ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾ ¹
part two
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, death, gore (??) demon/human, fluff (??) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts since the entire one-shot was 15.8k words long--- literally crying rn. ˙◠˙
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you wake with no idea where you are, trapped in a room by yourself, the only form of escape is a rusty metal door, though, who's knocking on it?
꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
𝒴 ou softly groan while cradling your forehead in your palms, eyes quivering open. The space you find yourself in is dimly lit, save for a faint glow in the corner. Sitting up is difficult and you release a small wheeze of pain, noticing the faint bruises of different hues covering your thighs. Your eyebrows twitch as the gravel beneath you digs into your palm, marking your skin with painful indentations.
Groaning, you struggle to find your footing, the world around you spinning and bouncing within your disoriented vision. When you find balance, you take notice that the air carries a slight chill, and it brushes against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in welcoming. It causes a tremor to course through your body, and you can almost swear that you feel your bones rattling beneath your flesh.
Seeking comfort, you wrap your arms around your abdomen in a hug and pivot to examine the enclosure. It suddenly dawns on you that there is an eerie silence, with only the sound of your labored breaths and the gentle trickle of water from the pipes on the wall, echoing softly in your ears.
Your eyes finally find an exit and with a deep breath, you move towards the thick, rusty, metal door; heart thundering in your ribcage. Unwinding your arm from your midsection, you form a fist and tap on the door, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. The silence is deafening for a moment, only broken by the sound of dripping water growing louder and then a knock responds from the other side.
Your body jerks back in surprise, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Your heart races, thumping rapidly, as if it wants to burst out of your chest. Then, there's another knock, this time with a bit more force. The door's thickness muffles the sound, but a faint 'hello' manages to catch your attention. Cautiously, you move forward, your knuckles gently tapping on the door once more. In reply, a quick knock reverberates through the air.
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
A barely audible 'yes' reaches your ears, prompting a sigh of relief to escape your lips. Collapsing to your knees, you lean against the door, the jagged rocks cutting into your flesh. You gnaw gently at your bottom lip, bones aching and protesting.
"Do you know where we are?"
"No."
Disappointment surges through your like a tsunami and you inhale deeply, taking in the smell of mold and damp concrete; it makes your stomach churn and you once again wrap your arms around your midsection. You wait in silence until the voice speaks once more.
"Who are you?"
Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. "What about you?" The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine.
“Ulysses”
The lack of a last name doesn't bother you. The room's silence seeps into your thoughts, leaving you restless, and anxious. The chilling grip of fear tightens around your heart, making you wonder if your family is searching for you. Have they reported you missing? Were you going to die? The thought of death at such a young age, having recently turned twenty-four, is unbearable. Just as despair takes hold, a deep and comforting voice breaks through, providing a much-needed sense of relief.
“You're thinking too much, calm down.”
Your breath escapes in a deep shudder as you lean against the door, the sharp metal flakes digging into your skin. You wanted to― needed to feel some sense of connection, of not being alone in this moment of panic. How did he sense your impending breakdown? The question lingers, but you push it aside.
His voice is a balm, offering both comfort and an unfamiliar sense of security. The flickering light on your left momentarily distracts you, as a shadow flits by and disappears. Intrigue fills your mind, prompting you to rise slowly, your legs trembling beneath you.
As you approach the narrow opening, barely taller than yourself, you tiptoe on the edge of your shoe. A surge of anticipation rushes through you as you realize there are people nearby! Students bustle through the corridor, disappearing into what you presume to be classrooms. The sound of footsteps grabs your attention, prompting you to extend your hand through the gap, only to be met by a pale wall.
The wall possesses a captivating iridescent hue, a blend of gold and orange, shimmering under your touch. The longer your palm rests on its surface, the more intense the heat becomes. Startled, you swiftly retract your hand, cradling it against your chest, and observe with fascination as the wall gradually fades away, dissolving from your view.
"What the hell?"
Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion, unable to process the events that just unfolded. In the midst of your mental fog, a piercing creaking noise assaults your ears, reminiscent of nails scraping against a chalkboard. To your surprise, the small gap you were standing in front of seemed to be moving farther away. Panic sets in as you realize that you are being transported somewhere. Suddenly, a thunderous pounding on the door shatters the air, accompanied by blood-curdling screams that bear no resemblance to the person who was just speaking to you.
Determined, you limp towards the door, dropping to your knees in haste. "Ulysses? Ulysses!" you call out desperately, but there is only silence in response. The once familiar sounds of dripping water and the cool breeze from the draft have vanished, replaced by the antiseptic scent of bleach. As you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have been transported to an entirely different room.
As you glance around, your eyes swiftly capture the sight of crimson splatters on the wall and the disarrayed gravel just a few steps from where you stand. The question lingers in your mind: had, Ulysees been in this room? You didn't want to think about it any longer. The thought becomes unbearable, prompting you to shut your eyes tightly and shield your ears with your hands, trembling against the icy touch of the door's rust.
