Slave To The Fang

16, Feeling again.

Hi. I would suggest you play the song 'Minefields' by John Legend ft. Faouzia on repeat as you read this chapter. I would tell you when the perfect time to play it will be. Preferably with headphones. It played an important part in providing me with inspiration for this particularly important chapter.

Kyryaan's POV

Lub

Dub

Lub

Dub

My eyes opened with a start, my heart beating sluggishly, almost inexistent in my chest and everything came to focus. Last night, I had drunk some blood but ended up taking a bottle of whiskey with me to bed after my bath. I wasn't sure exactly why but I couldn't get rid of it. That feeling that something was different. I was for lack of a better term, obsessed with it.

It wasn't particularly easy living a life where you breezed through without feeling much. Then imagine yourself as that person and you find some semblance of feeling and yet you have no idea on where to pinpoint exactly where it's coming from. It was torture. Knowing that there was something so tangible in the air, like a lifeline dangling temptingly close to me and yet I could not just reach out and grab it. It was increasingly frustrating.

I had finished the whiskey not long after but I just lay in bed, thinking, willing myself to fall asleep. One thing was strange too. Lady Karayan had not come to see me yet. I say it was strange because even though I had not taken her to bed in over three years, she always came to see me when I came back from travelled. It's not like I missed it no. It was not strange. I doubted Lady Karayan was in love with me. she used to use my body in the same way that I benefitted from hers. Until I didn't anymore. I don't know exactly when I stopped but I just stopped. I had never had any deep feelings for her. She was my second and the first person I had ever turned and that was it. Our sexual relationship had been a mutual benefit sort of thing but for a long time, just like everything else, I stopped feeling.

I sighed and scratched the top of my head. It was in a buzz cut which I preferred these days. I wondered how long it would take for me to lose interest in it as well. Dark and moody just like my father's: El Diavolul. I wondered if my brother up in the north: Lucien was still feeling the effects of El Diavolul's reappearance five years ago. I had not been there and yet it still affected me. Our father was not exactly the best. Maybe one day, if someone was willing to listen, I would tell them my story. The story of my father in my own point of view.

I got out of bed and walked towards the mirror on the edge of the room. I was barefoot and I felt the cold beneath my feet. It was spring now but winter was coming not long from now. The chill had already started setting in. The first two buttons on my shirt were open and the shirt just hung lightly on my body. I paused in front of my reflection and took in a long, lungful of the frigid air. I got my blade, some shaving cream and a rag.

I dragged the sharp blade to my throat. I had been cut, stabbed, hit, and almost killed so many times but as I stood there, staring at myself with the blade at my throat, I wondered what it would be like to just cut it. Of course I would just bleed out and not actually die but wouldn't that be feeling something?

I shook my head and took away the blade from my throat and applied my face cream instead. What was the point? After a while I was done shaving.

I cleaned my face, took a bath, dressed up and left the room. It was bright out already and the mansion was alive with activity.

"Good morning My Lord." The guards on the end of the corridor leading to my room greeted as I passed. I nodded, the mask of the carefree Lord stepping back into place.