. My friends. Both of you are monsters and killers."

"And you?"

"I am no killer."

Her bloody hands closed around his throat, face rapidly changing. The face that she now wore was frighteningly identical to Yaga's.

"When I killed her, I wore your face, Dimitri. I dug the knife into her wretched, perfect heart. I watched her wretched, perfect blood spill onto this floor." She nudged the puddle with her foot. "Would it shock you if I told you this was not hers?"

"WHOSE IS IT?" he suddenly roared, seizing Nevena's face and clawing at it. "Who else did you kill? Like a pauper, in this den?" he forced his voice to become calmer, trying to match the cool nonchalance that she spoke with.

"Not many others." Her eyes were the exact brown of Yaga's, but lacked the warmth. Yaga's eyes were a rich chestnut, glowing, always watching the light. Sometimes, they looked gold. Now, in this light, they were black.

"How many?" Dimitri asked.

Nevena's hair was amber, the exact same slight waviness as hers. The only difference between them was the expression - the one now on her face was one that never, even in nightmares, he'd seen on Yaga. Perhaps, it was all a nightmare after all, the Saints would go back to their old ways and he would go back to praising them.

Deep down, he knew that it would never happen, but he, childishly, still hoped.

"Only one."

He already knew who. Turning around, he eyed the creaking rocking-chair, stepping towards it as blood soaked into his boot.

Baba Jana.

She'd always scared him, but she'd still been kind. The old woman didn't deserve a fate like this, torn up, pinned to her favourite chair with a dagger through her throat. At her feet, there was a card, which he realised was one that he, too, recognised.

The Magician.

It was Yaga's favourite card, the card that always showed up in her deck no matter what. He picked it up, not caring whether Nevena dared stab him in the back. The letters were smudged with blood, but he tucked into his pocket nonetheless, before reaching out to the old woman's corpse. Jana had startlingly grey eyes, like moonlight. They were so pale that they were almost colourless.

He closed them and began to silently cry.

Nevena's face was changing once more, until it reached one that seemed vaguely familiar. With heavy, long black hair that almost looked drowned and faded golden skin covered in scars, most notably a jagged angry red one at her throat. Dimitri recognised that scar, because he'd been there when it had been created.

Carved into a child's throat as she thrashed and screamed, before the pyre was lit beneath her feet.

Though she was wearing her own face, it still was a mask. It was like a pantomime, with overly exaggerated emotions, now a huge grin that spread from ear to ear. Burns snaked their way up her legs, old and shiny, and he guessed that they went even further up. Though she'd survived the pyre, evidently she still wore its marks.

Everything about her spoke of a single word.

Cursed.

"You know, when I was a child, I loved you. But you never loved me. You were too busy focused on Yaga, like everyone else. How pretty she was, how clever she was, how talented she was, how kind she was, how lovely she was. And I sat alone while all of you sat together, laughing and playing.

The water listened to me, it gave me a home.

The water killed me.

I always hoped that I would marry you one day, that you would see Yaga for what she was - a cheat. No-one can be that perfect. But she was.

I was your first kiss, do you remember? You found me, all alone, and you took my hand and told me that it was all alright. That we would be alright.

You lied."

She dug her knife into his mouth, and he howled in pain, choking on his own blood. The pain blinded him - or maybe it was blood - but he could feel the wrench of his tongue being torn out.

Dimitri screamed.

He wanted to beg for mercy, but she'd rid him of the duty.

"All I ever wanted was to be loved, Dimitri," Her voice was a hiss.

She threw the tongue onto the floor, and he clenched his eyes shut.

"Do you want to keep your eyes?"

He groaned as she punched him in the stomach.

"Love me, and I kill you quickly. Deny me, and I take your eyes, then your nose, then your-"

Dimitri thrashed, but a wave of water knocked him to the floor, filling his lungs.

This is how I die, he thought, smacking the water desperately as he forced himself to cough it up, but the wave pushed him down. Milena pinned him down with surprising strength, crushing his elbows and hips with her hands and knees.

For a while, she just stared at him, but then her eyes flashed black and she leaned closer. Her breath was sickly sweet and unpleasantly warm, and she was so close that he could see the redness around her eyes where she'd evidently been crying, as well as the ragged skin around her lips and claw marks on her cheeks.

Then, she kissed him roughly, biting his lip so forcefully that it split. He didn't try to force her off, having already resigned to his fate. He knew that he was going to die at her hands, and he didn't fight it.

Maybe, after what he'd done, he deserved it.

Her bared teeth were becoming sharper, and then her mouth travelled lower, stopping at his throat.

"Goodnight, Dimitri. Tell your father that I send my greetings."

Then she began to count, slowly, making sure that he heard every word.

"Edno."

Her nails dug into his arms.

"Dve."

Her dagger trailed around his collarbone.

"Tri."

With the wickedly sharp teeth, she bit down, and so much pain erupted and Dimitri didn't know that it was even possible. He realised that she was ripping out his throat with her own teeth.

In the afterlife, he hoped that Yaga would find it in herself to forgive him.

"Oh, Dimitri. I forgot to mention something -" Milena nodded to another end of the room, and in his hazy vision, he thought that he saw her smile.

"Your Yaga is alive. Barely. But alive."

Then she left, the door slamming behind her, leaving him to die alone.

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this is my favourite chapter ever <33