CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
" And I'm sorry I left,
but it was for the best
Though it never felt right
My little Versailles "

ANTONIA COULDN'T GET A GOOD look at whatever made the clicking. She could only see bits of Layla and the shadowing figure out the half-dead man on the table. She watched as it brought a knife down on the stomach and pulled down.

She almost gagged in hearing organs get moved around like wet clothing, the crushing of flesh and bone, hearing blood slush. The girl kept looking as saw the creature put an organ into the jars, right next to Layla.

Antonia's eyes widened in fear seeing Layla starting to try and as slowly and quietly as possible get away. That was when Antonia got a good look at the creature.

Its skin was unreconstructed, the body was bent in different ways, contorting in angles that were inhuman. Seeing from the dirtied but intact outfit, she realized that this was a Heka priest. The same ones that were drawn on the walls.

God, it terrified her.

Suddenly, Layla accidentally knocked over a tool, the old metal had clanked on the jars. The priest immediately clicked to action. It's body jumping right where Layla used to sit.

Without thinking, Antonia made a sound with her wisps, knocking down metal rods away from Layla. The creature's head jerked up and stood on the table. The light that shined made its skin a dark blue, almost to black.

It clicks louder and louder for recognition of anything. That's when it suddenly jumped up under to where Steven was. Steven's shouts echoed through the room, Antonia knew that he had been caught.

She burst through the tapestry and shot the priest down. "Run!" She screams, "Run, I'll find you!"

"Toni!" protests Steven.

"I'll find you guys! Just go, I can do this."

The two adults locked eyes, trying to figure out if the other trusted her enough not to get killed. After hearing the priest start to get up, Layla ascended to the first path. With a defeated look, Steven took the second.

The creature shrieks at the girl, it seems to practically roar in the tomb. It jumped to attack, before it could get its hands on her, her wisps held him by the head. She flicked her down and its head was pulled off of its body.

Its blood wasn't maroon but black, like ink. It splattered on her, as if a pen had exploded on her, in school.

"Mother fucker," She mumbled, trying to get the black off her lips, dropping the head.

More clicks were heard from the first path and entrance. Her hands glowed in gold, letting herself fly up, to get the high ground look.

She waited and waited, but nothing turned up. Her face contorted to confusion; it was now silent. It wasn't until hearing a rumble in Layla's existence that a loud click was heard from behind.

Antonia screamed in feeling a weight on her back, holding her too tight, as its nails scratched and imbedded the living hell out of her. From the sudden weight, she didn't recover. Her body fell down to the ground, her mouth ate dust and dirt.

The priest roared again, in the tomb. Antonia's eyes widened at the sounds of the others copying it.

She groaned as her wisps pushed her off of the ground, sending the priest to go flying off her. She turned and sent the priest flying to a wall with a large hook on the wall. She impaled it as many times as she could, sending it back and forward, until she made its head stick through.

Something grabbed her throat, she turned around and held its throat as well. Her golden wisps flowed through its throat, her hand clenched on itself, decapitating it. 

The seemingly last Heka Priest stabbed her in from behind. She screamed from the pain, seeing the tip of a knife point out of her stomach.
The creature threw her on the table, knocking over the already corpse on the table.

Its hand held her head on the table, she could feel the other person's blood paint her face. She yelled as the knife was taken out of her, making her use her wisps to get the priest off of her.

The creature roars and kicks around to be released. Antonia watched as she levitated the creature, and in a second, exploded to bits of molded pieces.

She took deep breaths realizing seeing that no one else would come. "Fuckin' bitch." The girl waved her hands over her wound, seeing her magic to the rest of the work in repairing her in no time.

Gaining more strength, she realized the dilemma she was in. Does she go to where Steven went or where Layla went?

She had remembered the noises that were coming from Layla's path, especially that blood from another was a no good sign. But she wanted to see if Steven was okay. Without Khonshu's protection, he was on his own, and he seemed serious when he said he wasn't giving Marc the body.

