Bla’Gar briefly thought on Lucas’ absence. He had not seen the Lycan since he’d left for the morgue to see Raven’s body. He assumed the mutt was out searching for Seth. It was how Lucas was; regardless of whether he had mated with Seth or not, he would still be out there, exhausting himself, never taking respite in his arduous quest for the young alpha.
They were all orphaned Lycan pups.
Bruce’s previous pack was one of the last known to keep their bloodlines pure; they even went so far as to force interbreeding and matching mate partners with siblings within the pack. Which had been the case with Bruce and his sister. When he had refused to stand for their unconventional pack laws, the pack had abandoned him, but not before beating him nearly to death, and leaving the pup with limited mobility and debilitating pain. Bruce had been barely seventeen at the time.
Hans had found the emaciated Lycan, pale and covered in filth and sores, rummaging through the trash, and had brought the pup back to Bla’Gar’s mansion. Bla’Gar then had to re-break many of the poor pup’s bones because they’d healed badly. It had been the start, the first steps Bla’Gar had taken, un-subconsciously, to give Seth his own pack.
Lucas was an entirely different story. Six years after Bruce, Bla’Gar had stumbled upon the arrogant twenty-three year-old Lycan who’d tried to sell him drugs. Lucas’ father had been the one forcing the pup to deal on the streets. Bla’Gar would never deny his attraction to the pup from the first moment they’d met. Lust had been an all-consuming desire in both of them, ravaging each other’s bodies in a night of ardor and sexual starvation. But it was just that, lust and nothing else. It had taken some time for Lucas to learn and let go of his guarded heart and allow others in. It was when Lucas’ father had come looking for the pup that Bla’Gar had first recognized the possibility of a hidden alpha slumbering inside him.
In the Lycan hierarchy it was known that only alphas could procreate with another alpha, and maybe Lucas had been born an alpha, but his father’s vicious stronghold over him had forced the pup’s wolf to take on a gamma nature. It had been during that night—the air stained with the smell of death and blood—that Lucas had torn out his former alpha’s throat, killing his own father, after Lucas had slaughtered his old pack. Bla’Gar hadn’t stopped Lucas; he’d allowed the pup to continue to release his pent-up anger towards the pack that had treated him so miserably all his life. For a Lycan, Lucas was one ferocious and fearsome beast. The power Bla’Gar had witnessed that night, if given time to grow, might even rival his own. He had yet to meet it again in the pup, but Bla’Gar suspected it would be soon.
What he hadn’t counted on, or maybe it was due to his own lustful infatuation with Lucas, was the admiration and idolization sixteen year-old Seth held for the older Lycan.
Bla’Gar sighed, reflecting on these things to keep his mind occupied.
Méric was the only other pup of Lucas’ former pack who’d been spared… Bla’Gar growled, not even bothered in that moment, to think about the beast. He rather wanted to hear him cry and scream with pain as Méric’s bones snapped.
Bla’Gar blinked, so thick was his blood-hungry haze, he’d failed to hear the dungeon door open, and only now saw the massive lower legs of Bruce stepping closer. Bla’Gar mapped his regard across the naked, black Lycan, sweat pearling his torso, creating little damp streams between his heaving muscles. Bruce’s thick forearms were vexed with veins as he placed the wooden box down for Bla’Gar.
The Lycan met Bla’Gar’s stare with a simple nod. The gratitude still held in the Bruce’s gilded eyes, spoke volumes of what the pup wouldn’t do to return the kindness Bla’Gar had shown him eleven years ago. This particular quest’s evidence still dripping from Bruce’s hands.
“Just one thing, Master,” Bruce said, lowering his gaze, his throat moving slowly. “Never ask such a task of Niko.”
“I’m afraid, if I do,” Bla’Gar murmured and leaned forward, flipping the box open, “I would destroy the valuable bond you and I share.” He reached in, clasping the still warm human heart in his massive right hand, and held it over the symbol he had drawn on the floor. Bruce’s bare feet slapped against stone as he moved. “Use the shower in my bedroom. Wash off the human’s blood and scent with the Tea tree and lemon infused oil.” He focused back on the symbol, pulping the human heart between his fingers, watching the minced pieces and blood seep down onto the drawing.
