Chapter 4 - The Petrifying Curse
By the time Violet returned to the grand estate house accompanied by Maeve, the heavy atmosphere inside Blackwood Manor had turned suffocating.
The walls of the mansion seemed to groan under an immense, invisible weight. Dust fell from the high plaster ceilings, and the magnificent crystal chandeliers swayed gently, despite the absence of any draft.
They entered the master drawing room. Julian was standing beside his mother’s brass wheelchair.
Victoria’s transformation was nearly complete. From the chest down, she was solid, unyielding stone. Only her head and neck retained the soft texture of human flesh, though her skin had turned the color of ash. Her mouth worked furiously, spitting venomous words at her son.
"Kill her, Julian!" Victoria shrieked, her voice sounding like grinding gears. "Take the ritual blade from the study and cut her throat before the petrification reaches my heart! You are a Blackwood! You cannot allow our fortune to dissolve into dust!"
Julian stood motionless, holding an ornate silver dagger in his right hand. His face was a mask of pale despair.
"She is your wife, Julian!" Victoria screamed, her eyes bulging with insane desperation. "She is a nobody! A common girl you brought into this house! Sacrifice her to the pedestal and restore your mother!"
Violet walked boldly into the center of the room, Maeve following close behind.
"Put the blade down, Julian," Violet said softly, her eyes locked onto her husband’s trembling form.
Julian looked up, his dark eyes filled with unbearable agony. "Violet... you don't understand. If the petrification completes its cycle on my mother, the blood covenant assumes the matriarchal line is dead without a successor. The curse will target you next. It will demand your heart."
As if responding to his words, Violet felt a sudden, terrifying chill seize her ankles.
She gasped, looking down.
A faint ring of gray stone was beginning to form around her left ankle, creeping slowly up toward her calf. The warm honey feeling in her veins was instantly replaced by a dull, dead numbness.
"It’s already starting," Victoria cackled, a horrifying sound coming from her half-stone chest. "The house knows! It knows there can only be one! Yield, Violet! Yield your legs to the pedestal or be turned into marble forever!"
"She won't yield to anything," Maeve declared, stepping forward and pulling the glowing silver vial from her coat. "The house doesn't demand a victim, Victoria. It demands payment for two centuries of stolen blood."
Julian looked at Maeve, then at the gray ring creeping up Violet’s leg. The hesitation in his eyes vanished, replaced by a fierce, terrifying resolve. He turned back to his mother.
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"You brought this rot into our lives, Mother," Julian said coldly. "You locked the woman I love in a chair for three years to preserve your diamonds and your tea parties. I will not let her suffer another second."
Julian reversed his grip on the silver dagger, turning the sharp point toward his own chest.
