Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle

by Wulf Francu Godgluck

  And the old scars told a very bitter tale. The boy must have been underage when his mate had claimed him, for the child did not look a day over eighteen.

  Bla’Gar’s gut rolled with ruth for the little thing when it curled itself into a protective ball in the corner. It didn’t seem as if the boy was aware of him, perhaps the glass was only a one-way window, but he found no signs that the krypto had been experimented on. There would be no harm in making sure the boy got out, once Bla’Gar had secured Raven’s safety.

  He cut his gaze down the hall when a familiar scent made his blood bubble and hiss in his ears. Every muscle pulsated with raw, maleficent energy as he drew in the smell. The scent of him poured from all over this place. A putrid decay stained every fiber and molecule he had grazed.

  Kalal-yagh.

  Bla’Gar’s snarl rippled the atmosphere, fluorescent lights trembled with his presence before they burst, while electric outlets spat white, hot sparks. Yet the woman, wearing a bloodstained lab coat, farther down the hallway, didn’t even acknowledge him. She just stood, repeatedly swiping a card through a reader, even though the door beeped each time to notify her she had gained access.

  In a flight of pure black rage, Bla’Gar made the world blurr around him before he appeared behind her. His skin itched as it peeled and cracked. The demon below the surface shook in its desire to bring an end to anything it could sink claws into. He popped his neck left and right while his spine snapped. He gripped the woman’s head between his talons, plucked her up as if she was a useless doll, lifted her, and turned her around. She dangled in his hold, and the reason she didn’t respond to his presence became clear to him as he glowered into her eyes.

  She was already dead.

  Nothing more than a hollow shell, a reanimated piece of dead flesh.

  He could see how she had met her end by the horizontal tear running down the center of her face, down her throat and chest, to dip under her clothes. Her eyes were milky, sockets hollowed in. No soul present. Just blood trickling from her lips and ears. The alchemy used to reanimate and bind her back together was faltering. Which meant but one thing.

  Bla’Gar flared his nostrils, Kalal-yagh was fading from existence, and that, Bla’Gar could not have. If he, Kali-yagh, the White Hell, was the demon behind all this, behind Raven’s death and ascension into a Strigoi, Kalal-yagh would die by Bla’Gar’s hands only. No matter that Kalal-yagh was far older than him.

  He glared at the corpse-doll and squeezed the woman’s head, making additional blood and gore leak from her nose, ears and the slit in her face, before he smashed her cranium against the wall. An explosion of bone, blood and brain matter detonated before her body slid along the steel and fell in a heap on the floor, and then, like ripe horse chestnuts, she split apart.

  An effulgent light sliced through his mind, making him tremble.

  There was only one being in this facility that might possess the power to completely end the existence of a legion. If Raven had the capability to weaken demons as he feasted on their blood, could he also possess the aptitude to Ciylos a demon by draining them dry? In all truth demons were souls, though mangled and defiled by their torture in Hell… Which meant Raven was drinking souls.

  Never, not once, had Bla’Gar even heard of such anomaly, for if it existed, legion kind certainly would have known of it. To collect souls without having to coax a human into a contract of selling theirs would be a powerful weapon for Hell. And a threat to Heaven. And a sure reason for Death and his henchmen to interfere.

  Bla’Gar squeezed his eyes shut. Too much had happened to his pet, too much he had allowed to pass, as Clarissa had said: Raven might be far more deadly than any of them understood.

  He trained his gaze on the steel doors the corpse had been set on entering. Bla’Gar’s blood vessels felt as if they would rupture as he peered through the windows, straining his eyes. His heart, a trembling cavity of choler, as he watched his Raven, naked in the middle of the room. Blood shimmered in the light as it dripped from his body, while Kalal-yagh hung limply in Raven’s hold, his pet’s face buried in the demon’s throat.

  Bla’Gar latched his talons into the doors, skewering the steel. The metal screamed as he cleaved them off their hinges in an angry slash. The doors flew down the hallway behind him, reverberating as they slammed into concrete. In his rage, a haze so thick, he failed to pay heed to his human vessel searing away in flaking ash and hissing vapours.