“Hear me, Old One, Father, Creator.” He clenched his teeth as he sliced into his side with his talons, gripped and snapped off one of his rib bones. Bla’Gar laid the bone down in the gory remains of the heart. “My Lord, King of Hell, your child pleads for your voice.”
He fell back against the wall, heaving and grunting in pain, the summoning ritual always left a demon drained of their strength, and the bone he had taken from himself as requirement would not heal as fast as any normal wound he might sustain. It would take months to grow back. This was the second rib he had removed in an attempt to summon Belail. He waited while the minutes turned to hours, and Bla’Gar knew once again that his endeavor had failed.
Raven’s eyes flicked open; he growled at the pain perforating his spine as he lifted his head, his body felt weak and malnourished. He glared straight ahead, but the darkness here was so thick it obscured what was above him. His ears prickled from a faint breathing, a soft snoring-whimper close to him. The strong smell of copper and male musk playing in the air made his nostrils flare in disgust, along with the stale odor of dust and mold, but he couldn’t fight the urge to lick his lips as his mouth overflowed with spittle. There was another scent present, not blood, but it held the illusion of it, setting his hunger roaring.
Semen. Demon come.
He scratched his nails through the filth on the floor beneath him, the spine-curling scrape delicious to his ears. Pushing up, he tilted his head left to right, sniffing the room.
There were other scents playing in the currents: different, strange and wrong, very much like his own. He sluggishly pressed off the floor and took a shaky step forward, attempted another until his face rested against bars of some sort. Raven listened, the sounds faint, something the human ear would barely hear. An echo of Hell, playing its symphony of screams and howls and torment, buzzed an annoyance from farther down in the darkness beyond the bars.
He would love to answer their calls of suffering.
“You should not stray so close to the bars.” A weak flutter attempted to pull his attention. “If he returns…he will…” Raven sensed the shiver from the other in this room.
“Where are we?” Raven asked, his voice a soft puff of mist, his throat raw and sensitive.
“I’m not sure… Some kind of laboratory or research facility…” The delicate tone was so weak, Raven waited for the boy to break any moment. “I’ve seen them…hauled away others…things on stretchers, usually in some straight jacket and—”
“This is not Arkam by any chance?” Raven interjected, a bit curious now.
“A-Arkham…?” The boy’s voice trembled. Raven smelled the sour stench of imbued fear rolling off the young one in thick, vile waves.
Yes, good old Arkham Prison, so named after the fictional city of H.P. Lovecraft’s stories—a place of true horror. A fitting name for the holding Hell for all paranormal and supernatural criminals. Raven had quite a number of ‘friends’ in there. Wouldn’t it be fascinating if he was actually in Arkham, to now meet all those supers and paras he had placed behind bars?
“No…” the boy rasped, “this place, it smells of evil, a different evil… Man made,” he whimpered.
Raven turned to him, tilting his head to the right, “You smell quite familiar.”
Out of the darkness, a face appeared, the pink lips blue, bruised and split, dried blood sticking in the little growths on his chin. There was a strange collar contraption around his neck. If one was to pull on the short chain dangling from it, those spikes would clearly penetrate the skin, as evident by the traces of dried blood on t
he pale, defined chest. Demon semen whiffed in Raven’s face as the kid wheezed out a breath. One eye was so deeply sunk beneath the swelling, the poor creature’s green orbs could barely be seen, the other swam in the blood staining his sclera.
“I don’t suppose we can get out of here?”
The boy shook his head, leaning forward, he pulled his knees closer to him. He wrapped his bruised-covered arms around them and rested his chin delicately on the left kneecap, the other raw, the skin scraped off. The blond curls, hanging forward with his action concealing his face, was dirty and stained a filthy pink.
Images flashed in Raven’s mind, blinding the reality before him… A familiar face with gray hair being stained ruddy as blood seeped down the scalp. His head pulsated as the room returned and the memory leached away. He held his hand against his forehead, realizing he had, in that moment, stumbled to the floor.
