Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

B elladonna and Desmond descended into the underbelly of the manor. The descent was a labyrinth of winding corridors and hidden doors, leading them deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. Finally, they reached an underground chamber dimly lit by flickering torches. A small crowd had gathered in hushed anticipation. In the center of the room, a pentagram was drawn on the floor, surrounded by a circle of candles.

"And now, dear friends, we continue The Great Work once more." Lucien stood beside a large, iron cage and pulled back a sheet covering it. Two young women, their faces pale and frightened, were huddled together inside, gagged and bound. Lucretia, her eyes gleaming with a sinister light, joined her husband, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

The crowd of cultists erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the chamber.

"If you would do the honors," said Lucien.

"Gladly, my dear." Lucretia dragged the witches out of the cage and placed them in the center of the pentagram.

Lucien held a lit candle, its flame flickering ominously. The cultists began to chant, their voices rising in a crescendo: "Burn them, burn them."

The flame followed the shape of the pentagram, imprisoning the witches in a ring of fire. The chant continued, their voices growing louder and more frenzied.

"Save them," Belladonna cried out.

"Yes, mistress." Desmond stepped across the fire, his feet barely touching the flames. The fire seemed to fear him, its heat dissipating as he approached the witches. Effortlessly, he extinguished the flames, and the witches fell to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Go," Belladonna hissed to them. "Run."

Lucien's face paled. "What sorcery is this?"

Belladonna faced him, pulling off the wig. "It's the power of a demon."

"You," said Lucretia. "How dare you?—"

"Desmond," said Bella coldly.

"Yes, mistress." He approached the crowd in languid strides, his polished heels clacking against the stone.

"Demon, burn him," a few shouted, raising their torches.

Desmond chuckled a low laugh, his eyes glinting. He raised his hand, and a wave of dark energy swept through the room. The torches went out. Lucretia and the cult members were thrown to the ground like they were nothing more than straw dolls. Belladonna watched in awe as Desmond unleashed his power. She had never seen him so terrifying and magnificent before.

A vise-like grip squeezed her throat. Lucien had snuck up behind her.

"You fucking witch."

"Let…me go."

"No one touches my mistress so familiarly." Desmond's voice thundered in the chamber.

Lucien squeezed harder, and in a blink of an eye Desmond had come behind him. He gripped the half-rat's arms, releasing the chokehold on my throat. I gasped a sharp breathful of air.

"You seem quite attached to these," Desmond hummed, yanking the man's arms.

Realization dawned on the half-rat. "Stop," he breathed.

Laughing, Desmond increased his force, little by little, until he wrenched at the man's sinews. Lucien released a guttural plea and writhed like a helpless fly caught in a spider's web.

"You're going to break them," he gasped out.

"My, I fear I'm not feeling that generous. You should consider yourself most fortunate if I do not rip them from your person."

A deep throaty laugh escaped the demon. He yanked his sinews harder, breaking the skin, and a sickening squelch filled the air. Lucretia screamed.

"Stop," Belladonna said. "Leave them to me."

"Of course, mistress. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your moment." Desmond bound them in the center of the pentacle, ignoring their pleas and writhing. "You may do the honors now."

Belladonna's anger scorched her from the inside and erupted outward, manifesting in a flame hovering above her fingertip. She bent down and touched her finger to the pentacle drawing. The flames followed the lines once again, imprisoning Lucien and Lucretia.

"Burn," she said coldly, then turned her back and exited the chamber. Desmond smiled and followed on her heels.

"I hope revenge was sweet as you expected." Desmond's voice, a whisper in the night, echoed through the night.

They watched the manor burn from a distance. She had done it at last. She had gotten her revenge. It tasted bittersweet on her tongue.

Belladonna stood amidst the carnage, a macabre tableau of burning walls and extinguished life. The cult members, those vile creatures who had tormented her for so long, were no more. Their reign of terror had been brought to an end.

"It's over." Tears ran down her cheek, but a strange sense of peace washed over her. The weight of years of torment had been lifted.

The demon stood beside her, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. "Was it worth it?"

Belladonna turned to face the creature, the full extent of her actions sinking in. Had she truly damned herself to eternal servitude for this fleeting moment of vengeance? She considered the wreckage before her, the remnants of a cult that had brought so much misery into her life. Yes, she decided. It was damn worth it.

The air between Desmond and her thickened with something immaterial. The moment of reckoning approached, and her heart pounded like a caged bird.

"I am ready," she declared, closing my eyes.

The beast leaned in and cupped her face, its breath hot against her cheek. This was not the manner in which she had envisioned her demise. Desmond ran his finger across her lips and parted them. Perhaps this was how the demon would collect his repayment. Through a soul-sucking kiss.

"Take it," she whispered.