Chapter 10 Lucian
Lucian
Isit here, my mind reeling as I stare at the lifeless body of the girl at my feet.
Her once vibrant eyes are now vacant, staring into oblivion.
I didn't mean to kill her, but the moment her blood touched my tongue, I was lost in a frenzy of hunger and desire.
The taste was intoxicating, and I couldn't stop myself.
What the hell have I become?
Azrael circles me like a shark, his eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "This is what you are, Lucian. A predator. A killer. Embrace it."
I clench my fists, anger and confusion battling for dominance within me. "Listen, you discount Dracula. I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, but I'm not interested in being your personal murder puppet."
Azrael chuckles, with condescension. "Oh, but you don't have a choice, my dear Lucian. You see, you're nothing more than a bargaining chip. We're waiting for your little friends to come to rescue you, and then the real fun begins."
I narrow my eyes, trying to make sense of his words. "Friends? What friends? And what the hell do you want with me anyway?"
Azrael leans in close, his breath cold against my skin. "I have plans for you, Lucian. I will mold you into my villain, a weapon to unleash upon the world—daming your soul to feed my master. And your friends? They'll be walking straight into a trap."
Paige, the blonde bombshell with a permanent scowl, interrupts our little chat. "Azrael, a word."
They step away, but my heightened senses allow me to hear every word of their conversation.
Paige's voice is laced with doubt. "What makes you so certain they will return for him?"
Azrael's reply is confident and sinister. "I'm counting on Dani's bleeding heart to rescue her friend. She won't be able to resist playing the hero. Then we spring the trap."
Paige scoffs. "I wouldn't be so sure. The curse I put on them might make things a bit more complicated. Those bastards won't be able to use their powers—"
"What do you mean?" Azrael's tone turns sharp.
Paige's voice is defensive. "I did what I could, okay? I tried to stop her from opening the portal, but they got away—as you saw—before I could finish the spell. I don't know how long it will hold."
I feel trapped in a bad soap opera with no script as they continue arguing. Powers? Curses? Friends, I can't remember. It's all too much.
I twist in my seat, trying to loosen the ropes that bind me. Come on, super strength, don't fail me now. I mean, seriously, if I'm supposed to be this badass vampire, why can't I break free from these glorified twine strings? It's like being held captive by a kindergartener's art project.
I clear my throat, interrupting their little spat.
"Hey, Dumb and Dumber, mind cluing me in on what the hell you're yapping about?
Because right now, I'm more lost than a blind man in a maze, and you two are about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine.
So, how about we take a little break from the evil scheming and fill me in on the details? "
Azrael glares at Paige, his eyes burning with frustration. "You couldn't, I don't know, erase his smart-ass mouth while you were busy fucking around in his head?" Azrael smooths back his hair in a show of frustration. "It's like listening to an annoying child."
Paige scoffs. "Doesn't work that way. You can't just erase a person's personality like you're hitting the delete button. I could only erase certain aspects of his memory, not the fundamental essence of who he is."
Azrael turns to me, his eyes narrowing. "You want to know what's going on? Fine. Your so-called friends abandoned you and left you here with us. And now, we will use you as bait to lure them back. Once they're here, let's just say they won't be leaving anytime soon."
Paige rolls her eyes. "Don't be so fucking dramatic, Azrael. We still have work to do. The curse won't hold forever, and we need to be ready."
I feel a surge of anger course through my veins.
"Listen up, you Fuckwad, I don't belong to anyone.
And if I do have friends out there, I'm pretty sure they're smart enough to see through your little bullshit.
I mean, seriously, 'spring the trap'? What is this, a Looney Tunes cartoon?
Will you paint a tunnel on a wall next and hope they run into it?
" I laugh. "What's next, a monologue about your evil plan while stroking a cat? "
I'm just getting warmed up with this dickhead, trying to act like he's the lovechild of Dr. Evil and a hemorrhoid. I mean, seriously, who the fuck does he think he is, with his little "no one is leaving this place" speech?
"Ooh—ooh, let me guess, you're also going to tell me that I have to choose between joining you or dying, right?
Newsflash, buddy, I've seen this movie before, and spoiler alert: the good guys always win.
So why don't you take your discount Sanderson Sister over there and return to the drawing board?
