The courtyard was shrouded in a haze of suffering, the air thick with the scent of burning flesh and the echoes of Peetas agonizing cries. Isabella "Bella" Swan watched in horror as the life drained from Peeta Mellark, his body broken and beyond recognition. Edward Cullen stood aloof, his gaze devoid of any humanity, as he surveyed the remains of what had once been a vibrant life.
"Ah—!" The scream was torn from Bellas throat, not just a cry of anguish but a howl of a soul in torment. The blood that had filled her eyes now spilled over, cascading down her cheeks in a river of crimson. It was not a trick of the light, nor a figment of her despair—her tears had turned to blood, each one a precious siren tear now stained red.
The onlookers, their appetites whetted by the grotesque display, were transfixed by the macabre beauty of the scene. Edward, for a moment, seemed to falter, his hand reaching out as if to stem the flow of her grief, but he stopped himself, remembering the depth of his hatred for the siren kind.
"Stop!" he commanded, his voice a whip that cut through the cacophony of pain and madness.
The fire was extinguished, and Peetas unrecognizable form was lifted from the pot, laid out on the cold ground like a broken doll. His final words to Bella were a faint whisper, a plea for her to remember a home that now seemed impossibly distant.
"Home, Ill take you home!" Bellas voice was a ragged whisper, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces within her chest.
"I want to go home," she repeated, the words a mantra against the pain.
But home was a place she could never return to, not after what she had done, not after the lives she had helped to destroy.
Edwards heart clenched at the sight of her, her body wracked with sobs that now produced only blood. He had not expected to feel such a pang of... was it guilt? No, it could not be. He had every right to his revenge, to exact his pound of flesh from the sirens who had destroyed his world.
"You think your death would stop me?" he hissed, his fingers digging into her arm with a force that would leave bruises. "Remember, your life is mine, and you will not escape me through death."
Bellas eyes, now a brilliant red from her weeping blood, fixed on the still form of Peeta. His last words to her were a faint whisper, a plea for her to remember a home that now seemed impossibly distant.
"Home, Ill take you home!" Bellas voice was a ragged whisper, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces within her chest.
But what kind of home could she return to now, with the weight of her actions hanging over her like a shroud? The death of Peeta was but the beginning, and she feared what Edwards wrath would unleash next.
Catherine Earnshaw, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, clapped her hands with glee. "Edward, lets give this sirens meat to the beggars outside the city. Its already cooked, after all; what a waste it would be not to use it."
Bellas eyes widened in horror. She looked to Edward, her unspoken plea hanging between them. Please, dont let it come to this. Show some mercy.
"Very well, as you wish," Edward agreed, his voice devoid of any emotion. "It is, indeed, a shame to waste such... delicacies."
Bellas stomach churned at the casual brutality of his words. The siren, once a creature of legend and beauty, was now reduced to a plaything for humans to torment and consume. She had brought this upon her kind, and the guilt was a heavy stone in her gut.
As Peetas body was unceremoniously dragged away, Bella was left with the echoing memory of his last words and the cold, unfeeling gaze of Edward, the man who had once held her heart and was now the architect of her despair. The sun, which had once brought her warmth and hope, now hid behind clouds, as if even the heavens could not bear to witness the atrocities unfolding in the courtyard.