"Have you and John always had a beef?"
Elijah had to sneak the Princess into his suite and into his room. They got heated and passionate, so they had to remain quiet as to not wake up his mother the night following the execution of Timothy and Emily Campbell. After they had sex, they were laying underneath the plain sheets of his bed. Her head rested on his chest, and he felt like he was in absolute heaven despite the subject matter being unpleasant for him. She felt his chest rise and fall as he sighed, making her look up at him for her response.
"Yes. Ever since we were little kids," he said. "Our mothers knew each other, more like my mother served his mother. Her name is Coco. She's okay, kind of a snob. In the old world, she was filthy rich."
From Outpost 3, the woman I resurrected. "I know who she is."
"You do?"
"Yeah, she was in Outpost 3. I was a kid at the time. She was killed by her boyfriend, who snuck into the outpost, but I brought her back," she explained.
"You can do that?" Elijah asked with an impressed smile.
"Yeah, so can you," she hinted. "Tell me, what has John done to you?"
"I am not one to get angry easily, but John boils my blood to no end. He is reckless, has no heart, only wants to fuck every girl he sees, and he is too caught up in his fast-lane lifestyle to care about anyone but himself," Elijah explained heatedly. "He's a prick, Princess." He paused. "I can describe so many incidents with him."
"Give me an example," she commanded.
Elijah sighed: "when we were two years old, he gave me a wedgie and set my pants on fire. He's got this ability to start fires with his mind, like I do."
"Pyrokinesis," she said.
"Yes. I almost died. I could have burned to death," he explained, leaving nothing out. "He wouldn't have cared, nor would his asshole friends. They're twin brothers, Axel and Hunter. Though, out of the two, Axel was the worst. Sadistic..." He trailed off. "They're both douchebags, though. The twins can do stuff, too. They can go place to place, as can John. Except they would toss things in the air at me. One time, all three of them teleported all around me so I couldn't escape, and they jumped me. They would taunt me... often I'd be covered in bruises."
"You didn't tell your mother?" Melanie inquired.
"I did, but there was not much she could do," he said sadly. "Part of me thinks she never wanted me, and thus didn't care enough to protect me." He paused again, thinking of what to say next. "Coco tried to stop her son from being a bully, but not even she could do something. She caught him beating or taunting me a few times and she intervened. That aside, not much was done. Do you remember the time I told you I almost burned this compound down?"
Melanie knew exactly what he was going to say next, so she completed his thought: "you were angered by either the twins or John, provoking your pyrokinesis?"
He nodded: "yup. It was John. As a matter of fact, he lives a floor below this one in this compound. He was chasing me through the hall with a bat, trying to swat at me. Maybe he was trying to up his game with his beatdowns, but... I got so angry and scared. I was cornered. I set the bat on fire and he transmuted out of the way, and it started a line of fire all the way down the hallway."
That is why the compound hallways, save for the one leading to mine, no longer have carpet, she thought.
"Yes, that's why. Because of me," Elijah said.
Melanie looked shocked and confused for a moment: "did you... read my thoughts?"
"I... don't know," he answered with a smile. "All I know is, I have dreamed of getting revenge on him for all these times he's done me wrong."
"Hm... perhaps you can," Melanie smirked with evil seduction, tracing her fingers up Elijah's abdomen and chest. "A little... life-sucking pain never hurt anyone."
"What?" Elijah gasped. "I don't want to kill him, Princess. I just want to make him suffer. Teach him a lesson."
"Oh, I have a better idea than just killing him," she giggled sinisterly. "He will never bother you again with what I have in store."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just below them in said suite played loud heavy metal music coming from a room within, where John was sweating bullets from the ecstasy he just shared with a regular partner, Lydia. This was a habit for him – meeting up with females in the sanctuary, seducing them, and bringing them back to his home suite for a sexual liaison. Sometimes it was the other party's suite, and sometimes it was in groups at royal celebrations. He had only started having sex in groups that year, but it was one of his favorite things. For all he knew, his insatiable lust may have contributed to population growth. The girl who had been riding him got off and he was panting in ecstasy, his member sensitive still from almost an hour straight. He took the remote for the stereo and turned the music up even louder and sang at the top of his lungs. The girl, Lydia, propped her head up while laying on her side and shook her head:
"New world disorder, oppressed upon mankind
Burn, your blessed trinity, your holy book of lies
Blind faith euphoria, the parasites they feed
Your endless worshipping, will satisfy their greed..."
