21 comments/ 17518 views/ 46 favorites The Darkest Defiance Ch. 01 By: UtterlyUndone Good day guys! This story is geared toward action and storytelling at first rather than sex. But there will be plenty of it down the road, and hopefully it will be totally worth it since it will probably be (mostly) sex oriented and character-driven. I would also warn that this story is a bit dark. It will have buildup, but that is only to set the scene and tell a little bit about their world. Constructive criticism is welcome; I have a thick skin! :) Ambiguous negative comments, however, don't help writers or readers. Anyways, enjoy! U/U ***** God, the night was beautiful. I tucked my teleportation crystal in my bra, wincing at the cool mineral against my skin. I looked up at the calm blue, feeling strangely tiny in comparison to the small orbs that hung like wreaths in the ebony sky. Our three moons were out: Jabon, Cseris, and Demetri. They looked particularly massive tonight. Demetri hung like a dark blue portrait, large in size compared to the rest of her siblings. The stars blazed like tiny lit candles. I peered over the lip of the dumpster I was crouching in. I grimaced at a nice looking casino brightly suggesting the possibility of a jackpot using a god-forbidden-piece-of-crap membership card. A sign read: Buy a card today, and be a winner for life! Another sign blazed in the night, advertising a strip club a few blocks down the street. In the distance I could hear the static of bad radio reception stuck on a polka station. It seemed like the whole town was desolate...for the most part. What really caught my attention was the blazing houses that glittered in the distanced like lanterns. Columns of belching smoke rose from the city, creating a trail that led to the heavens. When I listened past the static and music, I could hear gun shots along with the high-pitched tones of a police car. I didn't have time to appreciate the beauty of Sheril, because it looked like Sheril was having a come apart. Literally. I frowned, looking at my partner beside me. His foot was stuck in a milk crate. He glanced at me, a bewildered look on his face. He shoved his crystal inside his jacket and glared. I shrugged. He didn't seem happy to be here. But then again, neither was I. My boss, Chad, sent me on a mission that would include a lot of money if I was successful. I knew this place had some issues, but I honestly didn't think it was going to be that bad. Something exploded, rocking the ground underneath us. A shadow—or rather, an object—fell from the sky and landed in front of me with a dull thud. It looked like...a foot? I just stared at it, not really sure why it was there. My brain didn't process it; it was just too disturbing. But when it did, though, the horror sunk in and all I could think was oh crap. Nausea twisted my stomach, causing my ears to ring. I peered over the edge of what I was hiding in, my vision slightly blurry. Holy living hell. My day just couldn't get any better. I listened to the loud kerplunk kerplunk of other body parts as they fell from the sky, hitting the street in front of me. Something else exploded in the distance, shaking the ground underneath me, rattling me around in the grimy dumpster like my partner's tiny brain in his stubborn head. That said partner poked me in the ribs, trying to get my attention. "I see it," I grunted, just about as incredulous as he was. I blinked at the neon lights of the casino. Smoke filled the alleyway we were in, threatening to choke the life out of us. I coughed and spluttered, pulling the end of my shirt over my nose. I pushed my partner out of the dumpster because he was way too close for comfort. He fell over the lip and crashed to the ground. I looked over the rim to stare into deep sea-green eyes that were livid. "What. The hell. Was that?" "An explosion," I said obviously. I threw a leg around the bin and jumped. "No, I mean, why the hell did you—" Somebody screamed in the distance, cutting his question off. Raymond probably was pissed off because our teleportation spell decided to spit us into the garbage. But it wasn't me who set the damn location; it was him, so I didn't know why he was angry. Out of all the places to hide—the roofs, the subway, the freaking convenient abandoned building next to us—why did he pick a dumpster? Sometimes I didn't get his logic. Or, sometimes I didn't get why he didn't think this shit through. I grunted and continued to stare at our beautiful moons, not wanting to take on this mission. But damn, that money though. "Shut up for a second, please. I can't hear. I think we are close to our destination." "And what exactly are we listening for?" I looked at him as if he were incompetent. But of course, I didn't tell him why we were here; I only told him where we were going. "Blatant