Soft fingers, so forgiving, touched his arm. “Are you all right, Detective White?”
Bile rose in Raven’s throat, spilling into his mouth, but he swallowed it back, “How do yo—?” Raven heaved for breath, coughing, and spat out a gob of the foul taste, “How do you know who I am?”
The boy kept silent for a time, his breathing faint.
“You-you’re the man Mr. Bla—Bla’Gar loves.” He barely raised his head to look at Raven. “My name’s Seth. I am one of the Lycans living with him… I am the alpha…” The boy bowed his head, then looked up again, but stared past Raven into the darkness beyond. “I was taken by…” His voice brittle as he squeezed his eyelids, forcing the moisture to drip from them; his heart, a frantic butterfly trapped in a cage. “It doesn’t matter, no one’s coming for us. We are stuck here, held at their mercy. The demon…” a convulsive shudder rippled through the poor kid’s frame, creasing his face with pain, “…and the woman, the one on TV, the actress, Lidia Roy, and…Méric...”
Raven huffed, folding his arms over his chest. So this was where all the missing supers ended up… It was no surprise that Lidia Roy was a part of this; it wasn’t the first time she’d meddled with the law. Five years ago, Landon had investigated a case of street kids being used as test subjects for a new ‘advanced’ form of cosmetic surgery. It had been one of the lesser cases Landon hadn’t been able to solve, but Landon had had a strong speculation Lidia’s cosmetics company, Eternal Youth, was involved. Raven, at the time, had helped Landon on the case and agreed with him. Unfortunately there hadn’t been enough evidence to back up their accusation. She was a woman as vain and plastic as every part of her cosmetically-enhanced body.
Lights flickered on down the hallway, flashing to life one by one, creeping closer. The scene alight in front of Raven was bar cell upon bar cell, upon bar cell, some having protective glass instead of bars. He flinched when the fluorescent hum bled beyond their own cell door.
The light click of shoe heels meeting concrete were accompanied by loud, strutting steps. The sad smell of sweet perfume was nauseating, but it was the more dominant one that made Raven’s fangs slip out. It poked at his hunger, with nails stabbing and taunting his stomach, his mouth wet. He needed it. Needed that beautiful melody of demon blood to course and sing a harmony through his veins.
A whistle split the air, almost soothing and cheerful among all this adversity. Raven was well aware of the silence settling along the rows of holding cells as the steps passed. He glanced back, seeing that the Lycan pup had forced himself into the corner, trying to hide in the little bit of darkness left. He didn’t fail to notice the two dog bowls, one with pellets—the other with water, the bowl itself, slimy with green algae stringing in the liquid and coating the bowl’s surface.
Raven snapped his attention to the front when the redolent aroma of the demon called to him. He flared his nostrils and attacked the bars, hissing.
“Calm down.” A pale face with a bald head and no facial hair appeared behind the bars. The demon stared at him with violet-steel eyes, almost similar to his silver. Raven recognized the bleached halo around the pupils, however, this one had vertical slits bisecting with horizontal ones, creating a cross.
The demon reacted fast, but Raven had sensed a tiny tingle urging him to move back when a black, mucoid-covered tentacle darted towards him, barely missing his face.
Raven eyed the demon, his skin starting to crack and then peel, slowly falling away like burning ash, revealing its true form.
Its torso expanded, muscles flexing gave the appearance of bulky, skinless pectoralis majors, Raven could see in detail. Its shoulders swelled, displaying the same exposed, fleshy muscle absent of membrane, bone protruded in the form of breastbone, bare, but the bone itself looked aged, hard like stone, while two sharp horns speared from it shoulders.
Every inch of flesh held the same tissue without skin, waxy and viscous in appearance; white, but the more Raven stared, the clearer it became.
It had skin, very thin skin, a shriveled-up texture, wrinkled like a burn victim’s. He took a step back, his attention mapping down the forearms riddled with tiny, sharp, obscure rose thorn hooks. Fingers webbed, nails black as if the demon had gone and dipped them in a can of paint. There was no distinction where epidermis ended and nail began, only the dark talons. The demon’s cock was something else though, admirably thick, black, riddled with small white polyps. The entire thing was slicked with translucent slime, but whether it was secreted from the polyps or from the sack with the slit it had snaked out from, Raven couldn’t distinguish. White ridges lined the head while an ambient droplet of purple pre-come oozed from the slit.
