Surrender To Us, Our Luna (One Luna, Four Alphas)-Chapter 515-The Generation Of Creators

Yorick:

Things have escalated to new extremes, to the point where I never thought the outcome would be this bad. Now Joshua was running into my mansion, demanding to know about his lost love.

When he called and asked for Oriana and mentioned her as Suki, I realized she had never lied. She had been telling the truth. It was actually Suki in her body.

It made sense. How could I have been so close to the monsters my parents were creating and not realize she had been summoned? Suki had been summoned into Oriana’s body by the shadow earth eater. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

But more important than any of that was Joshua’s rage.

Flashback.

"What did you do to Rocco?" I demanded, staring at my mother.

I curled into my bed and pulled the covers over myself.

"You have seen those pictures we get from the headmaster’s grandfather, right?" my mother asked, reminding me of something I never wanted to be part of.

They had dragged me into this life, forcing me to learn things I did not want to know.

"Well, we picked a monster from one of those pictures and created it. Do not worry. He will be happy in the North," my mother continued, watching me as I squeezed my eyes shut and began to cry.

"Why do you and Daddy create monsters? Stop it. Please just stop it," I screamed, hating myself and hating my parents at that moment.

End of flashback.

What they did to Rocco continued. This was exactly what happened to my brother.

They had first injected him to make him powerful, but it turned him into a monster. Now they were suffering.

That was the truth they refused to admit. It was all their fault.

They were the ones. Generation after generation, my mother’s family, even her grandparents, had done this.

They created twisted monsters. My mother inherited that cruelty and pulled my father into it.

It was not as if he resisted. He was deeply involved.

I rushed inside, chasing Joshua as he lunged at my brother. My brother had drunk so much blood and eaten so much flesh in the last half hour that he had grown enormous.

That was the problem. His appetite kept increasing, which meant my mother would never know whether he was eating because he accepted the sacrifice or because he was simply hungry and trying to grow.

He was touching the ceiling now.

As Joshua charged at him, my brother swung his arm and hurled him against the window, nearly sending him to his death. Not because the fall was fatal, but because Joshua refused to let go.

He clung to the wooden frame and launched himself at Charles again. The wood could not harm my brother anymore.

My brother seized Joshua by the hair and flung him onto the ground again.

This time, I sprang at my brother and slashed his stomach. He glared at me, grunted, then back-slammed me onto the bed.

Joshua snatched the largest shard of glass from the floor and drove it into my brother. The glass pierced him, but it did not draw much blood.

My brother had turned into a skeletal monster. He was thin, his ribs sharply formed, his skin burned.

He looked ancient, a thin white beard hanging down his neck, but he was terrifying when he growled and howled.

My mother had run out of the room. My father lay unconscious beside the bathroom door.

Joshua was still trying to kill the one who had killed his lover.

"She was my everything. I did so much to get her back. I fucking killed Mira for her," he shouted, his voice breaking as he kept striking.

He stabbed my brother again and again, wherever he could reach. My brother only wailed, twisted his arms around, and hurled Joshua aside.

That was when I understood what Joshua had just confessed. He had made his own bed.

Mira was dead, the most innocent soul of all. How could he have done that?

Was it some kind of sacrifice? Did he do it the way Oriana had killed a Lurker as an offering?

I learned the truth later because my parents told me. Of course they knew.

They were the ones who numbed the Lurkers. They were the ones who turned the werewolves into monsters.

Those creatures existed because of my parents.

I tried to rise, but my body felt heavy and I dropped back onto my ass, watching my brother in chaos.

My family was twisted. We were evil.

How were we still alive while so many had suffered because of us?

Then it hit me. What would happen once the council convinced everyone they needed crusaders to protect the mainland?

The Academy would rise again. My parents would begin creating more monsters.

The cycle would continue.

Someone had to stop it. That someone was going to be me.

I opened my eyes and stared at my brother. Then I looked toward the door.

My mother slipped back inside with a needle in her hand. She had probably found the right one to calm him and knock him out for a few minutes.

Her old belt lay somewhere in the room. It held different tranquilizers.

It had torn off when my brother attacked her. We were all drenched in blood.

My father’s fingers twitched. He was waking up.

I glanced at Joshua and tried to get up, but I was too slow. My brother had reached his limit.

He grabbed Joshua by the head and slammed him down, pressing his foot onto his chest and crushing his ribs.

"No!" I screamed, rushing toward my brother.

My mother was too slow. I tried to pry my brother off him, but he would not budge.

I spun toward my mother and ripped the needle from her hand, then leapt onto my brother’s back.

As I drove the needle into him, he had already torn Joshua’s head from his body, and blood splattered everywhere.

As I injected my brother with the tranquilizer, I slid off his back while he screamed in pain.

My mother hurried to him and knelt beside him, trying to soothe him. I found her belt on the floor, pulled out the tranquilizers, and moved toward her.

"What are you doing?" she cried as she saw me raise the syringe.

The last thing I remember before I blacked out for a few minutes was striking her neck with it and watching her collapse into sleep. Then I crossed the room and injected my father as well.

Now my whole family slept like babies, and I had to make the decision for them.