Because if this is your A-game, I'd hate to see your B-material. "
Paige laughs—a harsh and grating sound. "We'll see about that, pretty boy. In the meantime, get used to your new life as Azrael's pet monster."
As they leave me alone with my thoughts and the dead girl at my feet, I can't help but wonder what twisted path I've stumbled upon—it's like I'm trapped in a nightmare I can't wake up from. But one thing's for damn sure: I'm not going down without a fight.
If Azrael thinks he can turn me into his puppet of darkness, he's got another thing coming.
And by "thing," I mean my foot up his ass.
Sideways. I may be confused as a chameleon in a kaleidoscope, but I'll be damned if I let some glorified edge lord and his bitchy sidekick pull my strings like a marionette at a fucked-up demonic children's party.
I'm the master of my own destiny, the captain of my soul, and the only one allowed to screw up my life with bad decisions and questionable judgment calls.
The world returns to me in a dizzying rush as I'm jolted awake by insistent hands shaking my shoulders.
My eyes flutter open, and I find myself staring into the faces of two stunningly beautiful women.
One has vibrant, hot pink bubblegum hair that looks like it could light up a room, a nose ring in her left nostril, and rich chocolate brown eyes, while the other sports a wild mane of rainbow-streaked locks—her eyes—electric blue.
"Who the hell are—" I start, but Bubblegum Girl quickly silences me with a finger to her lips.
"Shhhh! We're getting you out of here," she whispers, her voice sweet and urgent.
I blink, trying to clear the fog from my mind. "Do I know you?"
Rainbow Brite smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Yes, you idiot. You don't remember us?"
"Nope. Nada. Apparently, my brain has been wiped cleaner than a porn star's ass crack after a bleaching session."
The two girls exchange a look of confusion and concern before frantically working on the ropes that bind me to the chair.
"I think they're cursed, Emily. I can't get them off," Bubblegum Girl says, her delicate fingers struggling against the unyielding knots. 'We need to hurry. I don't know how long my spell will last."
Spell? So she's a witch, too? Great, just great. It's like I've stumbled into a live-action remake of Hocus Pocus, except instead of Bette Midler and her fabulous hair, I'm stuck with these two.
What fucking time era am I in? Is this the Middle Ages, where people are burning witches at the stake and everyone's got a bad case of the plague? Or is this some futuristic, neo-pagan dystopia where technology and sorcery have merged into an unholy alliance?
I half-expect Gandalf to come strolling around the corner, smoking his pipe and muttering about hobbits and rings of power.
Beam me up, Scotty. There's no intelligent life down here, just a bunch of witchy shit and a whole lot of what-the-fuckery.
"By all means, take your time, ladies. It's not like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber are right around the corner.
" I dramatically gasp, "Oh wait, they fucking are.
" I whisper. "I can hear them talking in the next room.
" My words drip with sarcasm, masking the growing sense of unease in the pit of my stomach.
"Shit!" Emily hisses, her rainbow hair flying as she ducks behind me. "Let me give it a go." She tugs at the ropes, frustration etched in her furrowed brow. "Fuck! They've got some witchy crap on them. These damn things won't budge."
"Oh, a potty mouth. I like you already, sweetheart. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Wait, scratch that. I don't want to know what you do with your mother. That's a whole different kind of family therapy that I'm not equipped to handle."
She looks at me, over my shoulder, her rainbow hair falling into her eyes. "You know…you sure do seem calm and unhelpful for being tied up. Is this like a kink for you or something?"
I smirk, "Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart. The things I could show you..."
Emily scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I'll pass on the BDSM 101 lesson, thanks—I prefer my partners with a pulse."
She yanks at the ropes again, her frustration mounting. "Fucking hell, these things are tighter than a nun's asshole. What did they do, dip them in super glue?"
I chuckle at her vocabulary, "Maybe if you ask nicely, they'll untie themselves."
Emily shoots me a withering glare. "Oh, haha. Very funny, Mr. Comedian. Why don't you put that mouth of yours to good use and help me figure out how to get you free? Or would you rather sit there and crack jokes until Azrael returns to finish the job?"
I grin, my mind diving straight into the gutter. "I mean, I could think of a few other uses for my mouth, but I don't think now's the time or place..."
Emily groans, shaking her head in exasperation. "For fuck's sake, do you ever stop? I swear, it's like talking to a horny teenager. A really old, really annoying horny teenager."