Knock
As your eyes slowly open, you find yourself reluctantly lowering your hands onto your lap. Startled by another knock, a soft stuttering hiccup escapes your body. Filled with apprehension, you clench your fist and knock back, unsure and frightened. "Hello? Hello!" The voice that responds is higher pitched, a stark contrast to Ulysses' deep voice just minutes ago.
You casually wipe your nose on your sleeve before pressing your palm against the door. "Who's there?" The only reply is a prolonged silence, then a soft shushing noise from beyond the door.
"They'll hear you if you're too loud."
The room falls silent once more before a man finally speaks up. "My name is Charles Langston."
A storm of questions rages through your mind, desperately seeking answers. Who will hear them? What in the name of all that is holy just happened? Were you ever gonna get out of here? Nevertheless, you gather your resolve and take a deep, shuddering breath. "How long have you been here?" Your voice is barely audible as you question him from behind the heavy door.
With a soft sigh, Charles rests his head against the rusty door. He couldn't stand being asked that question because he had lost track of time; it could have been days, weeks, or even months since he arrived. The only certainty he had was that they were under constant surveillance. (Not to mention he had been stuck here for more than 13 cycles.)
Charles wasn't always alone in this room; there were two others, twins named Riley and Nick. They had stumbled upon a small hatch on the ceiling, and Riley, the brunette had successfully navigated through it. The boys were optimistic that she might uncover an escape route.
They could go home!
They couldn't have been more mistaken. It had been mere minutes since she entered, and now they found themselves sitting on the rough gravel floor, their hearts pounding in a frenzy.
Thump, Thump, Thump, Thud.
A warm and moist substance splattered against Charles's cheek, prompting him to instinctively reach up and feel the liquid. As he pulled his hand away, his wide, terror-filled eyes beheld the scarlet blood staining his fingertips, slowly dripping down to collect in his palm. Casting his silver gaze toward the ground, he found the expression of terror and horror on Riley's head― now detached from her body― waiting for him and it filled him with revulsion.
Her head had been severed, her body was probably still lodged in the hatch, stuck. Nick's screams reverberated in the room as he clutched the head, eyes wide in horror. "No, Riley, please! Riley!"
The room fell into silence as a gentle warmth enveloped his face, seeping down to his neck and chest. Nick's body slumps to the side, his head coming to a rest near Charles's feet. With a swift motion, the boy muffles his mouth with his hand, smearing the blood across his lips. He stayed quiet, retreating to the corner of the room. They were dead.
“Charles? Are you still here?”
The boy's eyes blinked rapidly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil as he vigorously shook his head, desperately trying to shake off the haunting thoughts. "Oh, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts for a moment. A couple of days at least." He lied, concealing the gruesome truth that the bodies had already begun to decay while he was still trapped in that room. The putrid stench of death lingered in the air, making it difficult for him to suppress the rising bile in his throat. He knew all too well that it took around 3-5 days for bodies to enter the decomposition stage.
And when he closed his eyes to sleep, they had vanished without a trace. Waking up to their absence brought a bittersweet mix of relief and sadness. Now, he found himself completely alone in an unfamiliar place.
“I don't know how long I've been unconscious, I woke up 30 minutes ago- I'm guessing anyways.”
Charles despises the silence that envelopes the room as you fall into a momentary recluse. He can’t help but scoff under his breath, reminiscing about the times he used to tell his mom how much he enjoyed the tranquility when his siblings were away.
The stillness of the house provided him with the perfect environment to think and focus on his training. However, after being confined here for days on end, with only silence as his constant companion, he has grown to despise it. The quietness that once welcomed his thoughts now feels unwelcoming and suffocating.
“I met someone. . .”
Beyond the thick door, the person resting acted as a much-needed distraction. Your soothing voice is akin to a slow, calming stream, instilling a feeling of safety and reassurance in him. A soft hum escaped his lips, his tired eyes fluttering with fatigue. After the twins vanished from the room, it was difficult for him to sleep.
"His name was Ulysses, after the room switched, I couldn't hear him anymore."
Charles let the name ferment in his mind. Memories of the countless people he had encountered flooded his mind, triggering an excruciating headache that made his eyes involuntarily roll upwards. Gripping his head tightly, his body convulsed on the rough gravel, as if trying to shake off the torment.
A sudden wail breaks free from his mouth, catching your attention from the opposite end of the door. Charles can make out the muted pounding of your knuckles—yet it's as if his mind is submerged in water, the sound is distant and blurred. The images in his head are murky and jumbled, like scattered pieces trying to piece together the memory unfolding in front of him.
In the dimly lit room, Charles lay bound to a table, his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing figure that stands imposingly before him. With an otherworldly, purplish grey skin and stormy red eyes. His physique and face were nothing short of extraordinary, resembling that of the mighty Greek gods.
