All four of them moved at once, rushing up the stairs.
The moment they crossed into the upper chamber, the smell hit them.
Blood.
Thick, coppery, overwhelming.
The enormous room, once lavish, once alive, but now it was nothing more than a slaughterhouse.
Bodies littered the floor in grotesque stillness. Some lay slumped against velvet couches, heads cleanly severed.
Others were collapsed over tables, arms still wrapped around drinks that had long since spilled.
There were pairs frozen mid-embrace, lips inches apart, passion interrupted by death so sudden they never even understood what had happened.
Even the officials from the holy church were butchered.
The cuts were precise.
Too precise.
