My Vampire Prince..-Chapter 129: Steal the idol...if you dare.

Music Recommendation: Night We Met by Lord Huron

Veylar

Nighttime settled over the country covering the entire landscape in its dreary atmosphere.

Cool air drifted across the land, brushing rooftops and the bustling streets, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth. It was not the kind of cold that bit or burned but softer. The perfect opportunity for night’s children to come out to play.

Above the sleeping world, far away in a rural hill, an unfinished building stood, hidden away by the insanely tall obeches. Concrete pillars jutted out awkwardly, and exposed iron rods clawed at the air. On the second floor, where the walls had never been completed and windows were nothing more than open gaps, a figure crouched low near the edge.

He was tall even in that position, his frame broad and unmistakably powerful. His shoulders stretched the dark fabric draped over him with a grand, black, long cloak hanging heavily from his back.

His muscles shifted subtly beneath the cloth with every small movement. The man seemed at peace, his attention solely focused on his object of interest.

His presence pressed down on the space around him, bending the air, making the night feel tighter, heavier, like it was being suffocated by the figure himself.

At his feet sat a cat; a small and dark-furred one. Its hind leg held awkwardly close to its body. The man’s large hand moved through its fur with graceful gentleness even though his long, thin but rough and calloused fingers said otherwise.

The contrast was jarring. A creature that radiated danger, soothing something so helplessly fragile. The cat purred softly, trusting, unaware of the nature of the being it leaned into. It snuggled his body closer to the figures hand, earning a small smile from him.

"Cute."

There was something devilishly magnetic about him. His stillness was calm yet watchful. His aura was sharp, refined, and predatory almost to the point of eerie perfection. The wind seemed to hesitate before brushing against him, slipping past his cloak as though fearful of overstaying its welcome.

As the disturbing sight dragged on under the scared night sky, heavy footsteps echoed faintly from behind.

Another figure approached from the shadows of the unfinished stairwell. He appeared leaner, dressed in muted colors that allowed him to blend easily into darkness. His posture was respectful, cautious, as walked deliberately to the crouched man.

Though his face was handsome in a gentle way, his eyes carried a kind of hardness...one too deceptive to notice.

"Don’t you think so?" Xavriel asked, his eyes not leaving the furry creature.

"If his lordship wishes, then yes." the man responded.

Xavriel let out a deep breath.

"How did the search go, Xrio?" the crouched man asked. His voice was smooth, low, lazy.

"My Lord, we are yet to find anything, my Lord," Xrio answered promptly, lowering his head.

Silence followed for a while.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Just where could you be hiding you little rat?"

The silence resumed back this time more suffocating, filling the hollow space of the building. The man continued petting the cat, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, and let out a quiet chuckle.

"Drop the disguise, witch," he said calmly, his eyes still fixed on the cat.

There was amusement in his tone, but it was cold. "I’d still punish you either way."

An immediate change took place.

The handsome young man stiffened, his form shuddering as magic unraveled. His features twisted and reshaped, the illusion dissolving instantly.

In his place stood the witch Xavriel had taken from Calithar, her true appearance finally exposed. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders, her eyes wide as she dropped to one knee. The woman’s face had debilitated seriously making her look older than she actually was.

Drained of every energy in her body, she collapsed before her second knee reached the ground.

"Master Xavriel," Xrio, whose real name was Amethyst said, bowing deeply.

Xavriel rose to his full height unhurried still maintaining his disturbing calm aura . He lifted the cat into his arms with ease, cradling it against his chest. The animal purred louder, rubbing its head against his collarbone. A soft and almost fond faint smile touched his lips,though it did nothing to warm the atmosphere.

His cloak brushed the ground as he turned toward the open window. Xavriel’s hand smoothened over the feline’s broken leg.

"And the girl?" he asked subtly, his voice coming out a little strained.

"Nothing, my lord."

Xavriel’s smile faded. He exhaled slowly, then fell quiet.

"You are far too useless for my liking, Amethyst," he said at last. "Perhaps rescuing you from that pathetic excuse for a god was a mistake."

Amethyst trembled. Fear flooded her senses as memories surged forward. That look on his face...that very look reminded her of what he had done to her.

Pain, endless inflow of pain seasoned her mind afresh. Endless nights of suffering at his hands. She knew exactly what he was capable of. This was no man, not even fit to be called the Devil or Satan or the lest a vampire.

There was no mercy in this Leviathan, only control... psychological, mental control.

"Please, master," she begged, rubbing her palms in front of her. A full night of whipping and electrocution awaited her if she could sate him.

"Give me more time. I swear to God I will get you the answers you want."

"Really?" Xavriel murmured, his voice low and almost affectionate. "God? Why God? Did I ask God to carry out my instructions or you?"

The look in his eyes dimmed ten shade darker. His pupils and irises were blacker than night’s hand. His deadly, suffocating aura oozed out of him stronger than ever.

"You have no idea..." he drawled walking to the side of the entrance. He pushed the door closed them picked up a metal tool from behind him.

Amethyst’s mouth became dried as she laid her eyes on her new torture equipment for the night: a rusted crowbar.