Charles tried to listen to the man's words, but no sound seemed escaped his lips. Bound to a table, he found himself surrounded by bottles of liquid gold and burgundy red. Charles couldn't budge an inch; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. It was only upon closer inspection that he noticed the astonishing four additional arms sprouting from the man's back, a detail he had failed to mention earlier.
As the man inches closer, his eyes are like a bottomless pit; devoid of any emotion, and the sight sends shivers down Charles' spine. At last, the boy begins to comprehend his words. "Check the surrounding area. Remember these five names. Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath. If you help my mate escape safely, I'll contemplate whether or not to kill you." The words he spoke were laced with deceit, indicating he had no qualms about the boy's fate, but Charles remained unfazed.
Without warning, darkness envelops him, as the names of people he knew or had heard of flicker before his eyes, each one appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of names, his own is noticeably absent, like a missing puzzle piece.
Riley, Ulysses, Nick, Elijah, Sophie. Charles pondered over the sequence of names, perplexed by their significance as he desperately tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded in just a matter of minutes. To his surprise, the letters composing the words started to fade away, leaving behind only the first letter of each person's name. Charles furrowed his brow, his eyes tracing the delicate, wispy blue letters that floated in front of him. However, amidst the disappearing names, a sense of unease washed over him as he noticed the absence of your name.
R U N E S
Recalling the man's instructions, he grimaced at the memory of the unsettling encounter. 'Scan the area. Memorize these five names: Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath.' But who was this 'mate' he was referring to? Charles dismissed the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Was it possible that the man was hinting at looking for the ancient runes in the room? Could that be the key to escaping this place? As he struggled to catch his breath, the only sound that echoed in his ears was the sound of your voice.
“Charles?! Are you alright?”
With a trembling hand, the boy reached out to tap on the door, offering you a moment of calm. Charles lay motionless, struggling to breathe, his chest heaving with each gasp. His eyes darted to the wall, scanning the monotonous grey surface. Suddenly, a flash of iridescent colors drew his gaze, a blend of teal and fuchsia dancing before him.
As he concentrated, the colors began to take shape. Charles was spellbound as a falcon materialized before him, wings spread wide as if soaring through the air, its beak slightly agape, and wisps of air seemingly escaping.
That was it, that was the RUNE: FalconsBreath.
Quickly, he scanned the wall once more, and there it was - a striking mix of green and pink hues that drew his attention. The shape extended upwards, tapering off into pointed ends. Antlers! His gaze traveled downward until it landed on the source of the movement, an elk— his eyes widened as he fought to rise to a sitting position. That was the RUNE: Helka
Charles once more cast his gaze in every direction, desperately seeking any alternative emblem. His eyes moved swiftly, like a hummingbird in flight. Yet, to his dismay, there was no other iridescent color that shimmered and rippled.
He stumbled over your name slightly as he talked. Moving towards the door, he held onto the hope that his assumption was accurate.
“Charles? Are you alright? What happe–”
"Sh, I'll fill you in later, but right now– do something for me. Okay?" You fell silent for a moment, and he could almost hear the cogs whirring and grinding inside your mind.
“What is it?”
With a shuddering breath, the man nervously tapped his foot, his eyes fixed on the wall behind them. "Take a glance at the wall behind you, do you notice anything shimmering?" Despite feeling somewhat ridiculous uttering those words, it was their sole hope for progress.
"Charles, what's going on? Are you sure you're okay?"
"Just do it! Please." After a brief pause, he picked up on the sound of your movements and then a sharp gasp. "What's happening? Did you find something?" His voice carried a sense of desperation, tinged with just a bit of hope.
“It's a yellow and silver color, it's shaped oddly like an Ox?”
That was it! It was the very first rune uttered by the man: Velteox. His heart leaped into action, pounding vigorously within his chest. He wracked his brain to remember the last rune shared by the man, edging closer to the door, his body tightly pressed against the peeling rust and metal. "Good, good-" he muttered, his voice stuttering slightly as he regulated his breathing and took a long, replenishing breath.
" Look around again, do you see an owl anywhere?" He could hear your muttered frustrations, but he didn't let them get to him.
“No? I don't think so- wait- it's on the floor. It's massive. It's pink.”
" You might think I've lost my mind. But trust me, I need you to press those runes, even if it seems pointless. Okay?" He sensed your skepticism, but this was the only chance they had to get out of here. After a moment of silence, you finally gave in and agreed.
Charles came to a sudden halt, his eyes scanning the surroundings anxiously. Where on earth was the Dragon? Both he and you had managed to discover two of the mystical animal runes, but one remained elusive. Frustration gnawed at him as he absentmindedly chewed on his thumb, his teeth tugging at the skin. Suddenly, your voice jolted him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment.
“The door, the door is a dragon.”