screeching. Metallic groans. Blood-curdling screams. You know, that sort of thing." Raymond just stared at me, his brown hair twisted and snarled into the world's worst hairdo. His hands were covered in potion residue, and his boots were scuffed from catching himself on the asphalt from when I pushed him out of the rubbish bin. He twisted his lips and wrinkled his nose in abhorrence. His eyes were also unfocused for some reason. And he was still staring at me. I looked down at the origin of his gaze, and pulled my top up before my puppies tumbled out. For a moment I felt aggravated, but I had to remind myself that he was a guy, and guys liked looking at women's tits. I cursed myself for wearing a white shirt. "I can see your..." he began, looking away when I caught him ogling. "You can see my what? Nipples? Areolas? I know; it's bloody cold out here," I said, covering my chest and sighing. I really hoped he didn't gawk if I had to run. Because they did get a bit...wiggly when I ran. I wasn't too worried about giving Raymond a free show, mostly because he owned his own sex slaves, so I knew he wasn't desperate enough to come after me, nor was he sexually starved. Even though I packed a C and a nice butt in denim, not even he wanted a piece of this. Maybe because the last man that tried ended up hanging out of a three story window. And sometimes he had a bad habit of forgetting that. "You know, that may be slightly..." Raymond said, his eyes flashing to my chest and away, completely interrupting my thoughts. And his ogling pissed me off, because we were supposed to be focusing on not dying and succeeding on this mission. I smoothed my skirt over my legs and blushed slightly. It was way too damn chilly to be wearing this kind of stuff. "Distracting? Look. I don't want your shit...or whatever you think you have. Got it?" "Whatever I think I have?" He sounded offended. "I have plenty, thank you very much." He grabbed himself lewdly. "Right. Let's worry about something else, shall we? Maybe something like what the fuck just exploded out there? You picked a horrible place to transport to, by the way," I grumbled, picking off a piece of whatever the hell was in my hair. It was orange and sticky and just major ew. "Where else could we hide—" "Somewhere besides a dumpster?" "Oh, okay. The sewer then?" And yea, maybe he had a point there. Just as I was about to smart something off, we heard it: a loud, gut-clenching screech that made me fall to my knees. I pressed my hands over my ears. I grunted, sure that I busted an eardrum. Raymond fell on his back, writhing in agony. Birds scattered from the rooftops, melting into the night sky. Windows cracked and shattered from the nearby stores, popping shards of glass onto the street. When the screeching simmered down to a guttural yowl, I looked up at the bright moons above, wondering how I was still alive after that. My ears rang a high-pitched buzzing sound. What the heck was happening here? But I knew what was happening. And if we didn't do something about it soon, we were toast. "Bloody hell—" "You hear that?" I asked, listening to a car speeding off in the distance. We just looked at each other. He looked vaguely ill, and it was sort of hard to hear him after that loud noise. My own voice sounded like it was under water. "If you don't tell me what the fuck is going on right now—" "Are you an idiot? What the hell does that...scream sound like to you?" I asked, referring to the demonic screeching. I smiled a little bit, feeling rather good about myself. Yea, I might have dragged him out here without telling him what the mission was, but he sort of deserved it. And besides, if I would have told him, he would have declined the mission in a heartbeat. "It sounds like..." Raymond trailed off, lost in thought. Then his mouth popped open. "No...no. No. No, no, no. You cannot be serious. You..." Raymond seemed unresponsive then, his eyes bugging out and his face turning a deep purple. I found this funny, but I also found this a little disgusting. Shouldn't a man be better equipped for shit like this? "You were the one who wanted to check out the 'mysterious disappearances'. Didn't you happen to notice that all of them were female? You can't be that stupid, dude. I took the mission as soon as Chad offered it. Don't act like you don't know! You were the one bitching!" "You..." He repeated, stumbling back a step. His face turned slightly green. And then red. And then back to purple again. "You..." "That's why I told you to bring more Ammo...not that it would help." He blinked. I stared back, waiting for him to snap. I waited. And...waited. He seemed frozen, his face alight with blatant fury and confusion. I waved my hand in front of his face, wondering if he was in some kind of trance or spell. I muttered a few words under my