Page 48 of Requiem
The video loads. For a split second, there’s nothing but static and dim lighting. Then the angle shifts onto him.But it’s not the Jude I know, or even the broken version I’ve been trying to hold together. This version of him is…unrecognizable.
He’s wearing that white mask we found in his jacket. My skin had crawled the moment Rafe pulled it out and we saw the blood smeared on it. I wonder how many people’s DNA is on that thing. He stands in the middle of a concrete room, the same one from the other video. His chest rises and falls rapidly, like he’s already been pushed past his limit. There’s blood on his hands. His hair is damp, sticking to his forehead.
And someone is on the floor in front of him. At first, it’s just movement. Something trying to drag itself away. Then the camera shifts, and I see his face. I clamp a hand over my mouth when I see that it’s bruised, swollen, and barely recognizable as a person anymore.
“????????.”
Alexei’s distorted voice slices through the video.
My entire body goes cold. Jude flinches. It’s small, but it’s there. A fracture in the control. And then—
He moves fast enough that my eyes struggle to track it. His fist connects with the man’s ribs, once, twice, the sound dull and heavy even through the phone speaker. The man tries to crawl away, fingers dragging uselessly against the floor, but Jude grabs him by the back of his shirt and yanks him up like he weighs nothing.
“No—” I breathe, my voice breaking, but I can’t look away.
The man is saying something.Pleading. The words blur together in Russian, but I don’t need to understand them to know what they mean. When he slams him back down, the impact feels like it echoes straight through my body.
Again.
Andagain.
Each hit lands harder than the last, brutal in a way that makes my stomach twist, because this isn’t someone losing control. This is someone who already did.
My heart is pounding so hard that it hurts.
Jude’s hand shoots up suddenly, ripping the mask off his face. It catches for a second, then comes free, dangling from his grip before dropping out of frame. When he turns for just a second, I can see his face. There’s nothingthere. No hesitation, conflict, or even a trace of the man who ever loved me. It’s like someone tore his soul away and left the body behind.
My stomach lurches. “Jude…” I whisper, but it disappears under the sound of another hit. This one makes me flinch, and the phone nearly slips from my hand.
The man’s voice cuts off. Just…gone. But the silence that follows? Worse.
Terror crawls up the back of my throat, and I have to swallow hard to keep from choking on it. The video glitches, the frame stuttering once before cutting to black. A sound leaves me, but I don’t recognize it. It tears out of my chest as if my fucking soul just ripped. My hand presses against my sternum, like I can hold everything together if I just push hard enough.
I’m gasping, trying to breathe. Trying to undo what I just saw. But Ican’t.
Because I watched him—
I watched him beat a man todeath.
Micah is already pacing. “This is everywhere,” he says, his voice cracking. “It’s already trending. It’s already—fuck.”
Heather shakes her head, her screen reflecting in her eyes. “They’re calling him a monster. Some of them think it’s staged, but…” her voice falters, “Most don’t.”
Nico doesn’t look up. “Three major outlets. And climbing.”
Rafe’s voice is quieter. “This is only the beginning.”
I can’t breathe, because it’s not just a video. It’s anarrative. And it’s already being written without him. My chest caves in as the images replay anyway. The way he moved without hesitation once the order was given. How his face looked like there was nothing left inside it even worth saving.
“Emma.”
Micah’s voice reaches me, but it feels far away.
I shake my head once.
No.
No, no,no.