Charles moved closer to the door, a puzzled expression on his face. "What do you mean?" Silence. He reached out and touched the door, observing as small metal fragments disintegrated and fell to the ground. Brushing his hand over the pieces, he finally understood your message. The more fragments fell, the clearer the image of the Dragon became.
"Good, good, listen and follow carefully. Hold your palm on whatever animal I tell you, alright?" He could hear your voice clearer now that he was standing closer to the door. Your agreement makes his body relax and he prays that whatever he planned on doing would work.
"The Ox, place your palm against it."
Scrambling away from the door, you discovered the shimmering Ox rune. Upon touching it, a strange yet comforting warmth enveloped you in a welcoming embrace, unfamiliar yet reassuring. Charles called out to you, his voice resonating in the chamber. "Now, the Owl." You reluctantly pulled your hand away from the Ox and strode to the middle of the chamber. Kneeling, you pressed your hand against the Rune, feeling its intense heat. The sensation is almost unbearable, yet strangely comforting, much like the Ox. With a resolute tone, Charles uttered, "Leave the rest to me."
With a heavy sigh, the boy released a deep breath and pressed his hand against the Dragon, only to feel a searing pain as it turned a deep shade of red. Reacting swiftly, he pulled his hand away and clutched it to his chest, his eyebrows furrowing and a groan escaping his lips. Taking cautious steps backward, he pivoted on the balls of his feet until he spotted the Elk.
Still wary of the previous encounter, he extended his other hand with trepidation, relieved when it didn't burn. Charles's lips thinned as he closed his eyes, silently uttering a prayer. He desperately hoped that he hadn't given you false hope about their chances of escaping this place. Gathering his resolve, he approached the Falcon and hesitantly laid his hand upon it.
Nothing.
With a deep frown, the boy dropped to his knees, realizing that escape was impossible. He had deceived you, leading you to believe that the RUNES held the key to their escape. Lost in self-blame, Charles remained oblivious to the door opening noiselessly, despite its rusty state. As you stood up from the floor, tears welled up in your eyes, causing your vision to blur. "Charles?" His appearance matched the vulnerability in his voice- a bit scrawny with untidy brown hair and clothing. Startled, he tensed and turned his head, his eyes widening as tears also clouded his sight.
From a simple walk, it swiftly evolved into a brisk jog and then escalated into an exhilarating sprint as you tackled him into a warm embrace. With a soft thud, he collided against the wall, but he didn't let go, instead, he tightly wrapped his arms around you. He whispered your name softly, his voice tinged with disbelief as if he couldn't fathom the reality of you being there beside him.
With a nod, you stepped back. Meeting him in person was an exhilarating experience, as he was the first person you had encountered face to face. "I can't believe it, I'm here," you exclaimed. Before he could utter a word, a piercing, high-pitched creak echoed through the room, resembling the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard. Once again, you found yourselves rotating. In response, both of you huddled closer together, holding your breaths in anticipation. It seemed like an eternity before the rotation finally halted.
You found yourselves in a fresh room, facing a new door that was starkly different from the old rusty metal one. This door was a deep black, standing out against the now-white walls. Charles confidently got up, leaving you behind as he made his way to the door. You shook your head, inching away. There was something about that door that felt familiar.
The sensation it evoked was akin to the Runes you had handled earlier – a mixture of warmth and safety, but with a subtle tinge of danger. Your mind was flooded with warning signals, urging you to proceed with caution. "Wait, Charles!"
The door felt familiar to Charles. It was reminiscent of the Dragon Rune he had encountered. Aware of its perilous nature, he still yearned to be back with his loved ones. With determination, he twisted the doorknob, causing the lock to click open, revealing a dark corridor. Charles huffed out and smiled, casting a glance in your direction. "See? It's fine, let's g-."
Warmth splattered across your face, sullied your hair, drenched your clothes, and colored your left eye. Charles collapsed to the ground, his knees hitting the gravel loudly and his body lurching forward. His head rolled towards you, still spurting out blood. Your eyes widened, mouth agape as you locked eyes with Charles' head. You could do nothing but sit there, heart pumping a mile a second and breath faltering. There was a scream lodged in your throat, wanting to escape but too scared to even attempt. "Charles?"
The enclosure trembled under the weight of heavy footsteps, but you were too terrified to even move, horrified at the death of Charles. Something monstrous crouched to enter the doorway, large and muscled, with grey-tinged skin and husks protruding from its mouth. "I apologize deeply for the delay My Lady, I pray to the Demon Lord for your forgiveness." it rumbled, dropping to its knees and inadvertently crushing what was left of Charles.
Blood splattered the walls as you lost consciousness, your eyes fluttered and then rolled to the back of your head. The Beast's eyes widened and he rose from his position, and with two large steps, he was able to pick you up, nestling you within his arms. He looked down at the head that rested just a few feet away from you and sneered. "Farlila filth."
