you want it darker | michael langdon

chapter eleven; a moonless night.

"I mean you, you mewling quim!"

"Dad!" Julien screamed with fear as he watched his father's face turn purple.

"Michael, please!" Primrose pleaded.

Michael relinquished his hold on Jeff at Prim's request, the man dropping to the floor with a dull thud.

Jeff sat up and rubbed the red marks on his neck as he struggled to regain his breath.

"And you," Primrose felt her heart hammering in her chest as his attention turned toward's Julien. "Like father like son." He said, mockingly.

Primrose stepped forward, trying her best to appear commanding and authoritative. "Leave him, Michael. He's not the one you need."

"No, you're quite right." Michael sighed. "He isn't the one I need."

Primrose screamed as Michael grabbed Julien from behind, delighting in the way the young boy's body flailed against him in the most pathetic manner.

"He isn't the one I need because he feels remorse! An impossible feat for one with a black heart!" She desperately exclaimed, praying to whoever would listen that Michael wasn't so far gone that he would not listen to reason.

"He planned to fuck you, Prim. You really think I'm gonna let him live?" He laughed loudly and heartily, and it was the first time that Primrose had ever felt truly afraid of him.

She was slowly becoming paralyzed with fear and hopelessness, desperately searching her mind for a solution to this mess when she felt two strong arms grab her from behind.

"Let me go!" Primrose screamed.

"Not until your boyfriend drops the kid and agrees to negotiate." Jeff replied with his hand wrapped around her neck.

Michael glared at him, tilting his head and dropping Julien as though he were simply a bag of garbage, useless and in need of disposal.

Primrose winced at the sound of Julien's head cracking upon contact with the hard floor. She hoped that the fall was not fatal and he was merely unconscious.

"Okay, now... listen up, Langdon or princess gets it."

Primrose vaguely became aware of the cool metal of Jeff's dagger now pressed dangerously close to her throat. She considered using her magic to free herself, but alas, she was still untrained and any action taken at this precarious moment would have to be utterly precise. She wasn't even sure that Michael would be capable of it.

"You've had your turn playing the leader now for eighteen years, and what have you accomplished? Fucking nothing! It's time for you to step down, and let someone more capable take charge."

"Hmph," Michael scoffed. "I would, if I thought such a person existed."

"Hey, this isn't some joke!" Jeff raged, pressing the knife in slightly deeper to further illustrate his point. Michael's expression darkened as the tiniest drop of blood fell from Primrose's neck. "I'm demanding you to relinquish control immediately and go! Take your little harlot with you too!"

"Ah, poor little Jeff." Michael languidly fell backward into a plush, red velvet sofa. "Whoever said the meek would inherit the earth was wrong."

*Clunk!*

Primrose wriggled free from Jeff's grip as he fell the floor clutching the back of his head. Behind him stood Ms. Mead holding a brass candlestick.

"Ms. Mead! Excellent timing, as always. It would appear that you are the one variable his plan did not account for."

Ms Mead preened herself on Michael's praises. She then grabbed Jeff by the hair with one hand, the other hand detaching and revealing a concealed, robotic pistol, which she pressed against the back of his skull.