Then again, Steven and Marc both would absolutely murder her if she didn't check up on Layla.

Antonia quickly made her way to the exit, hoping to see a healthy, unharmed Layla.

When she was immediately left to a sharp edge, that led deep down into darkness, that didn't show what was at the bottom. The exit was on the other side, the only way she could've gotten there was by scaling the walls.

Antonia flew across the cavern to where the archway was and entered.

At this point, she wanted this adventure to be over. She had experienced claustrophobia one too many times, fighting Heka Priests that stabbed her, and was now wrenched in splattered black goo, with her red blood still there, despite the wound that had disappeared.

She entered a tomb, a nicer-looking one than what she had seen. She saw Steven and Layla there.
"Guys, this shit blows," She comments, "Please tell me——"

Antonia stopped.
The two looked at her, seeing her inked mess of an appearance.

"What the hell happened to you?"

The girl had realized from the American accent, that Marc was in possession of the body. What she noticed was Layla was wiping her red-tinted eyes, her cheeks glistening from the light, and her nose and ears red.

"Layla, are you——"

"Anni," Marc interrupts, "why are you covered in blood?"

Seeing that Layla was trying to hide what Antonia walked into, she knew best not to step over a situation she didn't know about. But it must've been bad, because this was the first time she had ever seen Layla cry.

The girl looked down to see the tomb had water, almost creating a moat around the pharaoh's coffin. "Is it disrespectful to wash this shit off me? I'm not trynna be haunted now."

Marc rolled his eyes and went toward the girl. He didn't hesitate to pick up some water with his hand and try washing it off of her.

As he helped her out, she explained, while washing off the black ink off of her. "Those priests were assholes. I was choked and stabbed——"

"Stabbed?" Layla questioned, stepping toward her.

"I mean, I'm fine. But fuck, this blood is awful. I don't think we should go the way we came from. I killed, like, 4 of those guys, but now I'm thinking about it, how do you kill what's already dea——"

A rustle was heard in the large entrance that had seemed to collapse for an opening.

"Clicking," The teen notes, but it seemed off.

"They're here." Marc gets up and walks to the open coffin.

"There must be another way out," Layla says.

"Okay. Go, find it, I'll hold them off."

Antonia saw Layla escape out from a hallway. Marc stood in front of the coffin with an untouched gold axe in hand. She twisted her head to crack her neck, having her wisps at the ready, and stood at the foot of the small steps to the coffin.

Suddenly, her breath stopped when seeing men with guns pointed right at them appeared in front of them. Antonia cursed herself silently, she honestly had forgotten about Harrow's advances to the tomb.

Yet there he was, the Scarab had pointed tight to it. "Just you two," He notes. The Scarab falls gently down in his. "The rest is silence. I remember the first morning I woke up knowing that Khonshu was gone."

As he stepped forward toward them, Marc grabbed hold of Antonia's shoulder, slowly guiding her up and behind him.

"The quiet is liberating. You're a free man. And, of course, with that freedom comes choice. And right now, you have a very important decision to make."

Antonia felt a tightness in her chest. Her powers were still active, staring at the many men who held a gun to them. She prayed to Isis that her powers could be enough for this.

"A decision that could get her killed." He mentioned the Vera. "And we both know, I would do what's necessary."

Antonia was engulfed in purple as she was thrown to the wall. Not making the same mistake twice, she turned herself out of the Sorceress form. No feathers were missing, she had turned before they could even touch her.

"She's not a part of this," Marc argues.

"Are you willing to add her blood to your ledger?"

Harrow released the dying feather out of the chain necklace. It flew toward her, the magic that held her had the hints of gold. She watched as the feather perished out of sight, gone from Harrow's control.

Antonia was helplessly restrained from helping Marc, to even helping herself. Something changed in her, she felt it like what happened when she was high on anesthesia. A part of her was missing, she couldn't feel Isis' presence anymore. She couldn't change back to help Marc if she wanted to, she was powerless.