breath, focusing my energy, making sure that he wasn't under a spell. But no, he was just really, really pissed. Yea, I didn't blame him for being upset. I only told him two things: here's where we are going, and here's the money for your trouble. My boss Chad was the one who offered the job, and I took it and volunteered Raymond without him knowing it. Chad was pretty angry at me for taking it; for one, I was a woman, and two, the creatures we were investigating loved to eat women. Needless to say, he isn't expecting us to come back. And apparently neither is Raymond. He charged forward. "You idiot! I didn't mean I actually wanted to take this mission! It's a suicide mission! Why didn't you tell me? You are so lucky you aren't one of my hapless slaves coiling underneath my feet! I would bend you over my knee and beat the living hell—" "Aw, come on. You know you wouldn't do that." "—out of you until you are a sobbing slop of—of—I don't know! Are you mad? Are you trying to get us killed? What were you thinking bringing us to a freaking—" "Don't say it. You know what happens when you say their names." "I can say it if I want to! It doesn't matter; we are so fucked. Bend me over, Chrissy. Fuck me over, Chrissy. Have your way with me, Chrissy. 'Cause it seems like you don't care! It doesn't matter anymore! How could you bring me to a—" "Don't name the creature. If it hears you, which it most definitely will, it will be here quicker than two jiggles of your slave Cheale's fun bags," I said, smirking a little at that one. His slave actually sold for half a million over them. When I first found out, I was surprised Raymond had that sort of money. And really shocked that he was that damn shallow. "I don't care anymore! And I can say it if I want to! Blaise! Blaise, Blaise, Blaise. Fuck it!" "Now you've done it," I said, hearing another scream in the distance. Raymond covered his mouth and looked around him. His face flushed. He grabbed a pistol from his trench coat, knowing that it probably wouldn't do him any good, and ran for the parked car on the side of the road. "Raymond! That isn't going to work! You can't hide in a car!" I shouted, knowing that yelling would only give away our location, but figured we were screwed anyway. "I am getting the heck out of here!" "No, you aren't," I said, running to catch up to him. I grabbed him by the jacket collar and shook him. He looked like he was about to shove me off, but something about my expression kept him from doing so. He turned white when he recognized my 'Chrissy is about to fucking lose it' face. "You are going to load your gun. We are going down that street, and we are going to see how many of them are here. We are going to help anyone we can. We aren't going to run away, because we aren't pussies. Are you a pussy, Raymond?" "There aren't such things as pussies when Satan's minions are after you!" "You know Satan is the dark lord of Earth. Newsflash: this isn't Earth!" "But you freaking drug me here, and—you asshole! You inconsiderate asshole!" Raymond shouted in my face. I tried not to laugh, because, well, he was so pissed he couldn't even come up with a good comeback. Just as I was about to shove him away from me, a loud crashing noise sounded in the night. The car Raymond was about to get in was now completely smashed, with some sort of body on it. I jumped back and gave a little screech, because it genuinely scared the hell out of me. Raymond's face paled a bit as he realized his death had been so close. I slowly walked up to the half-crushed car, peering over the top of the now smoking hunk of metal. On it was a body, probably female. Her face seemed fine, but the rest of her body was now unrecognizable. I covered my mouth with my hand, feeling the strange urge to vomit. I muttered a prayer under my breath. I looked at Raymond. "Well, it was nice knowing you," Raymond said, sounding defeated. He didn't appear too disturbed, though, and neither was I; we have seen some pretty grisly shit over the years. "We aren't dead yet," I reminded him, slowly backing away from the crime scene. "They should have been here by now." "Hm." "The body fell from that direction," I said, pointing down the street, my voice a tad bit sharper than what I intended. I ignored his question completely. "And I don't hear any more screaming, so that must be a good sign." Raymond glowered at me, obviously annoyed at my calm stupor. But I couldn't do anything about that, because according to everybody who knows me—which is only a few people because I am not supposed to exist—I am insane. Which, generally speaking, is damn close to the truth. In this world, there are three royal bloodlines: Rejourous, Arcadian, and Obsidian. Arcadian is the most royal, and there are only two of them in the whole universe that exists—they are related; one