With your well-being as his top priority, he swiftly exited the room and embarked on a journey down the seemingly endless hallway. "Letter Master Ulysses, we have the Queen."
Watching your lashes quiver and your nose twitch, the woman sees your eyes open, squint, and then close once more. With a gentle smile, she approaches you. "Good Evening, My Lady, my name is Elmira De Brawnheller, it is an honor to serve as your personal maid."
In an instant, your eyes spring open, and you hastily retreat to the far end of the bed, putting some distance between you and the mysterious woman. "Who are you? Where am I?" you blurt out, your voice filled with a mix of confusion and alarm. The woman's smile widens as she gracefully takes a step back, revealing her identity.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Elmira De Brawnheller, the esteemed head maid and your personal servant. As for your current whereabouts, you are in the second bedroom of the illustrious Vempes Palace, under the watchful eye of the Master."
Vempes Palace, what the hell was that? Where the hell was that? And could you get home from there? You rise from the bed with a puzzled expression, "Where exactly is Vempes Palace? I just want to go home." Elmira's mouth contorts into a frown. "Vempes Palace is situated in the Lomaliue Region, under the dominion of the Master."
As she explained, you seized the opportunity to dash towards the door, escaping while Elmira observed you with concern in her eyes. "Madam! Please don't sprint in the corridors! You might harm yourself!" Paying no heed to her caution, you yanked the door open and veered right, your feet moving silently on the luxurious velvet floor. Your head swiveled back and forth, searching for an alternate corridor to explore, gliding past other women dressed as maids.
Elmira, who follows behind you, casually waves the women away, silently telling them to leave you be, before continuing her trek. She gasps softly when you crash roughly into Ghallahan, hitting the floor with a thump. The knight immediately drops to his knees, hands hovering over your body.
"M-my Lady, I didn't see you, I apologize for my lack of attention, please, punish me." You shuffle back from him quickly, bumping into Elmira behind you. The woman grabs your hand and pulls you up. "My Lady, I understand that you're confused, I know that you would like to go home, but this isn't a discussion you should be having with us– rather the Lord of this palace."
You pull away from her, standing sandwiched between the two of them. "Where is he? The one who kidnapped me–." You whirl around to face Ghallahan, the pieces of your memory falling into place, "You murdered Charles." Elmira furrows her brow. "My Lady, Master is the one who rescued you, once someone enters The Rotation Chamber, it's nearly impossible to escape."
Your face twists into one of confusion, your little human heart pumping a mile a minute. Elmira, sensing your turmoil, wraps an arm around you and steers you back in the direction of your room. "Let's wait for Master to get back, I'm sure he'll explain everything."
Elmira doesn't mind your lack of answer, just smiles at Knight Ghallahan and leads you inside the room.
As Elmira skillfully weaves your hair into intricate plaits, you find yourself lost in a trance while gazing into the mirror. The elegant dress drapes your figure in a long, pristine white, gently cascading down but still clinging gracefully to your curves. Its fabric is almost translucent, yet you observe how it magically transforms into a denser material, cleverly concealing your bosom and lower body.
"Elmira, when will he get here?"
The lady softly hums as she delicately places a diamond-encrusted pin in your hair. "Master will be back later today following the triumphant plunder of the Esdeath Organization and Rotation Chamber. You are requested to join him for dinner."
Your time at Vempes Palace has been just shy of two weeks, with Elmira and the perpetually flustered Ghallahan being your main companions. The luxurious lifestyle, the constant pampering, and the extravagant meals are things you have yet to embrace. In truth, you find it all quite distasteful.
"What is he like?"
Elmira, surprised at your question, sucks her teeth softly and stops her movements, a small smile gracing her lips. "Master is warm, reliable, fair, understanding, and above all else, honorable." Your eyes find her face from the mirror and you notice the wispy look of recalling on her face.
However, her sudden change in demeanor leaves you puzzled as she mentions, "Nonetheless, Master is not very communicative, and tends to take a lot upon himself." You grunt softly in acknowledgment and drop your eyes down to your lap, your hands laying bunched together, wrist adorned with pearls and other small dainty jewelry. Elmira's voice startles you as she speaks again and you look up.
"While Master may appear distant and aloof, My Lady, please know that he would never do anything to hurt you. He values your happiness above all else and would never do anything that goes against your desires. "
A scoff escapes you involuntarily. "But here I am, trapped against my will, and utterly bored." The sentence is muttered under your breath, but Elmira, a feline demon, catches every word and her lips tug into a gentle frown.
Without fail, you begrudgingly adhere to the same monotonous routine every day at Vempes Castle. Get up. Have breakfast. Bathe. Explore the greenhouse. Listen (albeit unwillingly) to Ghallahan's war stories. Enjoy some tea. Dinner. Sleep.
"Is there a library?"