  He sliced his attention from Raven to Kalal-yagh, Bla’Gar’s body going rigid at the sight; long strands of sickly white skin stringed like gum from Raven’s teeth as he tore his mouth away from the demon’s neck. The carcass slumped to the floor, erupting into white flames creating an unworldly sound that made Bla’Gar’s ears ring.

  Bla’Gar roared, and the vicious resonance brought the vampire’s attention to him.

  Raven’s lips curled, displaying sharp fangs, his silvery-white eyes glinting. Kalal-yagh’s blood a wet sheen on Raven’s cheeks, chin, neck and torso.

  His voice held an innocence that scared Bla’Gar. “Hello, lover.”

  Bla’Gar glared at the Strigoi. Despite its familiar appearance, those eyes held something Bla’Gar could not touch, could not taste, could not smell. It was both new and old. Evolved, yet ancient. Pure, undiluted hate stared back at him.

  The Strigoi stepped forward, licking his lips, his glower traveling the length of Bla’Gar’s frame. Raven frowned, staring openly at Bla’Gar’s cocks. Although Bla’Gar knew this thing in front of him held no remnant of his pet, he held a hand in front of his groin, unable to keep the feeling of diffidence clogging his veins.

  Bla’Gar shook it off, closing his eyes, he had no time for insecurity. He had failed his Raven. There was no way he could claim this…thing as his. He wouldn’t be able to look at this creature day after day and be reminded of the beautiful soul it once was. That hell would be too deep, too painful.

  There was just one way out, one single way he could save Raven now.

  He shuddered when fingers grabbed one of his penises, gently scraping a palm along Bla’Gar’s length. “I get it now.” An icy breath washed over Bla’Gar’s skin, “The meaning behind the demon you are…” Bla’Gar frowned, loathe to admit that this thing had always been a part of Raven, and in a way still was. It had the same memories, shared the same experiences. “Correct me if I am wrong, Bla’Gar, but—” Another one of his cocks was seized in a tight hold, the member already filling from the first touch “—you were given each one for every pet you lost?”

  Bla’Gar remained silent, his body like stone… Raven was an intelligent man; it would be easy for him, with the right research and the current predicament, to draw such a painfully accurate assumption.

  A sly chuckle crawled from Raven’s lips, making Bla’Gar’s spine ripple.

  “Their purpose:” Raven gave Bla’Gar a stroke, “to make it that much harder for you to claim the next...either forcing you to take them against their will, resulting in an eternity of them resenting you, or,” those cold lips placed a kiss against the head of one of his cocks, the voice drifting from down below, blowing icy air onto his erection, “wooing them in the human art of bedding, while you battle each and every moment with your own lustful desires to just take them.

  “A Hell within its own Hell...fitting for a demon, is it not…?”

  Bla’Gar clenched his jaw, nails slicing into the flesh of his hand when that mouth greedily took him down its throat. His muscles jerked when Raven licked along the base of his shaft, a fang scraping and drawing blood as it slid along the top, his other two erections clasped tightly while fingers worked them back and forth.

  That mouth let off, breath coming in slow pants. “Such a true symbolic representation of Lernaean Hydra. Difficulties and obstacles that proliferate in the course of accomplishing a task, like a man’s temptation by pleasure.” Raven pressed his face against Bla’Gar’s crotch, sniffing him. “As man conquers one temptation, another comes
to takes its place.”

  The vampire snuffled along his abdomen, letting go of Bla’Gar’s cocks, while smearing his face through Bla’Gar’s chest hair, and finally cupping Bla’Gar’s cheeks and pulling him down toward Raven’s mouth.

  “We were so scared of you that first night.” Those lips trembled, ghosting over his, voice rasping as he continued, “Hurt and angry too at your rejection, however, the sad part is, my Big Bad...” A lick over his lips made Bla’Gar sneer, wanting to devour that mouth so close to his, to taste his pet one last time, yet the knowledge of knowing this wasn’t his Raven kept him back. “If you had showed us these,” fingers brushed his cocks, others cupped his balls, “we would have wantonly laid ourselves bare and let you ravage us.” Lips slammed against his while a tongue warred to gain access.

  The moment Bla’Gar parted his mouth, Raven breathed the words onto Bla’Gar’s tongue, “Now take us, demon.”