is the father, and the other is the son. And they are sort of Gods, too, so they don't appear very often, nor do they affiliate with any regulars like myself. Rejourous is the most common sort of Royalty, which would equal out to one being an Earl or a Duke on earth. (Not that Earls or Dukes exist anymore). Obsidian is considered the worst, simply because they are bat shit crazy and utterly ruthless. They are known for importing sex slaves from earth and doing all sort of deviant, sadistic little sex acts with them purely for their own enjoyment. They are sadists, and aren't too kind to taking orders from anyone. They keep their women on leashes—literally—and even host royal balls only for the rich and oversexed, chaining their women to posts and delightedly torturing them for entertainment. And here's the kicker: only males are born of that bloodline. There has never been a female Obsidian. Until now. Which was exactly why I had the world's worst attitude, and would be executed on sight if anybody knew what I was. Luckily, a guy named Chad (who is my boss) actually gave a shit about me, and took me in as soon as my father—Lord Jaron, the All Mighty Great and Powerful Whatever—secretly had me with the aid of some pretty freaky dark magic. My father had always dabbled into that stuff, and apparently a fertility spell backfired and out popped me. The council wanted to kill me and my mother, but Chad (who helped keep my father's sex slaves in check) ran off with me when I started hitting and biting the staff at age two. My father couldn't keep me a secret anymore, because I was wild and bloodthirsty, just like everybody else in my family. But I was worse. As I got older, it didn't get better. Hormones started to flow, and the need for sex and companionship grew. I was terrified, really, to get that close to somebody. So I took the lonesome road and made my handy-dandy Vibrator Plus my best friend. But even setting nine of ten couldn't satisfy me. Not emotionally, at least; I needed something more than that. I could never form relationships with people, mainly because I was cursed; that's why Raymond has never come on to me. The last time he tried something, it felt like a bucket of gasoline had been poured over my head along with a blaze of flames. I remember panting on the ground with him screaming and hugging the wall, wondering what the hell just happened. He started screaming at me, demanding that I tell him what magic I was using to torture him. It was the worst pain I had ever felt—worse than that time I broke my butt bone falling off my motorcycle. And breaking your backside knocks the breath out of you. I went to a Dark Magic user named Felajo to figure out what was going on, and he said I was cursed. When I asked what he meant by that, he told me that somebody had placed a hex on me so that whoever I have physical, sexual contact with, would feel the worst kind of pain imaginable. He pondered over whether my father did it when I was younger so I couldn't procreate and make any more abominations. But he said masturbation was my only outlet, except that Obsidians are naturally very sexually active, and he gave me about a year before I caved and tried again. So needless to say, I've been everywhere to try to lift the curse. There's this one guy in Juli, who supposedly knows how to rid of powerful hexes, but for the right price. Which was exactly why I took this job. "I don't care where the body fell from. I think our best bet is to stay indoors—" "And do what? Twiddle our thumbs?" I asked. "You are impossible," he grumbled, stalking off in the other direction. I followed him, scanning the rooftops for any source of movement. I could hear my heart beating now that my calm had worn off. I gritted my teeth, cursing myself for cutting my hair too short, because my bangs fell in my face and hindered my sight. But what I saw was what I expected: random streaks of blood leading into houses, flickering street lamps, and the ever-present ominous haze of smoke. I held onto my gun a little tighter, feeling my palms tingle and become clammy. I bit my lip and concentrated on remaining composed. I could hear Raymond's harsh, uneven breathing beside me, juxtaposing my now calm intakes of breath. "Chad said he wanted us to take a look at this place. He suspected it was the Bl—the creatures causing the mayhem, but he wasn't sure if it was some kind of mass hysteria. Now that I've heard the screams..." I trailed off, pushing my jet black bangs out of my face. "Do you think they will..." Raymond swallowed and tried again. "Do you think they might not kill you?" "What?" "The Blaises. I know they prey on women, but don't you think they might not kill you? Or be, you know, reluctant to do so?" "Are you stupid? What don't those creatures kill?" The Darkest Defiance Ch. 01 "No, I mean...they haven't seen anything like you before; you are a female Obsidian. You smell different, and your power feels different too. You aren't normal." "Blai—those creatures kill females. They eat them. They are demons, Raymond—a curse sent from a pissed off god bent on ending the Three Shades. What better way to do that than create gruesome monsters that munch on their women? And if you haven't noticed, I am female too. Which means the second they see me or catch whiff of me, they will skin me alive and eat my organs." "No need to be evocative. I am just saying, though. Don't you think they might check twice?" "They don't think, Raymond. They don't speak. They aren't going to be shocked, nor are they going to be reasoned with. You know this." He pursed his lips, now pondering. "I wonder if they have come across someone like you, then. They have been around for millions of years—hell, their leader has been around since the dawn of time." "Don't speak of him; it brings bad things." "I am just saying..." he said again. "Haven't you ever wondered why Blaises are always male?" "Dammit," I said, ready to smack him upside the head. Since I didn't hear anything charging after us, I decided that saying their names might be just a superstition. "Of course they are always male. They don't procreate, either—I don't even think they...never mind. They are created from fire and ash—their Leader, Terris, creates them himself. They are the bane of evil, the very abomination that—" I broke off, grunting as I realized I just slipped the big gun's name. "Yes, I get it. They are evil-woman-eating-dark-magic-bearing-demons. Which, in a sense, means we are fucked. Correct?" "No. Not quite. Chad said there was a disturbance in Terris—the land of fire that they live in. Something is stirring them up—pissing them off. Which would explain why they are hunting again. My guess is that they are really pushing to end this world's existence. Who knows?" Just as he was about to reply, we both heard a growl. Not like a feline growl or the growl of a canine, but something darker, abysmal, and sinister. The hair at the back of my neck stood straight on end. I grabbed my gun as I heard my blood pound in my ears. Whatever was out there was watching... And it wanted to kill us. But not just us—me. I could feel the hate pouring in waves from this black being. It was in the shadows at the end of the street. Its power shot through me, causing my blood to boil. I became nauseous as I picked up some of its thoughts. It was incomprehensible and tainted with copper; churning and burning with the need to destroy. It even made me hate—it made me want to grab the nearest person and shred them apart. Then, when the animosity burned off, I felt nothing but absolute horror. I felt to my knees, gritting my teeth and hissing like an animal. It seemed as though my legs had stopped working. Raymond was beside me then, trying to get me up. But I couldn't get up. I was about to die. "It..." I spat, unsure on what I was about to say. "Get away from here." "Get up! Come on!" "It's close. It knows I am here. It smells me. Run as far as you can run. We should have done a damn shield spell to hide our scents! Go!" The air around me turned red, shimmering like the heat on a summer country road. Raymond choked and fell forward, his eyes rolling back in his head. He fell to the ground, his head encountering the asphalt with a sharp smack. I clawed at my ears when I heard another god-awful screech, just counting the seconds I had remaining in this world. I should have been dead by now. I close my eyes, waiting for my doom. A flash of regret burned through my being. It was stupid to come here and Raymond was right. But I have always been known for doing the most dangerous thing, maybe because nobody would give a shit if I lived or died. Nobody would miss me. I'm an abomination—something that shouldn't even exist. With my head bowed and my hands pressed on the ground before me, I heard footsteps. I didn't even look; I knew what was there. It was a Blaise, of course, coming to take my life and satisfy its need to kill. The closer it got, the more my skinned burned. It felt like I was slowly being roasted alive. "Aculous em parte ne mӑson d freit," a deep, growling voice snarled. My instincts told me to run, that I was the hunted as well as the prey. For a second, I felt shocked. Did it just speak? How? Was that even possible for them? "Get it the fuck over with," was all I said, wondering why it hadn't killed me yet. As soon as it had caught my sent, it should have went into a blood frenzy until I was dead. I peeped up from under my eyelashes when it didn't respond. What I saw was utterly astounding. I had never seen a Blaise in my life but I have heard stories: that they are utterly ruthless and fearsome, but