In a whirlwind of searing rage, I crashed stories down upon the concrete floor, my fists splaying dust and debris everywhere and sending back the cultists in a startled frenzy.
They waited momentarily for the dusty haze to dissipate, their white eyes appearing starkly behind the darkness of their obscured hoods, raising their daggers toward me with trepidation.
“Are...are you the goddess Lucretia?” One cultist responded shakily. “Here to bless us and our master with the will of the avowed.”
“Not god,” I growled “tonight I’m your devil.” As I turned upward, my eyes beating, pulsating, like a heart, before I resumed flight and tore my white hot fingers like claws through his flesh.
“Arghh!” The cultist screamed, his blood splattering through his robe and leaking down my crimson painted arm, dripping off the tops of my fingers and plummeting to the floor with an echoing plop, while I eyed the other cultists, who quivered, the daggers slipping sweaty in their hands. A sardonic smile crossed my lips. “Come, your baptism awaits,” I laughed deeply, my voice octaves below its usual tone.
The cultists screamed as they fled, the wide eyed victims cried through their bindings and tried to shuffle away, but were unable, but I paid no mind. I swirled and danced, bloodletting with glorious epiphany whilst dodging their attacks. It felt horrible. It felt...good.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“Annabelle,” Isaac yelled, landing on the floor in his wolf form, and swiping aside a cultist who tried to come upon me from the back. “Stop this at once!”
I laughed at him as I continued my war. The canvas outside of the circle filled with new blood as I swayed gleefully in the wrath that I sowed. It felt as if my body was moving on its own, while I watched on from a darkened tunnel, seeing the action in some sort of detachment, but enveloped in the thrill that coursed through my blood.
As I closed in on one of the final two victims, I toppled over him, on the ground, his hood falling back to reveal his face. A familiar face. I reeled back, pausing, my thoughts racing in my head, unable to keep up with the violent inclinations that held a stranglehold on my darkened mind. A word kept bracing throughout the storm of malice. No...a name. “You...” I uttered, my voice lessening with tension for a moment of thoughtful reprieve. The man from the visions, from the past. The man that brought me to an after life. At least I thought. No, it must be true, here he lay before me. Now the lamb, brought to my slaughter. “Tyler.”
“You’re...” his throat locked up as he tried to talk through brimming tears. “You’re alive...but how?” He sniffled as my hand slowly gripped around his throat, each finger tensing and feeling the warmth beneath his skin as it clenched snakelike with jubilee, attempting to squeeze the life from his brittle body.
“Relent!” Isaac bellowed, barreling into me and rolling us over to the side. He sat atop me, his fangs gnarling. “You’re losing control! Don’t let the beast inside consume you!”
I snarled and hissed back at him.
Suddenly, a dagger hovered above Isaac and sunk into his shoulder.
“Argh!” Isaac growled and twirled, kicking the cultist back, sending him flying across the room.
It gave me just enough time to slip away from Isaac and follow the door that had just slammed shut behind the fleeing Tyler.
“I want answers...” I howled, bursting through the door and into the misty night time air, leaping to the rooftops in pursuit. “I WANT BLOOD!”