"...how much that name sickens me..."

"Yes, I—"

Before she could finish, a crowbar struck her face, sending her sprawling to the ground. Pain exploded through her head as warmth streamed down into her hair. She cried out, disoriented, barely able to lift her gaze.

"Too bad. I have a thing against waiting."

Amethyst tumbled across the ground and didn’t stop till her back slammed against the wall.

Xavriel drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. He set the cat down on a low, broken block, positioning it so its back faced them.

"I cannot let my little friend witness such unpleasant sights," he said mildly, gripping the crowbar in one hand as he turned back to her. As he walked, he drew the intimidating crowbar behind him which made a screeching noise as he walked slowly towards her.

"That would be cruel."

Amethyst whimpered, her voice rough and broken.

"Master, please..."

Xavriel dragged along with him the crowbar which screeched effortlessly on the ground as he approached Amethyst’s limp body. His face was emotionless, devoid of even a hint of warmth. His dark outfit and broad body made the situation even more frightful than it already is.

Amethyst pushed herself against the wall, her face becoming ten times older. Ever since took her away, there was no day she never prayed to return back to Calithar.

The person standing in front of her was worse than the Deceiver.

As the crowbar dangled over his shoulder, a grin spread across his lips, his eyes darker than night.

Xabriel raised the crowbar...

"Nighty night..."

... and landed the first strike.

A blunt noise silenced the night that threatened to ear shattering scream...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Lio landed in the human world away from Kesath, it was day. The compass had led him right to the place Elyria had gone in search of Jesse.

"You just can’t sit still can you? And that’s supposed to me my thing." Elyria exasperated as she landed right behind him in a small shrub beside the road.

Lio’s slit eyes scanned the surroundings intensely.

"You know my hunches are never wrong, El. There’s something up with that man and until we find out, we might never know how to help Elena."

"And why are you so damn set on helping her?"

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

Elyria squinted her eyes at him. "You’re acting strange. Come to think of it, you’ve been acting strange ever since Damien brought Elena here. You sure you good?"

Lio gave a lopsided smile that lasted only a second.

"Of course I am."

"Ok then!" Elena breathed out. She looked around with her arms akimbo. "Let’s first find out where we are."

The two stepped out of the small shrub and onto the path beyond it. The road before them stretched out a couple of miles before any building or structure could be seen.

They began their journey immediately. Using their powers in the human world was too risky. Even though they were the only one there, Lio had turned down Elyria’s request to fly instead.

Soon, they came across a peddler selling brake oil and spare parts for cars.

"Howdy folks!" the old, scrunched up man greeted them excitedly.

Lio instinctively pushed Elyria behind him once the man got down.

Elyria rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to thump the back of his head hard.

"Don’t be so dramatic Lio."

Elyria pried open his fingers and walked over to where the old man stood beside his small bicycle.

"Can you please tell us where we are?" she said word by word.

"Why shiver me timbers girly! You’re as good as lost if yuh dunno wher dis here place is!"

The man flashed a knowing grin at Elyria who gagged upon seeing his browned, misaligned thirty two.

"Ugh." she groaned as the man took her hand in his.

The man’s face mellowed down, his eyes scanning her up and down.

"This sick psycho..." Lio squeezed the compass he held in his hand, lifted it and was about to hit it on his head when the old man spoke again.

"Gimme som’n worth it and I’ll answer all yuh quetion." he mumbled greedily.

"We don’t have any money." Lio said sternly looking at the man like the geezer just asked a death wish.

The man eyed him.

" You don’t look like peasants tho..."

Lio lunged at him, not able to take the insult. The old man lowered himself to the ground, using his shaky hands to protect his head.

Elyria, not wanting to drag the matter on, reached into her jean pocket.

"Here’s a quill pen. I heard it’s pretty rare to peasants." she said lifting an eyebrow and emphasizing on the word ’peasant.’

The old man raised his head. In a flash, he snatched the pen from her hand. Elyria gave a satisfied grin.

"I’m Jude, what quetion does yuh huav?" he said grumpily.

"Where is this place?"

"Dystoria"

"What?"

"Dys-to-ri-a"

"Dystopia?"

"You gat cotton in your ears kid? I don’t gat mush teeth but I even can say it properly."

"We’re looking for someone."

"And who might that unfortunate feller be?"

"Jesse."

At the mention of his name, the old man instantly shriveled. He clamped a hand over Elyria’s mouth, rubbing his palm over her lips with force. Elyria tore his hand away from hers with force. The man looked scared, his hands trembling, his face becoming paler than a ghost’s.

’For an old man he sure is strong.’ she thought. She spat out saliva a few times.

"Oh no." the man shook his head vigorously. "Here’s your own back girly. We never met."

Jude rushed to his peddling bike, pulling up the brakes immediately. Jude leapt up in fright, falling to the floor.

"What is your problem you old...person?!" Lio growled, not wanting to insult an elderly even if it were just a mere human.

"That name...that name is a curse!" the man said in a hushed, angry voice voice.

"Why damn it!?" Lio pushed, already losing patience.

"Because it’s the name of the tyrant who rules this place you moron!"