appear as human. That they are incredibly attractive—one sure way to lure in a woman just so they could kill them. I gazed at this being, feeling my gut flip, my joints locked in fear. It was pale but tall; willowy and built like a runner or a fencer. Its eyes were completely black, void of the whites, and its hair was dark and stuck to the side of its head which was matted with blood. Its teeth were about three inches long and thin like needles. Its body was covered in dark tattoo-like swirls that were the mark of the demon. It growled, its lips turning up into a grin. "I'm right here!" I shouted. It growled when it heard my voice; it hated it. It wanted nothing more than to kill me. But something wasn't letting it. Or rather someone. "You. Are. The whore." I just stared at it, unable to look away. I was the whore? What the hell did that mean? And it spoke English? "Why haven't you killed me yet?" I asked, now knowing that it could understand me. It obviously wanted something, and was trying very hard not to kill me. It spit on the ground, and as it did so, the ground started to sizzle. It knelt down and sat on its heels, cocking its head to the side. I caught sight of something: a marking on its neck. I wracked my brain for what that could have meant. Maybe he was the leader of the group? That would explain why he had more markings than a regular Blaise. But he wasn't Terris. Because if he had been Terris, being this close to him would have killed me. That, and Terris never left Terral. This Blaise must have been higher up the scale and very old, therefore giving him more self-control. "Stand back, creature. I want nothing of you," I said. "Chrisssssssy. He has long waited for your return." I grimaced at his voice. It wasn't a voice really, but rather a growl. "Who is he?" I asked, knowing that it probably wasn't going to kill me. If it wanted to it would have done so by now. And how the hell did it know my name? Maybe Raymond was right; maybe they didn't know what I was. It leaned forward, its face twisted in disgust of me. "Your master." My blood went cold. My what? I found myself unable to move or reach for my gun. I would have shot it in the face, not that it would have done any good. I glared at it and felt like a kitten in comparison to intimidation. It felt utterly unreal that I was having a freaking conversation with a demon that should have slit my throat by now. "Only I know. Only I see. Only I was to seek you out." "Well, you sought me out," I said, just as my head became dizzy and my mind began to race. I fell all the way forward, unable to move my muscles or support my weight any longer. My eyes closed and I heard roaring in my ears. I patiently awaited my death. Everything went dark. **** I woke, my head splitting and my body hurting. That was a good thing, because pain meant I was still alive. I opened my eyes, unsure on what was happening or where I was. I coughed once, and leaned to the side, my eyes stinging. I rose, startled to find myself in a bed. In a bed? But it wasn't just any bed. It was a bed about seven feet off the floor with a small set of stairs leading up to it. The covers were silky and golden, and sparkled with some kind of expensive thread. The bed was luxurious. The wood cracked and chipped, showing its age beautifully. I was in a circular room with a low-hanging chandelier with walls covered in large mirrors. The ceiling was high and arched, painted with pictures of angels. The floor was dark green and white checkered, and had ribbons of gold flowing through it. A large window casted an orange light onto the floor, as did the candles that lit the room. I looked down at myself, and everything was mostly intact. But something was off about this place...severely off. I hopped off the bed, swaying a little, stepping onto the cold floor with my bare feet. It seemed as though somebody had removed my boots. Thunder rolled off in the distance somewhere, shaking the floor and walls. I walked to the window, my brain fuzzy. I peered out of it, stunned. The sky was black. Lightening flashed in the sky, but it wasn't regular lightning; it was dark red in color. It appeared to be snowing, too, but it was way too warm for it to be snow. A flake landed on my hand and I brushed it off, only to find out that it created a dark grey smear. Ashes. I looked over the lip of the window to find that I was very, very high up in a tower. Down below there was black rock with veins of fire and lava. Smoke filled the air, smelling of thick ash and Sulfur. Sweat beaded on my upper lip. My conscious told me that I was in a very bad place. I looked around, frightened, now knowing where I was. I was in Terral. But why? Why would they take me here? Why didn't they kill me when they had the chance? And who were they referring to about 'your master'? How