CH 1-10

Summary

Darc is hellbent on seducing and twisting Wynter to his will. Wynter is an angel who’s fallen into the Under realm with no memory of her past life, completely at the mercy of demonic and thirsty demons. Meet the brotherhood of vampires in Dark Academy. Darc, Vampire of Dreams. Ash, Vampire of Dishonor. Fane, Vampire of Destiny. Solomon, Vampire of Distortion. Horace, Vampire of Death. Dark Academy’s aim is world domination and to enslave all humans when they rise to Earth. Wynter has one year to convince Darc otherwise – all while trying to remember her past, which she has been cursed to forget. While befriending her new vampire friends, Wynter soon finds out their pasts may have already crossed – and if she falls for their charm, her soul will pay the ultimate price. Vampires / Horror Romance / Reverse Harem / Erotica / Academy Romance / 18+

Chapter 1

I’ve arrived at Dark Academy. Coveted with secrets and prestige – it was known for one thing.

There was no other Academy you’d rather be sent to join!

A strange condition upon entry is that you must forget everything you know on the outside.

So the prestige part? Well – I was told that in the last few minutes by the guide.

Now all I know is the grand multileveled Academy, set in dense fog between mountains, is a palace of bright colours on the inside. It’s lit every foot by a separate candle or lantern. It is so beautiful.

In fact, it is so entrancing, that I’ve lost my way from the main introductory tour in the lobby.

The gate. The bridge. The garden. Then, the moment we all entered the palace-like Academy – I immediately strayed through the enormous lobby.

I’m not sure I could help myself.

I was disorientated almost.

The scent of this higher-education Academy is liquorice, turning to melting iron – and changing to amber… ethereal and magical.

I glance around one tall pulsing pillar filled with veins of white, and I notice the tour is gone.

To my relief there is a man now aware of me, after exiting a heavy wooden door close behind my spot.

I stare at him. The well dressed man with black hair and dark red eyes is in a clean black suit. He spots me immediately, looking very awkward and in awe of this place, all on my own.

“Are you lost?” the handsome fellow walks right up to me and puts a hand on my back, making me blush as he turns me back the way I had come, “We pick the cherries this way.”

I’m trying to speak up but I can’t.

I’m smiling like an idiot though, and staring up at him, at the sharp silver I see at his lip.

Is that a fang?

He glances down at me, while I’m still staring up, a little too hard, “Do you speak – how old are you?”

“21,” I whisper.

“You seem unsure about that,” and he’s sure of that.

I’m still staring at his fang like an idiot.

“Are you a vampire?” I ask, stupidly, “Vampires aren’t… real.”

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” he seems to self-correct himself, as if he would have preferred to ask me that sooner.

“Wynter,” I admit, shyly.

“Wynter – do you remember crossing the bridge?” he stops our slow walk to stare into my face.

I happily stare back.

“Yes,” this was an easy question.

“Okay. Well. You died to get here,” he advises me, “…yes, I know, it’s hard to imagine…”

“I –” I want to deny it but I can’t remember so… I stare blankly.

M-maybe I was staring so much because I knew so little. Almost like a dream that you see and recognise but don’t understand. But I wasn’t confused. I was just – in awe. Still.

And he was so startlingly handsome – and real – in front of me. Like some prince straight out of a fairy tale.

“My name is Darc,” he tells me.

“Dark?”

“With a c,” Darc inhales slowly, as he explains, “I’m two thousand years old, Wynter. Can you comprehend that?”

We start walking again slowly, his hand still guiding me thoughtfully.

No…

I’m not really sure what he’s trying to tell me.

So I say nothing.

Darc asks me, “…are you shy or something…?”

No…

I wasn’t.

I was just… unsure.

So, I remain silent.

I continue to walk with him, his hand always on my back, guiding me back to the tour that I’ve wandered from.

I ask, as I gain confidence with our slow walk in the Academy, “What do you mean, pick cherries – what you said before, like fruit picking?”

“The new girls,” Darc’s tone tapers off, as if he doesn’t need to say it, and he seems bored, “They meet their Revivers – you’ll serve whoever took your soul. You’ll have some freedoms to learn, but it really depends who chose you…” he lets that sink in, “…do you not believe me when I say this, Wynter?” he asks so many questions and I don’t have any of the answers.

But I am sure of one thing.

He’s playing a prank or setting up a joke. I never died. I was breathing!

“…I’m alive…” I contradict him, as I answer carefully, “And you’re not two thousand years old.”

