Viola's POV
Kilian wasn't lying when he'd said there were weird traditions between him and his aunt— like butt ugly weird traditions.
As we walk into the room, the smell of fish is imminent and I have half a mind to look around for faulty electrical sockets until I realize I'm in the literal underworld. I peer around the dimly lit room and realize the smell is coming from a huge human sized fish tank to my right, and it's filled with magical lobsters.
Like no kidding— magical lobsters.
I glance sideways at Kilian as he watches my skeptical reaction.
Yet, instead of my eyes looking around and searching for whatever can fulfill the prophecy in the treasure trove filled room— my eyes find their way back to the red, blue, and purple shimmering lobsters.
"They're like Samson." Kilian says, gesturing me towards the murky watered glass tank. I make a slightly disgusted face at the grossness of it all, but sympathy still manages to entangle with my heart. Those poor lobsters were at Kilian and my enemy in laws mercy, and learning by my experience— they have none.
"Samson?" I question absentmindedly, staring at a bug eyed lobster's pattern—shimmery red and blue, the colors entangling, creating a luscious looking purple vining around its tail. That one would look cute with a bow and a name, something like sally Mae. Or rebel. I furrow my eyebrows slightly as I realize that I'm bad at names.
"Ah, I see. You've never read the Bible." He says matter of factually speaking, and it makes me want to bite his head off when he becomes pompous in knowledge. He can't teach me like a friend, no, he'd rather preach condescendingly. He begins to tap his fingers onto his palm as the ghost of a smile etches onto his face.
"Samson was a human male from the Bible that was blessed with strength— and it came from his hair. He could never cut it, or he'd lose his strength; kind of like these lobsters." He knocks on the glass suddenly, causing me to jump in unease. The words coming out of his mouth didn't seem normal, it all almost seemed perverted, and evil; like he was mocking in a way.
"These lobsters don't have hair." I squint at them, feeling disdain for the way he carelessly knocked on the glass. If I've learned anything from watching finding Nemo, it's that little taps are big earthquakes to sea creatures. Asshole.
"No, but they do have whiskers." He whispers by my ear, causing me to stiffen.
He leans away with a chuckle, his eyes once again focusing on the lobsters. When did we take a second to focus on lobster 101 class? When did Kilian become a lobster professor?
"These pesky little things are one of the most powerful creatures out there. You snip off their whiskers and ingest them, you'll be unstoppable when it comes to physical strength." He grins at me.
"Then you just pop them in a boiling hot bath and voilà, dinner is served." He winks. I give him a queasy smile and hope that it looks normal.
"What do you get when you eat them?" I ask as he continues to observe the magical lobsters.
"Hm? Oh, nothing; they're just awfully tasty." He replies, his lip flickering up in the corner. "Just make sure to boil them while they're still alive." He says, as if to instruct me; as if I'd ever do it to those poor babies. What a maniac— at some point, you just have to draw a line; and lobsters is where I draw mine.
"So, what ended up happening to Samson? Did anyone cut off his hair?" I question Kilian silently as he clenches his jaw, seemingly having enough of the Bible study and lobsters.
"His wife sold him out to his enemies and had his hair shaved. They gouged his eyeballs out." He has that distant look in his eyes again, a smile haunting his face.
"That's it?" I press on, somehow feeling as if my fate was tied up in the conclusion of Samson.
"That's it." He clicks his tongue and turns away from me as I narrow my eyes at the back of his head, something akin to disbelief and anger churning in my chest.
"I don't believe you." I say, annoyance radiating off of me in waves. I said I'd act in love, but even when the shriveled little thing I call my heart actually thumped for Kilian back then— we still managed to bump heads, so this should seem normal. Except— his reaction is colder; less attached.
"Well vi," he purrs. "You never were the bright one, let's keep it that way." He glances over his shoulder and continues his trek into the room, a light chuckle following him.
Steam is probably billowing from my ears and eyes as I make a move to follow him, but not without throwing a sad look at the lobsters.
Little petunia and her purple pattern was giving me puppy eyes— in a sort of bug eyed way.
'I'll come back for you' I mouth as I hurry after the sadistic demon.
Maybe I'd just have to take it upon myself to read the Bible myself, since I wasn't the brightest, as Kilian says. Yet, if it's relevant enough for him to reference like a textbook— I stare at him and am tempted to to take a note out of Sam and Deans attack style, but ultimately decide against it as he slides his cold dry fingers against mine. I swallow slowly as the feeling of wrongness fills me up yet again, looking around the room as silence fills the corners and crevices.
Gold fabrics cover the walls of the large room like tapestry's, shimmering like golden mirrors moving with the wind.
Artifacts litter the room; corners filled with shelves of jewels, daggers, books and keys— but no description for their purpose.
My eyes swallow the sight of everything hungrily, trying to find something— anything that can be helpful in winning the war.
Almost like a whispering caress, I feel a slight brush on the underside of my right rib. A feathered touch, a lovers whisper; and then I see it.
Shrouded in the darkness of the wealth filled room, I realize nothing is as valuable as the piece of metal sheathed inside of a large chunk of raw black crystal— hematite stone. The blood rock.
My pulse begins to thrum as I recognize the sword plunged deep inside of the hematite— as I'd just seen that very sword plunging toward my sisters imminent death in a vision.
My throat closes as the sword beckons me toward, whispering sweet nothings. Power, strength, success— love.
I flinch.
"Oh Kilian, darling— I hope you haven't begun without me." A velveteen voice rings out, words dragging out like a heavy dress swooshing on volcanic rock.
"Of course not, auntie. I would never think to do that." Kilian flashes a wolfish grin to something behind me— someone behind me. My breath hitches and gets trapped in my lungs, pounding against my ribcage.
"After all, Vi has been so excited to meet the woman who is responsible for making me who I am today. A king."
My stomach churns wildly as his red eyes flash to my face, his grin falling short and empty as he watches my reaction.
"Haven't you, vi?"
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