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“𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐞?”
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ «𝐂 𝐔 𝐑 𝐒 𝐄 𝐃» ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Luciano Alfonso Dante
I TAKE pleasure from other's pain. I don't care about the pain of my victims but instead, I enjoy how crucial they feel. My goal is the collapse of my victim's esteem. I wait to smell the scent of blood, the pleasure in that is inexpressible. And the taste of the fear in that blood is delicious. The fear and anguish provides just as much euphoria as ejaculation. When there's no fear or anguish in my victim's eyes I feel bored. Hence, I move onto a new person with better fear.
I play into a different desire: to pull the king off the hill. And by King I mean, the downfall of the Mighty Lycan King. With every scream of agony that I hear from my victim is my achievement, I feel more and more alive. However, this doesn't last for too long, sadly. The same screams and the sound of blood oozing out becomes less satisfying so I jump onto my new victim. Slowly, the acts become more devious and degenerate in nature until it completely devolves.
Honestly speaking, I don't have to hurt you or collapse your self-esteem or your courageous act. I just need a reaction. A reaction that clearly indicates the fear in your eyes infested by me. I want to see you fall on the floor before me and beg for death. For me to feel in such a way is a rush that constantly courses in my body, in my veins and all I feel like is to unleash the inner monster.
I am surrounded by many people here in the castle and it's difficult for me to control the inner urges. All I want to do is jump on a person and to claw their eyes out. I want to display their drops of blood. I want the scent of their blood to be so clear and so disgusting. I want their heart in my hands as I chew and devour each and every part out of them. So you see, it's difficult, so difficult to constrict myself.
Poor Vincent. He doesn't even know that I was the one behind his pack attacks. It was me who used to send my wolves to the Western side every month and kill twelve wolves. It was me all along. My wolves are just like me, infected and resistant to wolfsbane.
I still can't forget my father's death. It's glued in my brain.
"Vincentius, NO. Don't do that to him. He's all I've got. I beg you cousin." I begged in front Vincentius who had his hand clasped onto my father's neck and he gasped for air. My father's blood was sputtering on him yet he showed no mercy to him.
"He's gone already, Luciano. He can't come back now! Leave or else you'll see the sight of your dead father," He roared. Father was infected. He had vampire blood in his bloodstream. He didn't become a hybrid. He turned into something else. His inner wolf died and all he was left with was the urge and hunger for blood. He was turned into a monster. But I knew, I had hope that he would be cured.
"Give him a chance, Cousin. I will find a cure for him. PLEASE," I cried. My sobs and cries were of no use when I saw my cousin tearing my father's heart into pieces and burning his body to ashes. There and then I saw my entire world crashing to my feet.
I stayed there for months looking at my father's ashes, wishing he'd somehow appear from behind me and take me in for a hug. But he didn't. And on that day I vowed that I will avenge the blood of my father. I collected my father's blood that was mixed with Vampire venom. I went to hybrids and collected their blood. I went to witches and begged them to curse this blood into something which was disastrous. And when the correct potion was made, I drank it and become the worst nightmare to ever exist.
I waited for centuries to find the ideal moment to grace my cousin with my presence. Little did he know that the person who stood in front of him was nowhere near the old Luciano that he used to play with back when we were children. The day that I drank the potion was the day I died. It was the day when Luciano died and a monster was born.
I am no longer a werewolf because my wolf died the day that potion entered my bloodstream. Now, I have the constant urges of blood like a newbie vampire. I have a venom more dangerous than a snake's and I have an ability more than Lycans.
When I got to know that my Precious cousin has found a mate, I was joyous. I was genuinely happy. But, I was happy to imagine the taste of his mate's blood. How her heart would taste when I first chew it. And I am still waiting to see the look on my cousin's face once he sees his lifeless mate turn into ashes.
I am turned into something that can't die. And emotionally, it's an intense, mixed feeling of elation, adrenaline, and excitement. It's kind of a feeling one gets when riding a roller coaster that goes high up before suddenly dropping. That feeling of thrill, free-falling, as if nothing is holding you up.
I am currently imagining the sight when Poor Bellamy will beg for her life or beg for Vincentius's life. Of course, I am not that bad. I won't leave Vincentius to suffer alone. I will make Bellamy suffer too. She is just a pawn in the game. I visualize my plan and it's more pleasing to see your dream become a reality it's like a spark of electricity in my brain.
The pain of others is stimulating, whether I caused it or not doesn't matter, it catches my attention and I focus on it. I end up wanting to cause more of it. Damn, I can't wait for more now. I feel like implementing my plan right now and right here but I am going to wait.
I don't have a name for my monster but I like to call it Luciano, the same name as I am referred to. How funny is it to hear being called 'Luciano the Monster'. I have my own wolf army and I like to call them the infected ones. Of course, they aren't like me because they are still wolves. They don't feel the same emotions as me. Imagine feeling a rush, a thrill, a fascination. The source of the stimulus and drink in the sights, the sounds, the smells. It's intoxicating and exciting, the best rush, the absolute best.
I am what I am. That's what I know. I know that I am a Monster. How or why I am doesn't interest me.
▬▬▬▬♔︎▬▬▬▬
Chapter thirty!
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-blackburnfire
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