Darien leaned back against the dark, stone walls of the Dungeon, black paint chipping from the surface. Roaring sound waves pulsated throughout them from the stage where a heavy metal band howled uncontrollably, long dark wisps, sweeping over their eyes. Darien grimaced a bit at the throng of drug- induced teenagers crowding the notorious club, their bodies jumping wildly to the beat, their eyes in a trance- like state. Their souls were barren, empty capsules to be used only when the Atrox saw fit. They were all just pawns in its malevolent scheme for world domination.
"Hey". A redhead, probably an initiate, came strutting towards him, a thigh high mini dress clutching to her hips. "Why are you standing here all alone?" She gave him a playful smile and slipped her caramel arms around his neck.
He gave a dry smirk. "I'm not exactly the social type".
"You're a loner?" She pouted a little before bouncing back to her jovial mood. "But that's no fun".
He shrugged, gently pushing her away from him. "Sometimes it's better that way".
She crossed her arms, flipping a few strands of crimson from her hazel colored eyes. "Well, I'm not alone".
He felt a knowing snarl coming on. Denial.
Are you sure about that? He let the wordstrail across her mind and he immediately felt her uneasiness. He had touched the deepest realms of her soul in which she had struggled so desperately to veil. Unfortunately, she had failed. Now infinite thoughts and sleepless nights would wreak havoc upon her, an agonizing reminder of the dilemma that she had attempted to mask here. Then before he could force her any further into the corner that was reality, she turned on her heel, giving him a grin that seemed particularly difficult to maintain. "You're weird"
"What can I say?" He shrugged. "I was born from the devil himself". The girl gave him a final inquisitive stare before disappearing off into the crowd, probably to return home, for whatever she was searching for, she hadn't found it here. Sighing, he resumed his place against the walls when a hand took him by the shoulder. His eyebrows furrowing, he spun around to face his confronter. His expression softened at what he saw there.
"Cassandra", he grinned, relieved by her sudden appearance. "Where have you been?"
"Well", she started, tossing her maroon tresses over her shoulders. "While you were torturing little girls, I was clearing your name with the Cincti".
"And how did you manage that?"
She only laughed. A musical sound like water playing on glass, escaped from her lips. "I told them that you were just a wayward follower. Completely harmless".
He cocked an eyebrow. "And they believed you?"
"Anyone would be crazy to suggest that I would aid in harming Stanton. Of course they believed me".
"Then I must be crazy".
She smiled wickedly, catching the uncertainty in his eyes. "Don't worry". She took his hand to her lips and planted a kiss upon it, gentle but hungry. Innocent but seductive. She averted her deep, captivating eyes to his. "I'll protect you".
He smirked. It amused him how she made constant vows to be his guardian. His savior. But they both knew the truth. "Cassandra, you're only human. You're not strong enough to protect me".
"I know", she pouted in mock disappointment before taking both his hands and placing them tightly against her waist. "Dance with me?"
His entire body tensed, joints immediately hardening up like dry clay. He couldn't remember the last time that he had courted a woman, let alone danced.
"I can't", he gave her a wry smile and turned to leave, perfectly aware that his eyes said otherwise.
"Of course you can", she whispered softly into his ear as she moved in closer. He succumbed a bit, enjoying the feel of her silky, scarlet mini against his fingertips. He slowly worked his way up past her flat, bare waist and towards her hair where maroon waterfalls cascaded down her back. A few wisps flew crazily over her deep, gleaming eyes, rocking from side to side as her body moved sensuously under his palms. Then catching the scars upon her chest, he took a swift jolt back to reality. Realizing his situation, he backed away. He wouldn't become emotionally involved. It would only make his mission more difficult. Her cursed scars had been a reminder of that. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong?"
He stared sympathetically down into those mesmerizing eyes. She had witnessed so much, yet she still remained so… innocent.
"Darien". He turned at the sound of his name to see Tymmie walking towards him, and wherever Tymmie roamed, Karyl wouldn't stray too far behind. He grimaced at their appearance. Next to the various hoops and barbells piercing through their skin, Darien's ear and cartilage ring seemed like nothing. He nodded in greeting, and watched as Tymmie gave his trademark sneer and threw an ink covered arm around Cassandra's waist.
"He bothering you?" The white- blonde inquired, his eyes mischievous.
"I'm fine, Tymmie", she muttered and pulled away from him to take her place back beside Darien. "I told you-"
"It's alright Cassandra", Darien cut in. He turned to Tymmie, his deep, blue eyes, challenging. "I'm not looking for your trust".
"No", Karyl chimed in. "You're looking for our prince. We're just curious as to why".
Darien opened his mouth to stall while grasping for a valid justification, until he noticed that the crowd had ceased to throb. Even the band that had been thrashing so wildly only seconds ago, had silenced. Darien cocked an eyebrow and followed their inquisitive expressions to the doorway.
Tymmie grinned maliciously and gave Karyl a complicated handshake. "I guess we're about to find out".
Stanton passed through the doorway and into the dark club, drenching from the rain. His blonde hair hung in wet clumps, clinging to his skin. Darien averted his eyes to meet those of the Dark Prince, a flame of sapphire rage. Stunned, Darien stumbled back, a worried Cassandra clutching his shoulders. Stanton took sharp steps across the floor, every footstep heard and reverberated throughout the room. The crowd divided as he neared them, making a path for their prince.