could they stand to have a woman in their midst? Well, it appeared that only one Blaise knew of my existence besides Terris. Only I was to seek you out, that Blaise had said to me. Said! But if he had specific orders not to kill me, than that meant his leader knew I was alive. And his leader could only be one person: Terris. Which made no goddamn sense at all, because why in the hell would Terris care about anyone? He was a Demon Lord for crying out loud. He was ten times more dangerous and certainly more animalistic than any other Blaise. I closed my eyes and pictured him as a hissing mass of tentacles and teeth, crouching in the corner with legs and arms jammed in his mouth. Who knows what he looks like? According to popular belief, he is the farthest from human, and his blood is so potent with evil that he is vile and twisted in appearance. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that he wanted me alive for some reason. But why? I thought about jumping to possibly end whatever pain and misery they wanted to inflict on me, but knew that wouldn't help the situation. Apparently Terris wanted me comfortable; the nice bed and shelves full of dusty books proved fact to that. Actually, I was pretty impressed that they had that sort of intelligence to read. Could they read? Did they have their own written language? And did they actually sleep in beds, or was that just...for show? Didn't they live in a hole in the ground or something? That was peculiar, because what savage creature needs a fucking pillow? I pursed my lips, extremely confused. Basically everything I thought about Terral just came apart at the seams. It appeared as though they lived like humans. Well, maybe the ones up the social ladder did, and the lesser ones were more...vicious and actually did live in a hole in the ground. I backed away from the window, looking around the small room. I walked around and searched for a way out. There seemed to be stairs that curved and led to a door, but the door was locked. Of fucking course. On my way back to the bed, I grabbed a book from the shelf. I dusted it off and opened it. Of course I couldn't understand a word it said; it was written in their tongue. So it seemed they were civilized enough to make a literary piece. I tossed the book aside and sat on a small, delicate looking couch with pillows that were coming apart at the seams. The brown woodwork on the frame was chipped and scratched. The carpentry of the room all held the same theme: ancient and delicate, but stunning with age. I tried to reach out with my power, but found I couldn't. My fifth sense was utterly useless here; it was like the Dark Magic was sucking it dry. I wondered where Raymond was, and if he was okay. And I couldn't feel him anywhere. I held my head in my hands as I tried not to panic. I needed to get the hell out of here. I lifted my head. On the table in front of me was a piece of paper. I picked it up, hesitant. I opened the folds and found that it was written in English, but done so with beautiful strokes of ebony. Only a careful hand could produce such majesty with a pen. I read quietly to myself, shocked that it was addressed to me: Chrissy Angelica Morrin, As much as it troubles me to see you utterly alive and breathing with your heart ever-beating, I must imply that your existence is necessitated. I would strongly advise you not inflicting any self-harm, as your kind so often does. I would also fret about looking for an out; these doors are locked, of course, and it is such a long way down that I fear you may not endure a fall. I would also enjoy the accommodations I have so vibrantly supplied you with; you are living rather lavish, wouldn't you say? It was not my idea, of course, but your kind is so fragile that sticking you in my dungeon wouldn't do me any good. You see, we aren't so different from one another. The world utterly hates us both. And fear not; I plan not to destroy you, as much as my existence voices me to do so. But I am sure you are conscious of our nature. I have a plan for you, and it sickens me to the very core to carry it out; I find you abhorrent, distasteful, and dense. But you are also needed for a plan that will utterly befall the empire. Or, in a sense, save it. You shall receive your means of nourishment this evening; you will be supplied with the basic food that your kind needs. Also, I would advise that you cleanse yourself in the bathing room. We don't need my underlings to catch whiff of your feminine stench and climb the tower to kill you, would we? To them, you smell like an evening's feast! And it would just break my cold, dead, non-beating hearts! Until we meet discontentedly, Lord Valsile Terris U Vedin. * * * * * Hey guys, so that is it for now. Leave a comment and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!