He continued, putting his fists in the air as she started to practically scream the lyrics. To Lydia, it seemed like he was praying to their King, Lord, and Savior through the guttural, headbanging song:
"Faithless in the eyes of God!
And reverse your holy cross!
Renounce your crown of thorns!
DEFILE YOUR MOTHER, WHORE!
AVE SATANAS!
AVE, LUCIFERI EXCELSIS!"
Lydia shook her head: "you're such a dweeb."
"Hey!" he snapped sarcastically, pointing his finger at her. "This is a fucking masterpiece, Liddie. This should be the anthem of our great kingdom."
"If I had to listen to that every time Their Infernal Excellencies walked down the aisle to their thrones," Lydia said, "my eardrums would bleed. You have that on too damn loud, I can't hear myself think."
"Ooooh," he cooed teasingly, going toward Lydia on the bed and tickling her sides. "I found myself a blasphemer! You looking to get your heart ripped out and eaten, huh?"
"Stop!" Lydia screeched, laughing hysterically. His tickles hit just the spot to make her cackle like a cartoon witch. Except, she was far from that.
He looked down at her – Lydia Blackwell was a striking red-haired beauty with whom he had grown up with, alongside twins Axel and Hunter, as well as Ashley, still in the hospital recovering from surgery. She looked up at him as she laid beneath him, her thick, long tresses fanned out around her head. She had dark blue eyes, a diamond-shaped face, a perfect nose, and lips with just the right amount of fullness. John was not one for commitment, but he once considered the possibility of choosing her. Yet she found him too damn annoying to pursue anything serious with.
"In all seriousness, I think His Infernal Majesty would love this," he smirked. "It really glorifies him. The old world was so full of bullshit lies, just to keep people blind and in line. I'd probably be burnt alive at a stake or jumped by a bunch of sheep if I lived in the old world."
"Someone's coming," the girl said.
"What?"
"Someone's coming down this hallway," she said, closing her eyes. "I can see it. She's wearing red."
"Red? She?"
"Yes. She's heading down here," Lydia said. "Who did you invite?"
"I didn't invite anyone," he chuckled.
"Sorta looks like the Princess," she said with more description; she was having a clairvoyant vision in real time. "Are you sure?"
He got out of the bed and put on his underwear and pants, button up the front: "aw, now she is an end goal for me. Quite the challenge. It'd be an honor."
"Then why don't you?" she inquired crudely.
"Because that faggot Elijah has her," he snapped, looking down at her on the unmade bed.
Lydia shook her head and laid back in the bed, covering herself better with the sheets; in the process, a foot stuck out at the end of the bed: "leave Elijah alone," she said with disdain. "He never did anything to you to deserve how you treat him."
"He's a maggot," he said contemptuously, his voice going into a falsetto as he mocked him poorly. "A pussy, a whinebag... he was all like 'mommy, mommy, big bad John gave me a wedgie and I need help because I didn't clean my ass right, help me mommy!'" He scoffed, even though Lydia laughed at how bad his impression was. "Fucking pathetic. I'd at least respect him if he was a man and put up a fight... but no, he's made it easy all these years to fuck with him."
"Careful," she said, "he may just kill you one of these days."
Knock-knock!
"She's here," Lydia confirmed.
"Get dressed, you're dismissed," he commanded.
Without skipping a beat, he walked to the front door of the suite and pressed the button on the automated system to speak into whomever knocked on the other side: "hello, Vanderbilt suite."
"Ah, just who I needed to speak with," a familiar feminine voice said on the other side of the door. "It's Her Infernal Highness, coming to grant your wish."
He felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, smiling as he felt his member grow hard enough in his pants to strain and hurt against the fabric. He rose so fast, that he could have sworn being with Lydia for the hour was a mere illusion. He groaned and purred like a panther about to pounce on her if he were to open the door. He restrained himself and he opened the door, seeing Melanie with her curly golden hair up in a bun, and she was dressed in a very flattering dress that left a ton to his imagination – it was actually quite modest, a knee-length cocktail dress in a cranberry color that was gathered to one side at the waist. She wore black pumps for shoes, and black panty hose that were held up with garters underneath the dress. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off her and ravish her body with kisses, licks, and bites in the right areas.
"Your Infernal Highness," he said, bowing deeply before trying to kiss her hand. "You look ravishing."
