Blood Money
1990
With one hand quivering uncontrollably, and the other gripped onto a mysterious letter, Lia went up to her sister—she simply could not stand her betrayal.
1970
A muted crash thundered across the sisters’ house one night on Christmas Eve. Tall, bronze candelabras and candles toppled over like heaps of grenade, triggering the fire alarm as they clattered across the conflagrant carpet. Lia rushed out of her room, only greeted by a battlefield of fire. The entrance burst open to find a gang of cloaked figures darting in, all holding onto machines and gadgets weaponised cleverly. Without warning, they fired. The chime of birds turned into a screech as the bang echoed in the midnight sky. Lia froze on her spot. The sound of war slowly turned into her loud heart beats. Suddenly, a bullet hit the window on her right. The shattered pieces jabbed right through her arms. It felt like hundreds of needles, gnawing at her body from all directions. She painfully watched as her parents lay dead on the floor of her own bedroom. A blood-soaked dagger pierced right through her parents’ flesh, the muted roar of despair escaped their clenched mouth like an imprisoned lion, the shivering laugh of triumph from their murderers. With nothing she could do to help, she watched in agony as they gleefully took all their wealth and extracted their organs with immense caution. Leaving behind them a land of corrupted waste, an anguish memory carved in the sisters’ minds.
1990
“Why are you involved in the organisation after everything they did to us?”
It lingered in the air. The fiery statement stabbed at Syra’s heart like a burning needle. Tears trickled down Lia’s cheeks and landed with a small splash onto the letter from the organisation. Why did they kill people just to satisfy their own lavish heart with nothing but the intoxicating flashing coins and cash. Why did they heartlessly harvest people’s organs so they could sell them illegally on the black market, as if the only things that made them happy was killing and money. These thoughts crashed and bounced in her mind like a turbulent typhoon. Why was her sister betraying her when the organisation was why their parents were lying dead in their graves?
“I joined because we had no choice,” her sister began, breaking the tension, “I was there when they murdered our parents. I saw what happened with my own eyes. It affected me the same way as how it affected you. But we needed to let go of the past and look into the future. We couldn’t survive with nothing, so we had to start earning money, and quick. I had to join and I believe it was the wisest choice for the both of us, and the quickest way to survive. Please forgive me, it was my responsibility as your sister to make our lives better.”
“Better?”
She stared at her sister like she was seeing her for the first time. How could she. They would be earning money by killing innocents. Thousands of people would lose their close ones, just like they did. Her hands shook as violently as an exploding volcano, overtaken by her sister’s ignorance and selfishness. Her eyes fixed on Syra’s, trying to find the demon in disguise in her. She simply couldn’t imagine any of this happening, and most certainly not spending the money of the blood and tears of many, on themselves. Determined to end the organisation, she would make sure to let them face the same tragic destiny as her parents.
Death.