"Stanton", Cassandra whispered to herself. Darien turned to stare at her, surprised at her melancholy state. Her eyes were glossy now, entranced and pensive. Darien winced as a pang of anger rushed through his chest. Jealousy? He thought to himself. No. He couldn't be jealous. He had known more vivacious women over much longer periods of time, yet his heart never fell captive to them. Why should he be influenced now? Stanton was closer now, the last group of party- goers, dispersing. Finally he stood in front of them, his aura menacing, pure murder in his eyes.
"What did you say to her?" He reached for his son, but Cassandra pulled him from his grasp.
"Stanton, wai-"
You said that this was between you and me. You never insinuated that she would be involved.
"Stanton-"
I told you that I would avenge my mother and if that means involving your goddess, so be it.
Stanton trembled, a yellow glow falling over his eyes. Then calming himself, he stood still again, the color returning to its normal midnight blue. He smirked a little, his energies growing stronger. "This ends now".
Darien tensed. Was he ready? He moved forward, accepting the challenge. "Ready when you are".
"Darien, you're not strong enough-"
He sighed in annoyance. "Cassandra". He took her by the shoulders. "Get the hell out of here".
Stanton nodded in agreement, though never taking his eyes off of Darien.
"I can't just-"
"GO!" he scolded her, shoving her gently to the side. With that, he gathered his energy, a tight knot growing steadily stronger inside of him. He continued to build, concentrating all of his attentions on that single ball of force. Finally, when he couldn't hold it any longer, he let loose, sending a wave of telepathic energy upon his opponent. Exhausted, he fell to his knees and looked up to see how much damage he had inflicted, only to discover that there was none. Stanton sneered down at him, his arms crossed, a single scratch grazing his cheek. He smirked at Darien's shocked expression as it patched itself back together to reveal clear, unblemished skin.
"Impossible". Darien choked, his eyes wide.
"But it is"
"Stanton!" Cassandra ran at him.
He didn't even bother to look at her. "Get out, Cassandra".
"You can't"
"I'll do what I wish", he raised his voice. "Now go away".
Darien flinched at the hurt look on her features. He had hoped that his verbal blow would chase her off, but she only deepened her persistence.
"Stanton-"
"Run. I'm giving you until the count of three"
"Don't"
"One". He directed his attention at Darien, gathering his energies.
"Please"
"Two". He ceased, ready to unleash his power.
Goddammit, Stanton! Listen to me!"
"Three".
Darien anticipated the blow, but it never came. Opening his eyes, he could see Stanton, his eyes set in awe. Crimson red was now seeping from a deep gash in his cheek. Darien just stared bewildered as his brain worked to uncover what had just happened. Realization finally spilled across his features. Cassandra stood paralyzed, a knife blade resting in her palm. Fresh blood stained the tip and she could only stare as it trickled down the handle and through her pale fingers. Then before anyone could recover from their shocked state, Stanton reared back and threw a blow that sent her staggering towards the wall. A mass of followers sprinted from the spot as she hit the stone and gradually fell to the ground. Darien moved towards her, watching as she rocked back and forth on the dirt ridden foundation, her arms wrapped over her knees, her head tucked into her lap. Long throaty sobs escaped from her lips, suppressed and muffled from beneath her tear- stained arms. Darien searched for words to console her, but he found none. For Stanton had exposed her for what she truly was: helpless. He slipped his arms around her and they both rocked back and forth in a desolate dance, slow and depressing.
"Cassandra", Stanton whispered, his ocean deep eyes flooding with remorse. It seemed as if he were about to apologize when a fist came flying in his direction. He effortlessly tossed it out of the way.
"Mentally or physically, I'm afraid you're no match for me".
'"I beg to differ", Darien lunged at him only to be deflected. He knew that his attack had been rash. Perhaps even trivial. But the instinct to protect her was too strong, and what he had begun, he would finish.
"She gave her life for you"
Miss
"Her soul"
Miss
"And this is how you repay her?"
Miss
He stood, heaving in exhaustion from his effortless attempts, boiling in anger. Finally he swung again, this time landing a blow across the still healing gash that Cassandra had left.
Stanton grimaced.
"But I guess that's just how you get off, huh?"
An obviously annoyed Prince of Darkness scowled and finally sent a well deserved blow slashing across Darien's jaw. Stunned, he backed away and then collapsed to the ground. Unable to move, he groaned from the foundation, too shamed to stare into his father's eyes, too proud to refuse that temptation.
"You were asking for that", Stanton loomed over him, cocking an eyebrow. His expression twisted into a grave one. "What did you say to her?" He restated the purpose for his unexpected visit in the first place.
"Say to who?" Darien coughed, a stream of blood tricking from his lips.
"You know what I'm talking about"
The younger man gave a forced laugh. "I know you talk some crazy shit"
Stanton chuckled with him. "Stubborn till the end. You remind me of-"
"Don't say it", Darien whispered venomously. "And this isn't the end". His mind told him otherwise. He groaned as he started to sink into a dark oblivion and soon Stanton's laughter seemed as distant and distinct as the graceful fall of a snowflake.