She took her hand away, much to his disappointment: "you have to earn that, Mr. Vanderbilt."
Ugh, please let me rip off your dress and fuck you in front of Elijah, he thought; Melanie could hear every word. She felt like gagging, but a plan was in place here.
"You're not fucking me in front of him," Melanie said, "just so we are clear."
"Does he even know you want me?" he asked, his hazel eyes burning like fire down at her.
"Yes."
"Ah, I get it," John snickered, "he's a grade-A cuck now, too?"
Melanie put her hand at the base of his throat calmly, asserting her dominance over this impossible playboy: "you are not to speak of Elijah at all. I don't want to think of him while you're..." She looked down, teasing two fingertips down his abs to the top of his pants, "giving me all you got."
"I will give you anything you want," John said seductively, with fire in his voice. "Just please, ease my frustration. I could beat the fuck out of someone with what's in my pants right now."
Melanie was distracted by the redhead, now fully dressed in a black t-shirt and gray pants, who had previously been in John's bed as she walked toward the front door. Lydia, who saw Melanie, bowed and greeted her appropriately before making her way out of the suite. The Princess looked at John and sighed through her nostrils.
"I see you've had quite a fill today," she said.
"Oh yes, but..." he trailed off, "you see, I'm a man with unbridled passions and insatiable desires."
"Tell me," she pried slyly, "when you see a woman, what is your first thought?"
"Since I'm looking at you, Your Infernal Highness," he whispered, moving closer to her; "I would let you plop down on my face, so you can sit for as long as you want, before bending you over and fucking you to oblivion."
"Hm," she said, pretending it didn't repulse her. "If you're so serious, come with me, and I'll let you do just that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Melanie's light, but strong coercive hold on her subject made it so he was in a daze. He did not know where exactly she was leading him. She was guiding him to the Lodge, but a potent sense of tunnel vision overcame him, staring at just Melanie and her behind, no one and nothing else. His brain was in a complete fog – his extra senses were not functioning. They were struck blind. Before he knew it, they stopped. He snapped out of it and looked around at the dim red wide room. His eyes fixed on the inverted pentagram up toward the vaulted ceiling, and bowed his head.
"Ave Satanas," he muttered reverently. "Please, Great King in Hell, oversee and bless this sacrament."
Melanie just stared at him. He isn't serious right now, she thought as she witnessed the tall young man with flaxen blond hair turn around with fire in his hazel eyes, licking his lips and smirking. She approached him and got on her tip-toes, whispering up into his ear.
"Right here," her voice coaxing him into what she wanted him to do, "lay down."
She read his mind, and was disgusted by how lascivious and hungry he was for the main event, falsely promised to him. Oh, dear Satan, please! Sit on my face... sit on my face...
She rolled her eyes and lifted up the skirt of her dress a little bit, straddling him and tracing her hands up and down his muscular chest and abs. It disturbed her how hard he was between her legs. She controlled herself as to not be aroused, thinking about all of the girls before her that he had taken carnally. He groaned and purred uncontrollably under him as she lightly dragged her nails over his skin. Meanwhile, Elijah was hiding behind the piano in the darkness in the back of the Lodge. He peered at the sight, infuriated by it even more than John's presence alone was infuriating him. He looked down, holding the Princess' folding knife in his hands, having it at the ready.
"Please... please..." John begged with the Princess on top of him. "I'll have you just like this, but you're killing me."
Melanie looked over at where Elijah was hiding, and he took it as a signal to use transmutation and go right next to John on the floor. The blond man gasped and nearly got up, but Melanie on top of him made it quite difficult for him to maneuver.
"Hey! No!" he exclaimed. "I'm not a fag! I don't swing that way!"
Sing-JAB!
Elijah stabbed the folding knife into the side of John's neck, hitting his carotid in just the right spot to cause a massive, gushing spray of blood in the opposite direction where he was. Melanie got off her prey as soon as the jab began to gush, as to not soil her dress. In his last moments of consciousness, he looked up at the young man he had bullied and tormented for so long, soaked in his own blood as he was slowly exsanguinated by the stab wound.
"Lex talonis..." he said spitefully. "Do unto others, as they do to you. You probably didn't think I'd have it in me, but I've waited so fucking long to watch the life leave your eyes..."