  Bla’Gar growled, gripping the back of Raven’s skull, his nails slicing into the scalp, fingers clutching hard, cracking bone. He snapped open his eyes, glaring at the vile creature. “Give him back!” he snarled, and flung the thing across the room.

  It slammed against the wall, sliding down and landing on the concrete floor. It laughed as it pushed itself up. Disoriented and swaying, it stood, a smile curling its lips.

  “You should have taken us before we became all dead and pretty.” Raven clutched at his chest over his heart, a sad expression shadowing his face. “That fucking hurt by the way. You treat everyone you bed like this? No wonder all of them died. Poor bastards never stood a fighting chance… I, however, am already dead.”

  Bla’Gar’s muscles tightened, he narrowed his gaze and pushed onto the concrete under his feet to launch himself at the thing. A slow, searing pain sliced and squeezed through his veins, freezing his frame and throwing him to his knees. His face and body slapped hard against the cold, gray floor, cracking and splitting it upon impact.

  Bla’Gar growled at his naivety. There was no way Raven could physically overpower a demon to feast on them, the little score given to his cock had done the trick. Raven’s saliva must’ve now contained some form of paralyzer, sufficiently strong enough for demons.

  His anger was a volatile beast trapped, cooking inside, while this thing had its way.

  Raven’s feet appeared in front of his vision. A hand snagged Bla’Gar by his hair, lifting him off the floor. Its silvery eyes held black, smoky tendrils inside the irises as it stared back at Bla’Gar.

  “Give him back?” Raven’s face distorted as he snarled, dark shades cutting across his handsome features. “Sure...but consider this, demon... He hates you... Will never love you... Did you honestly think he would care for a monstrosity like you? Where were you when you left us? So carelessly you declared your love to us, laid your heart out on the table for us to pick through and then left…for a pack matter?” Raven spewed his words, spittle landing in Bla’Gar’s beard, some on his lips. But the vampire wasn’t quite done. “Where were you when that thing bit into us? Where were you while we were laying there with our throat ripped open, choking on our own blood, helpless and calling for help, for anyone!” Dark veins spread like an ominous fire under Raven’s skin, twitching in his neck while those eyes smoldered with rage. “Where were you when that stupid bitch stood there, too shocked out of her own mind as we pleaded for her to help us, and she just stood by and watched us die? Where the fuck were you, love?”

  Those word reached into Bla’Gar, tearing and ripping, a pain so ruinous and heartless, he felt ice burn his insides, touching his mind, making him shiver.

  Raven’s face softened, “Would you look at that? I brought the demon to tears. The truth hurts, but I guess I need to thank you for not protecting us, for allowing us to die.” Slowly Raven’s lips spread thin, once again curling at the sides, a Cheshire cat’s smile slithered over his mouth.

  “Death is an eminence that cannot be quenched. It is forever as Time, and even then, Death shall transcend Time itself. But what is the cost of cheating and conquering Death, for is it not that Death itself shall eventually bow to its own name?” Raven released Bla’Gar, sending him crashing to the floor.

  The vampire turned his back, unaware of Bla’Gar pushing himself off the concrete. It seemed that the paralysis didn’t hold its effect too long. Bla’Gar flexed his hands, muscles popping, jaw locked tightly, as he reached for his own chest and pressed his talons past his hairy flesh and into his muscle. It was better this way, not having to look into that face, to see those eyes, to remember the beautiful man who shattered his world as he was about to tear out his own heart.

  Raven’s voice froze him, yet a different coldness spread in the room, becoming a consuming polar quietus that pierced, unrelated to the words dripping from the vampire’s lips.

  “You see, lover, I was given an answer to this question in the form of a vision…more of a revelation. From Heaven Angels fell, their carcasses liquefied fire that plunged upon this earth. Red, glowing stars that besmirched the heavens as they burned, eclipsing the very sun. I stood above all as the world bathed in their blood. And I had become the White Reaper of Death that would wander upon this earth, for I had devoured any and all who had stood in my path to divine eminence.”

  “We rather think not.” Two voices spoke as one, their tone so old, so young, so frigid, Bla’Gar immediately recognized why this icy chill had suddenly, not only invaded this place, but burned his very being, as well as Raven’s.

