Isabella looked on with sad yet hard eyes. There was nothing she could to do save him now, even as it pained her to no end.

"I'm sorry." Her voice came out even, and her heart lurched as he looked up at her.

"Please-"

"There is no use begging. You and I both know that. You knew it before you did this."

His eyes cast off her to look over the destroyed village. There wasn't a surface free of the red splattering everything. There wasn't a place to look without seeing the horrified faces of the dead staring at him through eternally unblinking eyes. They were all dead, every single one of them.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." His voice was broken as he cried openly. It would do nothing for him other than make her feel useless pity that would taint her memory of him.

Isabella flicked her wrist, and watched his body, free of its head, slump to the ground. Blood seeped away, and she wondered how much of it was theirs- the dead of the village where she had captured him.

"It's never supposed to be like this." She told her dead child, and a tear slipped from her eye. Would she forever be cursed to never make a child that could withstand her blood? Would she never have companionship in this world?

Isabella turned, her dark eyes looking over the carnage her child had created. She bent, and picked up the body of the one she had turned and carried it to the village he had slaughtered.

She would burn it all.