"Let her go!" Marc shouts, "Just let her walk out of here."

That's when she began to panic. The guns pointed to her made her want to cry, her life was in danger, and she didn't have something to help her out. She wasn't invincible like the Sorceress made her, she was just a girl of flesh and bone. It didn't help that Harrow was silent, he couldn't confirm or deny her safety. He just stared at Marc, awaiting an answer.

The girl could feel Marc's eyes peering at her and at the escape that Layla went. He had choices, choices that could get them killed.

The man says, "Okay."

Arthur turns to one of his men. The man who still held a rifle to Marc approached him. Marc quickly grabbed the gun and hacked the man down.

Antonia's heart raced. She watched in quiet fear, seeing men go to try and stop him, but meeting the same axed fate as the rest. She didn't want to watch. She didn't want to see if Marc would get killed, but that didn't matter, because she couldn't look away. She was petrified and stiff, her throat started to feel suffocated. Her eyes pooled in anxiety.

When Marc threw the axe at Harrow, with him simply using his men as a shield. Her eyes widened.

Bang.

"NO!"

Antonia cried in seeing Marc's shirt slowly turned to red. He stumbled and walked back, while Harrow was slowly coming at him.

"Please, stop!" She pleaded, "Please, don't shoot! Please!"

But Harrow didn't. He purposely made it painfully slow in stalking Marc like a predator seeing an injured animal. No amount of pleading or begging could get him to stop, nothing was getting in the way of his finger to the trigger.

Marc looked at Antonia.
Suddenly, the fear of them hurting her had doubled. The fear of leaving her alone made him want to fight to live, and that scared him to death.
She would never know the guilt he felt in that moment, seeing her helplessly plead to this monster to save his life.
Despite him gambling her life for the greater good of the world, she still had enough love in her heart to care for his life. Maybe this love was for Steven, maybe she cried to save her neighbor, not him — the killer.

But Marc will always think the best of her — as she always did for him — he believed that she cried for the two of them.

"Marc! Marc, get up! Marc, get the fuck up——"

She screamed as a second bullet hit his body. From the impact, Marc fell into the water, and only a single splash was heard. Antonia thrashed her body to get to him, unable to. Her cries echoed in the hollow room, it could be heard from the very start of the tomb.

She wanted to be there, she wanted to be there at his dying moments; that was all she wanted to wish for.

But Marc would die surrounded by water. No Antonia, no Layla to comfort or be here with him.
The last thing they would hear was the sounds of Antonia's sobs, sobs that he couldn't help to comfort.

"I can't save anyone who won't be save themselves," Harrow states quietly.

"I'll fucking kill you," Antonia sobs, "I will fucking kill you!"

As a man pulled his barrel at her temple, Harrow stopped him. The gun was lowered and Antonia dropped to the ground. She cried on her hands and knees, her mind spinning as she reached the ground.

"Say your goodbyes," Harrow orders.

The girl didn't look at the man, only staring to the last steps Marc had taken. With her body shaking like a cold dog, she made her way over to the steps.

She sobbed when she saw the water turning red around him, his body floating lifeless. Antonia got into the water and kneeled, the water reaching her hips.

Her shaking head hesitated to touch his face. The face of a man who lived two lives, the face of a man whom she loved with all her heart.

This was the face of a man that people thought was her father.

Recalling the memory of Dylan calling Steven her father, Layla assumed she was Marc's daughter, a quiet sob escaped her mouth as she began to hold him.

She expected to hear his heart beating, expected to hug her back and to feel his warmth... but her expectations were never met. She listened to the emptiness of his body, his arms were cold and dead.

"Dad," She quietly calls to him, "Dad, please..."

Her tiny cries were like a pup grieving its parent, a baby fox walking into the empty den. Her heart had sunk into her chest, realizing that she was all alone. There will be no Steven to help her out when times are tough, no Marc to help her stop Harrow.

For the second time in her life, Antonia Vera had become an orphan.