  The vampire stared at the two figures that had appeared in the room. His gaze fixed on them, his fangs out. His frame shivered.

  Seth watched in horror as his mate was ripped away from the bars by four mutations. Someone had set the uncontrollable ones free. The experiments that had been dumped into a single cell. Left to starve, and eventually slaughter each other for nourishment… If they still had retained their survival instinct. Their filth-stained talons sliced into Lucas’ muscled flesh as if it was butter. One, with its forehead’s skin clawed off and eyes gouged out, sunk its shark-like fangs into Lucas’ throat. Blood and gore erupted in a splat against Seth’s face, some belonged to Lucas, but the rest the remaining pulp after Lucas had popped the creature’s head. Another one of those things ripped into Lucas’ left calf, throwing the massive Lycan off balance, allowing the remaining three to drag Seth’s mate into the darkness.

  He had no time as he flung himself at the bars, putting all the strength his brittle body had into slamming his frame against the metal rods, again and again. They refused to budge. A howl from Lucas was cut short by the sound of gurgling and choking, presumably on his own blood which scented the air, and smothered Seth’s heart.

  He was so weak, so pathetic, he couldn’t save his own mate. Lucas was going to die because Seth was such a sorry excuse for an alpha. He had loved the large Lycan for so long and now he—

  Seth roared in pain as his shift rippled through him. Bones snapped in a sickening symphony as they broke. Tendons stretched, bolting painful flares through his sinews, before they severed and regrew. Muscles seared in splintering agony as they swelled and stretched, but his spine took the most brutal force of his shift. Seth should have been slammed to the floor as his vertebra popped and creaked, but he had already lunged at the bars again. Harder, and with more determined vigor.

  By the sixth attempt, Seth now fully shifted, the bars finally give out, and the cell door snapped from its railings, falling to the concrete, rattling loudly until it settled.

  With the little energy he had left, and the shift stealing it from him, Seth found himself glued to the floor, exhausted, panting in shallow, hard breaths, shivering in his human form.

  His chin shook as the warm tears bubbled and blurred his sight.

  There was no one else. From the first day the callous, young Lycan had stepped into Mr. Bla’Gar’s mansion, Seth had known Lucas was what he’d wanted in a mate, Lucas was who he’d needed as his other half. He was strong, dominant and fearle
ss. Everything Seth would never be. He knew Lucas’ heart wasn’t truly in claiming him, but he hadn’t been able to help himself when Lucas had taken him down in the dungeon, then had proceeded to thoroughly fuck Seth in the bedroom, and finally claim him three weeks later. It had been the night before...all this…and despite everything Lucas had come for him.

  Seth let out a weak growl and tried to push up, calling on his wolf to grant him strength, but the beast was silent inside. His breath surged in defeat as his arms screamed in pain and exertion. He managed to push himself a couple of inches off the floor before a hard rubber sole bit into his exposed back, thrusting him down again.

  A fist grabbed Seth by the hair, peeled from the sticky granite floor with Lucas’ spilled blood clinging to him. “Look at you!” The voice sent a scurry of pulsations over his flesh, while the boot gnawed and twisted into his skin.

  Méric rasped in Seth’s ear, the venom in his voice, cruel and maleficent upon Seth’s soul. “I want to watch you see him ripped apart and die.” Seth’s face crashed against the floor with force, pain detonating through his skull, raking invisible nails to shred along his spine.

  The onslaught of pain continued as Méric dragged him. His scalp stung, strands of his hair caught in Méric’s grip. Light pulsated past Seth’s flickering vision. The air here colder, seeping in from above, sliced into his damp, squalid skin.

  This was dangerous, as a Lycan, the icy air shouldn’t have bothered him, but… His wolf’s silence inside him was a deadly chill far bleaker than the numbing air. A Lycan could lose their inner wolf if they pulled and relied too strongly on the beast’s strength. The circumstances were right: Seth was emaciated by hunger and injured from the demon’s repeated assaults. He knew his wounds weren’t healing properly, and that should have been the first indication. If both Lycan and human were driven to a point, dangling near death, the wolf would sacrifice its existence to save its human. For if the human died, the Lycan died with it.