As John took his last breath of air, his head fell back, his jaw opening his mouth to a larger proportion than normal, his eyes wide open and staring blankly into space like a dead fish. Elijah took the knife away from where he stabbed him, and nearly fell to his knees from the sinful euphoric rush he got from killing John. Melanie tried to catch him, staring at the scene with a satisfied smile, but most of what she was feeling, she absorbed from Elijah and his utter ecstasy in that moment.
"The second-best moment of my life," he muttered to himself. He looked back at the Princess and smiled: "thank you so much for helping me."
"The plan isn't over yet, though," she said.
"What do you mean?" Elijah asked, getting back to his feet and staring down into her eyes. "What is next, Princess?"
"He's going to stay dead for a little bit," she said. "Maybe a few days. Expect the Lodge to reek of brimstone and sulphur."
"He's going to rot," he said, "just like I'd want him to."
"Yes but... you're going to do me a big favor," Melanie told him.
"What is it, Princess?" he asked submissively, getting to his knees and holding her hand. "Anything. Anything at all, name it."
This was the perfect opportunity, when devising this plan, for him to demonstrate that he could do another potent power in the Seven Wonders: "bring him back in three days."
His eyes widened, almost feeling a sense of rage: "what?!"
"Three days is quite a long time in Hell," Melanie said matter-of-factly. "That is why I suggested you kill him and leave him dead for a bit."
He rose to his feet, and she could sense the extreme reluctance toward her idea. She just stood there, staring up at him comfortably. She did not flinch, as she was not afraid of him anyways.
"Forgive me..." he said as a disclaimer, "but are you CRAZY?!"
"You even told me you just wanted to make him suffer a little bit, not kill him," she reminded him.
"But... Princess," he said, growing tearful. "He tormented me for a huge chunk of my life. Killing him just now, was the second-best thing to ever happen in my life, aside from meeting you." He sniffled, and she felt like rolling her eyes. "Please... please, let him stay dead."
"We could compromise," Melanie offered. "Three days may be a bit too short of a time to let him rot, after all."
"I don't want to bring him back," Elijah cried, being reminded of all the grief John put him through during their childhood and even up until then. "Even if I did... I-I wouldn't know how."
Melanie saw Elijah's moment of suffering just thinking about the unpleasantries with John in his life. How could the Princess propose taking away a source of his happiness, the very idea that John was no longer going to torture him with beatdowns, taunts and ridicule? He sobbed a little bit and walked away from the body and Melanie, who followed him as he plopped down on the edge of the short stage. He wiped his glacial blue eyes on the sleeve of his black shirt and sniffled, feeling a slender arm going around his shoulders. He looked at Melanie, whose bright blue gaze consoled him. He was silent and listened to her.
"One thing my mother, the Queen, has taught me is that death changes people," she explained, keeping her voice soft and gentle. "She has the power of resurgence. She has the ability to reach into that place between life and death and pull a soul back into its body, here in the mortal coil. She's seen firsthand how it can change someone." She paused. "Before my father initiated the apocalypse, there were Witches on this earth. She told me a story recently about one Madison Montgomery. She had been killed by the Supreme, or leader, of the time. Do you remember seeing her in the book we read?"
He nodded: "yes. What about her, exactly?"
"Fiona Goode killed Madison. She was dead for a total of two weeks. My mother was called upon to bring her back to life, and while she had a difficult time because she was full of death, she succeeded. Madison was not nearly the same upon being brought back. She was worse, but then she was killed a second time by their butler. Lastly, my father brought her back during a Descensum attempt, and she turned into...a much better person. She was willing to make the most of her third chance at life and help her sister Witches, even in trying to stop the inevitable...my father's ascension to his true place on the throne of the new world."
"But... Princess," he said quietly, looking into her eyes, "what if he doesn't change? What if it makes him worse?"
"It won't," she replied. "You know why?"
"Why?" His eyes widened in curiosity, reaching for Melanie's hand.
"Because he was a rotten person to begin with," she smiled encouragingly. "He will not pass up a second chance to improve his life and relationships with others around him."
Elijah looked over at the body, still seeping a pool of deep red blood around his upper body and head from the wound in his neck. He smirked at the tent still in his pants from when he was aroused from the promised sexual liaison. Melanie looked at him and smiled along with him.
"What is it? What's so funny?"
