The brotherhood all take their part in drinking my blood to begin their torture of taking my pure soul from me, preparing me for Darc's turn. Horace supplied the 'Nerve killers' which was some kind of special venom they could excrete into their victims. I can't feel any pain, but I can feel a different kind of strange pleasure from my soul itself. Free of the weight of gravity.
Solomon and Fane have their fangs in my wrists, Ash drinks from my inner thigh, his face boldly between my legs. Horace bites hard into my ankle.
Darc watches on with his fingers in my hair, brushing the wet strands off my face.
I was sweating, my body reacting, even though I couldn't fight.
I had my memories back.
But this was the price.
"Enough," Darc speaks to his brothers, but as they pull away from me, I watch the wounds spill some silver blood and then seal shut with my angel strength.
Even though it's a quick healing time, it's still horrible seeing my essence being taken by such demonic creatures. They were all lost to a life of taking from another. Of living off other's souls.
Darc unties my wrists and I still feel nothing, even as he picks me up and carries me to his personal room in the Crypt.
My head lolls back as he lays me down on a hard and large metal table.
This bedroom, wasn't exactly that.
They didn't need to sleep, so even though Darc was a specialist in dreams, and the dreaming plane – he owns his very own torture chamber. To interrogate their enemies, but now I am simply laid out naked before him in a room of hell.
Darc is casually standing between my legs, his clothes still on – as he leans over my face and grabs my chin, pushing my chin back. His cheek brushes my jaw as he dives into kiss my neck. He stays in one place, and when I feel my heart beat harder – I know he is actually drinking my blood, I just couldn't feel him dig in to taste.
I think I'm going to die briefly again like I did on that sacrificial alter in the Temple of Distortion, but out of nowhere, something enters my system.
A wave of his own bloody magic – pulls me into another place.
A dream.
I'm in a black space with endless nothing, no sound, no temperature, just nothing. I feel like I'm floating, which is nice – and I'm not alone.
Darc is right there with me, dancing flush with me, his hand on my waist, and his long slender fingers holding my hand up high as he spins us around, dressed as a teacher once more. It's how he identifies himself. A teacher.
I remember his passion in guiding students, it's one of my original pulls toward him, such a typical quality of a guardian angel. And he needed my help now.
It's such a pretty illusion, as we twirl around and he guides me, while I tilt my head with a question.
"Look up," Darc suggests.
I glance upward and I see a single star in the black sky.
"What's that?" I wonder.
"The only thing you need," Darc sounds adamant about that. And what is that? "I'll be your guide in the dark, Wynter."
I finally look back down, from the flickering little light, into Darc's red vampiric gaze.
Evil.
And comfortable with it.
"I'm at your mercy," I correct him, "Aren't I?"
"You were victim to the rot," Darc explains, "...but I'm not rot..."
"You were an angel, now you serve death... but you also tarnish what's good – like me. You're trying to tarnish my sheen."
"You were already dead. He killed you," Darc cuts me off, "Once you acknowledge it, you'll let the light go."
"I do acknowledge it..." I whisper, "It's not like I can deny it."
"No. You don't see it, you can't even handle thinking about it – but you must accept it. In all the chaos of your death, you were sent to me," Darc speaks fluid just like I remember from in the Upper, disguised as a history lecturer in my university. He knows things. But does he want to protect me, or simply use me? Hmm. I shouldn't get confused with him. He was good at weaving stories, "Now we're intertwined."
"You just want my virginity," I go back to basics, that was a fact that was easy to understand.
"I'm only drinking your blood right now," Darc smirks, and his fangs are r –.
"...red..." I whisper.
Red blood.
No.
I pull from his arms and I rush back up to the surface.
Darc has pulled his fangs from my neck, but this time – I'm not delirious.
I'm able to fight back.
I've pushed him back from me with a scalpel in my hand that I've picked up in my unconscious form.
It presses to his throat but doesn't cut.
Darc holds his hands up in surrender, while his chin drips with silver blood.
"I saw red blood," I whisper.
"You were falling," Darc explains, "Then you resisted."
I'm so sick of his slow torturous game.
"Just take my virginity and get it over with," I hiss, throwing the scalpel aside and parting my legs crudely, "Go on, since we agreed – stop delaying."
"Why are you angry?" Darc grabs my thighs – and slams them back shut, while leaning over me, his fingers bruising my thighs as his face hovers over mine, "We made a deal, and you're emotional?"
"I had no memory when I made the deal –"
"Shut up. In the Upper I was at your mercy, and you locked me away in this limbo, in the Under... and in this place, you're under direction, without it... you'd have no chance," Darc explains, "All is fair, isn't it? Isn't it?"
"Fair? You want to sacrifice me at the end of it all. To really end me. For your selfish path."
"Don't believe everything I say," Darc whispers vehemently, then seems to blush and regret it immediately.