A spark of enthusiasm ignites in Elmira's eyes as your question reaches her ears. It's not often that you seek anything while under her watchful care, and so her surprise quickly transforms into pure elation. "Of course My Lady, Shall I be your escort?" She does her best to conceal her immense happiness, relieved that you're slowly but surely finding comfort within the grandeur of the palace.
You can't help the delicate smile that touches your lips at her enthusiasm. "Yes, please Elmira." If you were going to be here for a little bit, you might as well enjoy the small things you loved while being in your world— or were you still in your world? It didn't matter, you enjoyed reading books and would do so now.
Elmira steps away from your seated position and you rise from the white chair, glad that she had put you in flats rather than heels. Despite your involuntary confinement, you find yourself growing closer to Elmira as you intertwine your arm with hers.
Elmira, the head maid, has a unique way of guiding you through the castle. Instead of leading from the front, she walks beside you, subtly influencing your path while respecting the hierarchy. (Though seeing as Elmira was the head maid, she had a bit of leeway. )
Despite your protests about the rigid rules and your lack of royal status, Elmira remains firm. The walk isn't too long, it passes by as you take in the castle decor while stopping to politely greet the servants and knights ( who always take their job a bit too seriously by dropping to their knees, leaving you to fuss to Elmira all the while helping them up from the floor).
The two of you stop in front of a large pitch-black door that stretches high to the ceiling. The doorknob, on the other hand, gleams with a pristine silver hue. Elmira notices the awe in your eyes and takes a step back, releasing her hold on your arms. "This is as far as I go, My Lady. Servants are not allowed inside of the Library." Your eyebrows knit together and your lips form a cute pout, reflecting your disappointment. "Well then, let's find something else to do," you suggest.
The feline demon shakes her head and gracefully bows to you, a knowing smile gracing her features. "I'll be waiting just outside if you require my assistance," she assures you. Her voice urges you to enter, and with a hint of reluctance, you grasp the handle and gently push open the surprisingly light door.
The moment you step into the room, the cozy atmosphere embraces you. The library is like a sanctuary of knowledge, adorned with an assortment of books, maps, globes, and charming trinkets. With a soft thud, the door closes behind you, undeterred, you venture deeper into the library, twirling in awe. "Oh my goodness, this is incredible!" you whisper in disbelief.
Your fingertips glide along the dusty railing, leaving a trail in the layers of cobwebs. Your immediate thought is to find a book about the language spoken here. While Elmira and Ghallahan are fluent in your language, the majority of the staff communicate in a foreign tongue, unfamiliar to your world.
With narrowed eyes, you scan the area for the elusive letter 'L', carefully descending the stairs to expand your field of vision. A spark of excitement ignites within you as the golden letter finally comes into sight. However, instead of rushing towards it, you take a leisurely approach, exploring the room and daring to touch forbidden objects along the way.
Eventually, you arrive at the bookshelf, and your quest is met with instantaneous success. Lomaliue, the name Elmira had mentioned, is the place where you were held captive. Lomaliue Region. Your fingers glide gently over the book spines, but alas, your efforts prove fruitless.
A frown creases your brow as you raise your gaze, your eyes eagerly scanning the shelves until they alight upon it—just beyond your reach. You spot a ladder nearby and with a determined grip, you tug it towards you, grappling with its weight. After positioning it perfectly, you embark on the climb, your legs trembling and your annoyance growing at the impractical length of your dress. Finally, you come to a halt at the 7th shelf, clutching the ladder with unwavering strength, leaning in to retrieve the book that had ensnared your attention.
"Aha! Lomaliue Language and History."
At the sound of your sudden exclamation and excitement, your grip on the ladder momentarily slackens, causing you to sway backward. Your eyes widen in alarm as you frantically wave your arms in an attempt to regain your balance. "Whoa, whoa, oh shit."
The ladder starts to tip backward, now standing upright away from the shelf, leaving you flailing in mid-air as you struggle to lean it back against the shelf. "E-Elmira!"
Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally steady yourself against the bookshelf. However, the impact of your landing causes the bookshelf to come crashing down, taking you along for the ride.
You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing for a jarring collision, but it never happens. Instead, you experience a sensation of weightlessness, as if gliding through the air. You cautiously open one eye, then the other, feeling a surge of tension as you realize you are indeed floating. Before you know it, you and the bookshelf both touch down on the ground.
"You're quite the clumsy one."
A shudder travels down your spine and to the tips of your toes, sending goosebumps to trail up your arms. The voice, deep and velvety, lacks any emotion yet feels strangely familiar. There's an elusive quality to it, hinting at hidden secrets just beneath the surface. Inside the dimly lit library, your eyes dart nervously from shelf to shelf, desperately trying to locate the source.
You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest, only to collide with an unseen obstacle behind you. Your panic-stricken eyes find nothing, and as your breath catches, you reluctantly close your eyes. With trembling legs and an urgent need to relieve your bladder (because, let's be honest, you were on the verge of peeing yourself), you turn around and come face to face with... another bookshelf.