“I see you have not completely transitioned yet.”
Raven snapped his gaze to the demon’s face, the cheekbones and chin more prominent now that it was exposing the bone. A vertical slit ran right down the middle of the demon’s face, from behind his scalp, reaching over and down past the chin to the trachea. Raven assumed it was there so the face could open and reveal its true mouth—if he went by the tiny teeth that peeked through every time the demon breathed and the aperture flared.
Raven smiled when one of the black tentacles slithered from the demon’s back, grazed down his torso and wrapped itself around Raven’s erect cock. He shuddered with pleasure when the demon stroked him, its eyes narrowing tenderly as it flicked a thick, pale-gray tongue over its razor teeth.
“Not quite. The old, pathetic weakling is still fighting like a dying bitch inside, but I believe one more feeding would give me enough to completely devour him.”
The demon leaned forward, squeezing Raven’s cock hard enough to draw pain and pre-come.
“I will come for you once they have had their fun poking and injecting you with chemicals. Your soul will join the rest of your extended family in Hell. A nice chance for you to say hello to mommy and daddy.”
Raven licked his lips. “I’d rather be the entrée of your feast, with your tongue in my mouth and...” Raven stepped closer, grabbed the demon’s dick in his right hand through the bars, squeezing hard while piercing the member with his nails. “…your lovely cock up my ass.”
The demon’s mouth crashed down on his and took Raven’s lips in a thirsty kiss.
“We will have much fun, little vampire,” the demon cooed, thick mucus stringing between the two as he pulled back. The action left long gashes in his length while Raven held onto his dick. The demon stepped aside as the gate slid back. A whimper rippled through the room from behind Raven, when the demon stepped in past him.
He smiled, observing those tentacles pushing out of the demon’s spine and ensnaring Seth. A blood-curdling howl ripped from the pup’s chest, such a sad and beautiful song to Raven’s ears.
Raven didn’t fight when two goons grabbed his arms and pulled him out of the cell, the door sliding shut, leaving a loud clash to echo through this place. They dragged him behind Lidia. Raven hadn’t even so much as given her a glance before, he was too invested in licking the blood off his fingers. She was of no importance, her end along with the other things in this place
was near anyway, but for now he would bide his time till someone fucked up. Someone was bound to and by the nature of things, Raven always drew the good end of a fuck-up. It was just a question of time. Besides, this whole experiment might shine some light on what his weaknesses might be. No harm in knowing what could actually kill him, besides moonlight.
He was not scared of the demon; Raven only saw him as his meal. He could still taste and smell that glorious demon blood coursing through the thing’s veins. He did hold a stab of jealousy for the puppy currently being fucked, if Raven went by the howls slicing through the air. He smiled, death would be such a gift he could bestow upon the young alpha.
As they walked and the hallway narrowed, Raven glimpsed a milky figure several yards ahead of them, leaning against a wall.
Her white, gossamer strands of hair played delicately in the non-existing current, her pale transparent dress dancing to the same tune. What plagued Raven was that she looked like an eight-year-old child.
Lidia walked past her, not even fazed, or maybe she could not see what he could. When it was Raven’s turn, the girl looked up, her azure eyes soft and warm. The two goons didn’t seem aware of her presence either, as they kept dragging Raven forward. He twisted easily out of their steel grips, but they reached for him again.
Raven, without taking his eyes off the girl, clawed his nails into their faces. Too fast for them to even properly let out a scream, the men gurgled, then went silent as Raven formed fists, collecting skin, eyes, bone and brain matter into his hands. He was aware of the blood spurting and splattering him and the walls. The two gorillas with half-faces, slipped to his feet, while he minced their remains in his hands, through his fingers, and discarded the mar to the floor.
The odd little girl perked up her head, studying him curiously with her oval eyes, her appearance diaphanous, Raven could see straight through her misty but luminous guise.
Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle Page 21