Before I can point it out, he's stepping back and turning away from me, his giant form is pacing the torture chamber, throwing shadows onto everything. There's barely a light in this place.
I can't believe I'm in some freak's dungeon.
This was so not me.
I remember it was one of the reasons I put him and his brothers and their little hideout – the Crypt, a cursed fucking club – into this locked chamber. It was notoriously dangerous, too many lives had gone missing in this place. No doubt into their blood cauldrons, or sacrifices or Horace's appetite alone. It wasn't really limbo, it was a cage, a time warp. I could free them, but probably not if I fell. I would lose almost all my celestial power.
As Darc's older form paces this room in his moment of solitude, I cross my legs on the interrogation table, and I look around at all the instruments of pain.
"Why don't we make another trade – for my virginity to stay intact, I'll free you from the Crypt instead... but you have to wait for my wings to grow back," I state, and Darc turns to me abruptly, his eyes flashing with desire to get out of here, "Here is the new deal. Take as much blood as you want from me but let me stay pure... and I'll free you as soon as I can."
"As tempting as you make it seem; no," Darc shakes his head, "I won't have you wander away –"
"I won't 'wander' away," I cut him off, rolling my eyes, "I need your contract. I need you to kill Armando."
"I said I already would," Darc speaks through impatient red eyes.
"I'm making it professional," I raise a brow, "We'll be co-workers."
Darc tilts his head, unbelieving and speechless.
Or perhaps... interested.
I watch as he then abruptly turns and leaves, slamming the door shut to consult his brothers.
I await his return, while I stand up and walk around the room myself. I pick up a large axe and I hold it at my side, just in case I have to find a way to negotiate further.
Eventually, and not too long later, the knob turns and the door creaks open.
I see the silhouettes of the brotherhood. I make my axe known, by holding it into the strobe lights of their club, flashing in.
These fuckers were so bad.
Infamous killers for many millennia, but it was interesting to know they targeted people like Armando – and I was interested in exploring that further with them.
Darc is at the front of the brotherhood, looking in at me and ignoring the axe.
"We'll agree, on one extra condition," Darc states, "The Crypt comes free with us."
"Your slaughter house?" I raise a brow, "...I know you don't just kill rot..." I test his morals.
"No," Darc states, "It's just rot. It's always been rot."
"You don't kill innocents?" I ask, "You swear on your undead life."
Darc looks back at his brothers, smiling, in a killer way.
He's still impatient, so I can't trust him.
Looking back in, he tells me, "...it's forbidden for Demon Eye to be taught to anyone above... only you would know. Why do you think we joke? People need to believe we're evil. And in some ways we are... I won't deny it."
"So you don't kill innocence, you don't target it. So you're... like anti-heroes of the world?"
"Rot feeds us," Darc blinks and nods.
"But..." I see it in his eyes... there is more.
"Of course... there is no limit... no limit..." Darc raises a brow, "We can kill whoever we want, Demon Eye is just one sacred philosophy. There is more we can do."
"You twist your words. Why do you torment me?" I ask.
"Wynter... you torment yourself," Darc amuses his brothers, but I am not happy with that. It hits too close to a darker truth.
"I'm a good person, I have light in my soul," I whisper, almost a hiss.
"Yes. And you died for it," his smug and sly smirk is cruel.
Darc has all the fucking answers, doesn't he?
"Stop making it seem like it's my fault that I was murdered –"
"It's not your fault, you fail to see the power in the dark, such as foreseeing that betrayal. You were blind. And now you're dead," Darc doesn't even blink.
"I trusted him..." my voice cracks, and I place the axe down on the table behind me, simply to hide the lone tear that escapes. I quickly wipe it away before I face them again.
"Then I can give you something he didn't, the truth," Darc smiles handsomely, "Don't ever trust us. Don't ever think we like you. Don't assume we'll protect you without a price. Don't wish for unconditional love – there is always a poison to be paid."
No.
"Let me out," I walk towards him, my heart breaking, "Now. I want to leave."
"Agree," Darc grabs my jaw and makes me eye off all of them, rather than searching for the exit. I don't jerk away, I face them bravely.
"Let me think about it. I have to wait for my wings to come back, it'll take another week for them to grow," I'm just being honest.
"You have a week then," Darc agrees instead, unhanding me and letting me through, they all stand back, "Let us out, and let us have our Crypt – and you keep your precious virginity. Stay pure."
I walk out while I feel their silent but humoured eyes on me, following me toward the door.
Stay in the light – and I won't see my next murder either.
And I had a feeling I knew who wanted me next.
Armando might have been a monster hiding behind a wolf's charm.
But Darc was just a monster admitting to being plainly monstrous.
What could go wrong dealing with a demon like him.
✧ Song in Media: ♾ filejacker — sleep [UB] ✧