Placing your hand on your chest, you let out a sigh of relief, even though the danger wasn't completely gone - the person was still lurking in the library. Gritting your teeth, you gather your dress and take a deep breath, determined to make a break for it. Grateful for your choice of flats, you sprint off, book clutched tightly in your hand.
You swear you hear a chuckle of amusement behind you, but frankly? You did not give a flying fuck. Reaching the entrance in record time, you push open the door and collide with a surprised Elmira, who embraces you. Finally feeling safe, you relax in her arms and exhale deeply.
Just for a moment, she looks surprised before breaking into a smile. But that smile doesn't last long once she catches sight of the book you're holding. She's quite the expert at changing moods, isn't she?
"Ah, My Lady, books within the Library must st-." She pauses abruptly, her gaze shifting to the Library doors closing behind you. Her demeanor changes once more, a grin returning to her face. "Forget about that, let's head to the greenhouse instead." You put on a smile and nod, following her lead, but you steal a glance over your shoulder and catch sight of a pair of warm, glowing eyes right before the door closes. Is it possible? You shake your head in disbelief and continue walking with Elmira.
As you step into the Greenhouse, a wave of familiar scents engulfs you - the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and lilacs. It's as if the air itself is whispering tales of home, tugging at your heartstrings. You can't help but feel a pang of longing for the place that seems to be slipping further away with each passing day. Deep down, you sense that this sanctuary might become your new haven. Elmira, the ever-silent companion, offers no false promises or illusions of this castle "Master" taking you home, she didn't delude you with hope.
Outside, darkness encroaches, but within the Greenhouse, an eternal sunshine prevails. The birds, their cheerful chirping filling the air, find solace in the majestic tree that stands tall at the center. Butterflies gracefully flutter about, their delicate wings brushing against the vibrant flowers that adorn the winding paths. Here, all sounds are hushed, as if the world itself has taken a pause. This sanctuary, your sanctuary, offers respite from the monotony of the castle. And Elmira, as always, stands ready to lend her silent support, should you choose to accept it.
As you make your way towards the cozy seating area (thoughtfully installed after your request to have a spot to sit outside.) you sink into the cushions and lean back, pulling the book out from under your arm. With a gentle tilt, you position it to bask in the shade provided by the branches and leaves above. Here you are, sitting beneath the trees, engrossed in the stolen treasure from the Library.
Yet, in reality, you are captivated by the soothing melody of the babbling brook flowing behind the Greenhouse. This enchanting spot has become your refuge within the castle, and with each passing day, you find yourself drawn to it even more. What a truly magnificent place it is.
In all honesty, there's no need to be scared of this place. They weren't doing anything to harm you. You were fed when you were hungry, given a hot bath (though it would be better if you could clean yourself) this beautiful Greenhouse— you wouldn't count the haunted Library, that place was out of the picture and Elmira— yeah you'd count her. But aside from the bathing situation, it wasn't all that terrible.
You weren't naive (maybe a few missing brain cells, but...), you knew there was no way out even if you wanted to leave. Where would you even go? You had no idea of your location or what lay beyond, but for now, you were safe. Still, you couldn't help but miss your phone and movies.
"Why are you so scared?" You halt what you're doing and lift your gaze, seeing as you had said the question out loud. The inquiry hits you like a punch to your chest, leaving you momentarily speechless. 'Maybe because I'm surrounded by monsters, have no way of getting home, and I'm trapped here.'
However, what awaited you upon your return home? Was it a distant family? A physically demanding nursing job that left you exhausted, or the monotonous routine of eating ramen noodles and hot dogs for every meal? Maybe it was the solemn reminder of your dog's ashes. Your life may have been a complete mess, but it was undeniably yours.
With the book placed delicately on your chest, its Lomaliue text unintelligible to you, you close your eyes and surrender to the soothing symphony of the Greenhouse. Its harmonious melodies embrace you, guiding you into a tranquil sleep.
"Cold."
When he arrives to fetch you, your voice is soft, sweet, and still heavy with sleep. Elmira, unable to bring herself to disturb your much-needed rest, alerts the Master of the castle instead. He pays no mind to the fact that you had essentially missed meeting him for the first time and had exited the Library to bring you back to your room.
Elmira observes as he carefully removes the book from your chest, stooping down to admire your delicate features and the slight drool escaping your lips. His chuckle holds small traces of humor and is almost carried away by the wind. Retrieving the stolen book, he sets it aside and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, like you weighed nothing but a feather. Turning to Elmira, he nods, "You're dismissed for tonight, 'Mira. Thank you."
With a bow of her head, the feline demon watches him depart, her hands tightly intertwined in worry. She knows all too well that Master would never bring harm to the Lady, but her concern for the poor girl lingers.
As you gradually awaken, your eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep and fatigue. Your head and cheek find solace against a comforting warmth, while the hands that gently grasp your thighs and curl beneath your back make you feel as though you've awakened in the heavenly realm.