"He died happy," he cackled, referring to the erection still making a significant bulge in the corpse's pants. "What an embarrassing way to die."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt was getting worried about her son being missing – by this point, it had been at least five full days since he went out of the suite and never came back. She had not been paying attention, which made her feel a bit guilty. She was used to him galivanting about, causing trouble with his twin friends or hooking up with girls, but he had never been away from home for this long. She had been waiting outside the suite Mallory, her former employee and servant, and Elijah shared just above them. She knocked, and heard the inhabitant's voice from the automated system attached to the door.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, it's Coco. Open up," she said. When Mallory opened the door, Coco gasped at how weary and weak she looked. She was once radiant and full of life, but now, she looked like an empty shell of what once was. Her soft brown hair looked less thick than she remembered from the last time she saw her, and below her chocolate-colored eyes were deep dark circles. She also looked gaunter than she remembered, and Mallory was always small in stature. She stepped forward and almost put her palms against Mallory's cheeks, feeling empathy she never knew she had.
"Mallory..." she sighed. "Are you okay?"
"I've been better. Come in," she invited.
She fixed her and Coco a hot drink before sitting down with her slowly; it was as though Mallory had a spine or hip problem. The older blonde looked at her, and felt uneasy at the decay of life she saw before her.
"Have you seen John anywhere?" she asked. "It isn't like him to be gone for so long."
"I have not," Mallory said, taking a sip of her beverage. "Why? Is he missing?"
"Yes, he hasn't been home in five days. I'm worried sick," Coco expressed. "Has Elijah seen him?"
"No. In fact, he's out and about. I don't know where he is, either," she said lifelessly.
"Mallory," Coco began, reaching for her thin arm. "I know I haven't treated you the best, or seen you in a long time but... what is happening with you? You look like you're really sick. Have you been to the Clinic."
"I have," Mallory replied. "There is not much they can do for me."
"Why? C-Can you tell me what it is?"
"That kid sucks the life out of me," Mallory confessed. "Ever since the day he was born, I have felt my life force evade me, slowly... I haven't felt normal since he turned four."
"Life force... what the fuck are you talking about?" Coco asked in her typically sassy manner.
"Look, it's nothing the doctors can do anything about. I have this metastatic cancer in little lesions all over my internal organs," she confided calmly; there were tears glossing her gaze over. "I first found out about a few months ago, and it's like... I'm fading. Fast."
"Cancer? What the hell? They can't... fix you?" Coco asked incredulously.
"Apparently not," she replied. "I can't tell Elijah. He'd be devastated."
"I don't blame you, but... he's going to find out somehow," Coco said. "You really shouldn't be keeping that from him."
"I wonder if he would be so kind as to put me out of my misery," she wondered, "considering what he is."
Coco was in shock – she knew Mallory to be demure and quiet, but not morbid like this, especially about her own state of health and wellbeing. Looking at her, hearing her words, made her realize that Mallory did not want to be part of this kingdom anymore. Perhaps she never wanted to be, and only complied so she would live and hopefully have a good life under Michael's reign.
"Are you... talking about treason, Mallory? Are you kidding? After what we saw?!" Coco exclaimed.
"This has nothing to do with the King," she corrected. "It's me. I bowed because I had a will to live. I don't know why, but something inside me told me that I needed to bow to him in order to survive. I had hopes that someone, somewhere out there... would come and save me, or all of us, and that the natural order would be restored. I've spent years now, feeling like someone else was inside me, but now... it's gone to Elijah, my son..." Her voice turned to one of contempt. "As I am dying slowly, he is thriving, like I've never seen anyone thrive... at least, from what I can remember..."
Mallory took a sip of her drink, and swallowed it. However, she began to feel her breath start to wheeze. Coco stood up and went behind her, patting her back. She's too young to be this sick, she thought, she's almost thirty. She pulled the chair she was sitting in out gently, and helped Mallory to her feet until she could support herself.
"Mallory, are you sure you don't want to go to the Clinic?" Coco ensured out of genuine concern.
She sighed, nodding: "I hope they have some solution."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Vitalum Vitalis."
Melanie was reading off the open page in the book about the Salem descendants and the coven that once was alive, well, and cohesive prior to the apocalypse. Elijah was there with her, along with the decaying body of John Vanderbilt. The wound on the side of his neck began to fester, smelling like a horrible infection mixed with brimstone and sulphur. He was pallid and stiff in all body parts; yes, all body parts. His flaxen hair was yellowing now, dried blood still in it. They managed to hide his body over the course of a week at this point, and even though Elijah was more than hesitant to bring his rival back from the dead, he was doing this for Melanie because she asked him to.
