Slave To The Fang

6, Creepy and eerie

"I did a little redecorating once Lyra...died." Duncan explained as we got into a lit hallway and his words hesitated while his heartbeat picked up when he spoke of Lyra dying. I raised a brow but didn't comment on it. I looked into the hallway. Redecorating was an understatement. He had changed the entire place.

Where there had been magical items and a hallway of portraits of the ancestors and former leaders of the Ragna coven was now an empty walled hallway except for one large and very ugly picture of Duncan. I wondered how the other coven members had felt about it. Taking off a former leader's portrait and their personal items was almost like taking away their magical contribution from the coven. It must not have gone well. The man looked nervous but at the same time his ego was massive enough to fill the entire hallway. He looked smug about what he had done.

"I see." I offered simply. It was witch politics and the treaty of supernatural beings stated that I was not to get involved unless it affected me and the rest of the territory directly.

We passed more hallways, meeting more witches and warlocks here and there, some old friends of a sort and we acknowledged each other. The place was very different, having an off feeling attached to it but maybe it was just the change of the ruling bloodline.

We arrived at the room that I usually stayed in when I came here and there were a few slaves inside doing finishing arranging touches. When they saw me, they all bowed their heads, and rushed outside but not before saying "Welcome My Lord." I didn't pay attention to them and instead stepped into the room with Duncan. The magic here practically sung. The beat and rhythm of the magical cords in here were familiar and soothing. They had been a bit modified but I recognized the pattern. My mother had set up one of the ground magical wards in this place. The presence of her magic was comforting.

"I'll leave you to settle in my Lord. A blood slave will be sent up for you...." Duncan started to say but I interrupted him.

"Call a coven meeting. We have a lot of things to discuss don't you think Duncan?" I spoke sternly and the man halted, his face darkening considerably at the weight of my words. It may sound like I was looking down on him but he was below me and something didn't sit right about him with me.

"As you wish my Lord." He bowed stiffly, his hands wringing more. I watched the movement with interest. When he rose again, he paused, and then spoke.

"Will you need the blood slave before the meeting my Lord?" I thought about it. I had not had a blood slave in so many years. I had lost the taste for them.

"No. I shall take my blood in a glass. My men will need the slaves." I spoke and he raised both brows in interest. My expression dared him to comment on it but then he kept quiet, bowed again and left, locking the door behind him.

I made sure he was really gone and then sighed, running my hand through my head. My head was pounding like a siren was singing in it and my entire body was weary and exhausted. There was just too much going on. When would I ever have some sort of reprieve?

Lady Karayan had been out to get a new slave after her previous one ended up suspiciously dead when I left. They must be back by now. I still frowned upon the use of slaves but I was a leader and the South was already in too much panic at the moment. Banishing the use of slaves might spark a war. One I was not in the mood for.

Lady Karayan would be on top of things once she was back. She was not my second in command for nothing. So at least I was at ease on that front. I let out a deep sigh again and walked to the adjoining washroom.

'ordddd.....my Lord......' A croaky small voice whispered in my ear from deep within the troubled dream I had been dreaming and I woke up with a start. It was completely dark out and the room had been immersed in darkness. The voice was unfamiliar and I had had my fair share of spooky moments but for some reason, the hair on my body stood on end and I went into alert, my fangs aching to be released.

I waited for a bit...listening for the voice but I heard nothing more. That was strange. That was very strange. After my bath, I had fallen into a very deep slumber and that voice had woken me up. I ran a hand across my face. Just as I was about to leave it be, the voice came again.

'Find me my Lorddddd....find meeeee. You are not safe." The voice called out like a whispered echo carried in the wind. I stood up with a start trying to find the source. There was no one else in the room but me. Had I finally gone mad?

"Who are you? What do you want?" I called out into the nothingness. The voice paused and then that chilling feeling settled over me again.

"Find meeeeee." It spoke again. I was about to call out once more when the door opened and the face of a curly haired, dark skinned old witch peered through the door. The second she opened the door, the eerie stillness lifted from the room.

"Sorry for the intrusion. I knocked and there was no reply. The coven awaits your presence my Lord." The witch spoke with a small bow. I looked one last time around the room but the voice, the presence was gone. It was unsettling but I shook my head and nodded my head at the witch, dismissing her.

"I shall be right there."

Creepy voices...hmmm. We'll see. How are you guys? Sorry for the two weeks of radio silence. I'm trying for it to not happen again. I'm sorry.

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Corona Diaries day whatever: My friend had corona. He's treated now. Wear your masks people! Also, can you guys please help trend #EndAnglophoneCrisis on twitter? Thank you.

Question of the chapter: Would you rather bring back one person from the dead or be given a million dollars? I would take the money to be honest.

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