h4Chapter 745: 745-Heart With Four Heartbeats/h4

    strongAuthor’s POV:/strong

    "My son is dead. My son is dead," she was crying on the call.

    "Calm down. He’s not dead," the woman said.

    "But he’s getting cold," Darcy yelled in tears. She had to blink her eyes nonstop in order to get rid of the tears.

    "Bring him to me, right now. I’m right close to your home," the gray woman said, instructing her to leave everything behind and bring Norman to her.

    Darcy did as the woman told her. She carried her son and rushed out of the mansion, leaving behind her passed-out husband and her crying children.

    Once she had taken only a few steps into the woods, the woman came to her. She took Norman out of her hands and forcefully made him stand, shaking his body. Norman started to open his eyes, but it was almost like his soul was leaving his body.

    "What I’m going to tell you will be hard for you, but you must do it," she said to Darcy.

    And Darcy, the way she was nodding her head, was in itself a gesture that she was ready to do whatever it takes.

    "I want you to bring pieces of your children’s hearts." As soon as she said that, Darcy’s eyes grew double in size.

    "We will make Normane to life. However, his heart will be connected to his brother’s," the grey woman told Darcy, excluding the fact that the misfortune would not wait for them to tend to the well to start filling again.

    Darcy had only escaped her children’s deaths past the age of ten. The misfortune was still lingering. And it was part of the misfortune that Norman would die, thene back, and live a life full of pain.

    However, it was also one more chance for Darcy to let it be, to let the natural process work. But she would not give up. She nodded her head and rushed back into the house to grab pieces of her children’s hearts after thedy had poured her own blood on Darcy’s hand. That blood would help prevent the children from dying when she took the pieces of their hearts.

    She first gave her children sedatives so they wouldn’t see what she was doing to them. Then, with a very scary look on her face, she started to push her hand through their chests. She was shocked how easy it was. But she guessed it was the blood of the witch that helped her hand pierce into the chest of her sons.

    She stole pieces of their hearts and then ran out of the mansion again.

    "Darcy," Lord McQuoid voiced as he started to get up from the floor. "Where is our son?" he cried, but she didn’t listen to him.

    She was disheveled. Her hair was a mess. She would not let her son die. The sons were supposed to grow old together. They were supposed to be the rogue kings of the North, South, East, and West. That was her next n. After her initial n failed, she wanted to be a proud mother of powerful sons, sons who would learn to grow and stick together and take care of each other and fight side by side.

    Once she was in the woods, she saw the witch carrying Norman.

    "Did you do it?" she asked and Darcy nodded.

    "Then do it quickly. He doesn’t have much time. His body is getting cold," the witch said.

    She forcefully held Norman up, trying to make him stand. As Norman began to open his eyes slowly before taking what would have been hisst breath, he watched his mother’s face get closer. Then her w entered his chest.

    "Your life is mine!" she said those words after remembering how much she had done for her kids.

    Sadly, he saw it all. Then she started to push the hearts against his heart.

    He screamed for the first few seconds, but the witch covered his mouth. Now he could only see his mother’s face, the look she wore like an evil viin as she pushed one heart after another into his chest.

    He did not want this life. He did not want to stay connected to someone by stealing their hearts and then feel all their pain at once. But Darcy decided it wasn’t his decision whether he wanted to live or die. She believed she should be the one making decisions for everyone.

    And just like that, once she was done, Norman’s little body copsed on the ground.

    "What happened? It was supposed to work," she screamed at the witch.

    "Don’t worry. Take him back home," the witch said.

    "He is dead," Darcy argued.

    "Just touch him. Hold him. See how warm he is now," the witch said with a smile on her lips.

    Darcy quickly held Norman in her arms. And just like the witch imed, he was indeed very warm. She began to smile uncontrobly when she noticed how regr his breathing had be too.

    "My son is alive. You alwayse through to help me," she said to the woman, who gave her a nod. Then Darcy left for her home to give the good news to her husband.

    When she arrived, she found her husband hugging their children. They had woken up and said something had happened to them in their sleep. Darcy didn’t care. She had good news.

    "Norman is alive. He is fine," she said.

    Lord McQuoid instantly got up from his couch and rushed over to snatch Norman out of her hands. He noticed his son was fine. He was just sleeping peacefully.

    "How did it happen?" he asked her. She gave him a proud smile.

    "I told you. The seer I know is very kind. She is better than the holy mother," she said.

    And for the first time, Lord McQuoid felt scared of his wife, even though she hade back with their son alive.

    Darcy then very lovingly took Norman back in her arms and began to walk away toy him down in his bedroom. The minute she did, Norman woke up gasping for air.

    "It’s okay, it’s okay, you are fine," she said, sitting down beside him and cupping his face in her hands.

    Lord McQuoid had chased after her, wanting to know how Norman hade back to life. He was certain Norman had been dying. His organs had shut down too. But when he arrived, he saw his son sitting up and looking at his mother.

    That sight was such a treasure for Lord McQuoid that he decided to stay silent for a while. He just wanted to feel happy.

    But then Norman said something that made both parents stare at each other and share a look.

    "There are monsters on the 10th floor," he cried, holding his mother’s hands. Darcy turned to look at her husband, her eyes filled with rage.

    "Who hurt him?" she asked. "How the hell did you not kill those people?"

    "Honey, there is no 10th floor," Lord McQuoid said, looking at Darcy’s confused expression.

    Norman began to feel deeply unsettled. He was certain he had walked onto the 10th floor. He had not fallen from the 9th to the 8th. He knew what he had seen.