Their voice, with its deep resonance, melts you into a warm, sticky puddle. It's velvety and profound, similar to before but with an added allure. "Sleep, little human, I've forgotten just how weak your kind is." Despite the urge to take offense, there's no malice in his words, just a simple observation.
But who is carrying you now? It's not Elmira or Ghallhan. Before you can even ponder further, his voice soothes you once more. "You're thinking too much, calm down." Oddly enough, his words bring a sense of comfort, even though they shouldn't. ( probably because you were half asleep. ) Your soft, drool-coated cheek rests back against his chest and your eyes flutter ( and scarily roll back ) shut. Back into sleep.
Waking up from your deep sleep, it feels like an eternity before you manage to crack your eyes open. Stretching your body like a lithe feline, you let out a small groan. The room is bathed in a soft moonlight glow, indicating that you haven’t been asleep for too long. Without much time to observe your surroundings, a deep, tranquil voice suddenly speaks.
"You're awake, good."
A tremble races down your body and you hop out of the bed, crumpling to the floor in a heap. You whine at the pain but you quickly refocus your attention, scanning the room with wide eyes before stopping, finding it- him? Sitting there. His skin is a deep purple-grey, his features sharp, eyes narrow, and gaze like an empty void, which contrasted with his dark red eyes that appeared almost bloody. His ears are pointed, and his muscular frame seems to take up the whole room. Wait, are those four additional arms?
"Who the hell are you?! Elmira!"
With an exasperated sigh, the man's eyes rolled dismissively as he got up from his chair, casually tossing a bundle of documents onto the table. "Elmira won't be around tonight. You'll have to wait until morning to see her," he stated matter-of-factly. He watched as his firey little human mate stumbled backward, nearly tripping in her haste.
What a clumsy little thing she was.
"You didn't answer my question." You bite out.
"Why should I?” He observes you intently as you struggle to respond, but his teasing expression softens as tears begin to form in your eyes. Stepping towards you, he tilts his head slightly as you take a step back, his flowing black hair framing his face."I am the sovereign of this realm, of this dreary fortress. You may call me Ulysses."
Ulysses nearly breaks into a grin as your eyebrows knit together, a look of recognition washing over your eyes before being replaced by bewilderment. "N-no, that can't be right." The voice you recalled was gentle, and comforting. His, however, was anything but.
.
.
.
“Who are you?” Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. “What about you?” The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets can be heard. Doubt creeps in and you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your spine.
“Ulysses”
.
.
.
Despite his apparent indifference to whether you believed him or not, he takes a step closer, and this time, you stand your ground. Swallowing thickly you lift your chin in defiance and glare, you didn't care if he was The Pope, or hell Barack Obama. "Why am I here? I want to go home."
Ulysses clasps his hands behind his back and lifts his gaze to your gown, noticing how the fabric that would usually hide your perky breast is bunched and amiss, from your bizarre sleeping patterns and abrupt fall from the bed. This reveals your enticing round areolas, a detail that might have gone unnoticed had he been a mere mortal.
With a voice that exudes honesty and is devoid of deceit, he delivers a harsh reality that you struggle to accept. "Nothing is awaiting you there, no family who truly cares," he states matter-of-factly. The fact that your vanishing in the upper realm didn't even cause a ripple in their lives is unfathomable.
Filled with disbelief and anger, you take a determined step forward, challenging his words. "You're lying!" He moves closer, his aura enveloping you, causing your skin to tingle like static electricity. "Why would I deceive you? Tell me, ao bewl ¹, if I were to send you back home, what would be your next move? Missing a month of work has made you lose your job." ( my love ) ¹
Ulysses observes the way your pretty eyes widen, mouth gapes open, eyebrows twitch, and doubt fills your gaze. "A month? I've only been here for two weeks." Is that why Elmira seemed to skip the conversation when you asked about how many days you had been here? ( Instead from then on, you started to just count the days when you woke up. )
"Time seems to slip away faster than you can fathom, little human." His eyes flicker down to his wrist, stealing a glance at his watch. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he looks back at his petite "captive" and suggests, "When you feel ready, Elmira will guide you downstairs for breakfast. Take a little more time to rest." Even with the lack of response he takes his leave.
Your trembling bottom lip and the pressure of your nails digging into your palms reveal your distress. Why is this misfortune befalling you? What have you done to deserve it? You have always been compassionate, kind, and patient. How could you have possibly erred in your short existence? Suddenly, the sound of raindrops dancing outside grabs your attention.
The balcony doors grant you a front-row view of the natural world, and you yearn to immerse yourself in its wonders. With a heavy heart, you rise to your feet and reluctantly make your way towards the doors. As you forcefully pull them open, the cool air and gentle raindrops caress your face and skin. You find solace as you lower yourself onto the concrete, resting your head against your folded knees, and allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
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