"That's what it is? To bring someone back?" he asked.
"One way, yes." Melanie nodded, "resurgence is the concrete ability to resurrect. Vitalum Vitalis uses the life force of the one using it."
"But what's the difference?"
"Vitalum Vitalis costs more of your life force. It can be used to drain someone else and use their life force, or you can give yours to someone sick or dead to bring them back to full health," she explained, also reading some of the information from the book.
She's got to be kidding, he thought. "He doesn't even deserve that from me."
"Elijah," she said with aggravation, "just do it. Trust me."
"I do," he replied. "I just... I don't know if I-"
"Your mother was Supreme Elect for the Salem descendants and we share the Antichrist as our father," Melanie reminded him. "Don't doubt yourself now. You can do it."
Elijah nodded in agreement and gathered himself for a moment. He looked at the body they had to pull out from one of the trunks in one of the back rooms of the Lodge, where they hid him from being discovered. He was now laying on the floor, where he crouched down on his knees and looked up at Melanie for what to do.
"Melanie... what do I do?"
"Breathe your life force out into his mouth," he instructed. "Put a hand over his forehead and another over his chest."
He rolled his eyes, trying to block out the smell of death from distracting him from completing the task. He leaned down, closing his eyes and doing as instructed. With every exhalation, he became dizzy, and just before he felt faint, he could almost hear the first breaths of life come into John's body since dying. Melanie closed the book and went over to him, trying to keep him conscious to see the results of his first attempt at this feat. The side of John's neck was also healed, as a bonus, but he was still covered in dried old blood. He sat up slowly and looked at the Princess and his rival next to him on the floor.
"W-Where am I? What did you do?" he asked.
"I made you pay, finally," Elijah said sternly. "For all of the shit you put me through, you got your just deserts. I didn't even want to bring you back but-"
"Bring me back?"
"I killed you," Elijah confessed. "Remember?"
John nodded and felt the side of his neck where he was stabbed, and blood gushed out. It was patched over with fresh, new skin, as if it never happened. Yet he was covered in blood still, which needed to be cleaned off. His boner also had gone down upon the first beats of his heart pumping a normal amount of blood through his veins. He looked down for a moment, and then looked at Elijah and the Princess.
[Below: the skit that inspired what you're about to read next, specific part begins at 1:48]
"I saw horrible things," he said.
"Good," Elijah said, "exactly what I wanted."
"Elijah, hush," Melanie said. "What did you see, John?"
He recognized her and bowed his head her way, turning around to sit more comfortably as he spoke: "I think it was Hell, I was punished down there. It seemed like all eternity... how long have I been dead?"
"A week or so," Melanie replied.
"That explains it," he said gruffly. "Well... time passes differently down there... my dick split open, and locusts flew out. A badger raped me with a barbed cock..."
"Who's the faggot now?" Elijah teased.
"Shut up, you!" barked the newly-resurrected ward. "It REALLY hurt! I drowned in wasps that stung me every move I made... they turned my rectum inside out and nailed it to a wall! I gauged out my eyes to stop seeing the horrors, but they only grew back! I saw everything!"
At that moment, both Melanie and Elijah stood up when he seemed to approach them on the floor, but instead of attacking them, he broke down in tears. Elijah smiled down at him, satisfactorily because he finally exacted his revenge and made John feel the same amount of pain and more than he inflicted on him. He sobbed on the floor like a baby in distress, helpless for once in his life.
"I was only given nails to eat," he cried. "Every step I took was on broken glass...boils began to grow on my skin! I felt like my insides were being chewed on by unseen forces. My brain turned to scrambled eggs..."
He stopped for a minute, feeling a rough grip on the back of his neck pulling his head back. He felt a soft, feminine whisper in his ear; it was sharp and mystifying.
"You will never bother Elijah ever again," he heard, feeling his eyes weary and heavy; it was Melanie, and he was shocked that she had such a firm grip. "If I find out you are even looking at him the wrong way, I'll fucking destroy you. Do you understand?"
He nodded compliantly, a blank expression in his hazel eyes: "perfectly, Your Infernal Highness."
"It's better I destroy you than Elijah, because he will damage you beyond all repair," Melanie smirked. "Consider it a service if I get to you before he does."
He sighed and looked blankly up at Elijah: "your mother... is in the Clinic."
In response, Elijah squinted at John with confusion: "why?"
"Dying." That was the only verbal response he made.