“Let me explain. The Academy is to practice for a war, and you’re not here to learn the magic of Under, but to serve us who are practicing our demon craft,” Darc is amused but not threatened, “You’ll learn as you go… it takes some time. Do you know what your ability is? We only choose companions, worthy of our time.”

“No,” this answer is easy.

He said ability. Like I had a super power or something. Ha. He really liked to weave complicated stories. I was waiting for the punch line. It was taking a long while, however.

“Right,” Darc pats my back, reassuring me, “You’ll be okay.”

“I’m fine,” I answer him.

Darc stops walking, however, suddenly tensing by my side.

I stop with him – I follow his stern gaze.

What I know of reality shatters.

Forget a fang!

I gape as I see a green hulking giant walking straight towards us.

This demon has got razor sharp teeth and yellow eyes.

He’s the most terrifying monster I’ve ever seen.

He’s triple Darc’s height.

A freaking orc.

“You found my cherry,” the monster talks to Darc, “The stupid human ran away from the other witches.”

I’m frozen at Darc’s side.

I hadn’t run! But I was ready to now –

What the hell was this orc thing, this place, these people?

What bridge had I crossed, where I lost my senses – my basic memories?

This all felt like a dream – but I don’t have time to muse.

“Why’d you choose a mortal, Gorg?” Darc asks, breaking my panic, his tone is neutral.

“I wanted her flesh, I’m done with witches,” Gorg doesn’t slow his approach – walking right up to me and grabbing my arm, pulling me over to his side, “Have a shit day, Darc, she’s my cherry, not yours.”

Darc has a hand by his nose, as if to ward off a smell I can’t personally detect. His thumb brushes his pink lips, and he eyes me closely as Gorg pulls me away with him abruptly.

I follow, completely bereft with what else to do – his green hand was covering almost all my arm, he was so huge.

“This way,” Gorg’s voice rumbles through his arm into my bones – shaking me with it’s force.

I’m living a nightmare.

He takes me down a large hall and opens a side door.

Geez.

We enter a room full of naked girls bathing!

I’m gasping and looking away in embarrassment, while Gorg is chuckling and taking me off the side toward a huge mirror – rusting in all corners.

He shows me my reflection in the corner of this washroom.

I try not to look at the green monster. Instead I stare at my face – and I’m shocked. My brown hair is matted, I’m so pale, my neck is bruised – my eyes are black – my lips are dry and cracked. I was covered in injuries that I couldn’t feel. I was wearing a tattered formal silver dress and I hadn’t even realised.

“Wynter. My slave. Welcome to Dark Academy,” Gorg leans down to my ear, “I wrung your neck and breathed life back into you to be my whore for the day in the Under if you can last that long before I eat you – clean yourself up,” he growls as he turns to thump away, speaking to himself, “I hate my flesh covered in grime.”

As the demon walks away, his large feet shake the pebbles littered along the bath tiles.

All the girls thrown in here to bathe in the pool are watching the orc leave in complete shock.

I glance at them in confusion, then realise they’re looking past me.

Darc has come in right after Gorg left.

Darc has entered right away and every single gaze has averted away from him as he observes all the girls – but abruptly focuses on me.

As he approaches me again, I face him, shell-shocked.

“What’s happening?” I whisper tightly to Darc. I am confused, but that is an understatement.

Darc stands before me to explain, “Mortals aren’t allowed in this Academy – it’s breaking a clause, you’ll have to face the council.”

“I didn’t choose this,” my hands tremble, as I place them on my stomach.

“I know, but Gorg can’t be sentenced – only mortals,” Darc shrugs.

“I’m – I – but I didn’t do anything. I can’t be charged for anything,” I don’t know why I’m complaining, it’s not like I knew the rules of this very real nightmare.

Darc’s reply shocks me, “You’re mortal, that’s enough to charge you.”

“I’m innocent,” I’m still defending myself. I wish I knew why, but I simply can’t help myself.

Darc pauses, as if this is something to smile at, but he remains serious enough, “I know,” he tugs me with him, and I hear more gasps from the water.

I follow him. He might be a demon too but at least he wasn’t triple the normal height and green with rows of sharp teeth. The fangs on Darc I had seen were less intimidating.

We thankfully leave the bathing area, and he takes me to a private garden in the Academy. Darc stands under light mist from the dense fog, while he stares into the nothing sky and I stand by his side, while he thinks to himself.

“What is this place – Dark Academy – what is it for?” I ask him.

“Oh, we’re just preparing for world domination – to rule the mortal realm, it takes many millennia to prepare for such an event, while we reside at peace in the Under,” Darc turns his head and tilts it down at me, “Mortals aren’t allowed here because you’re too desired and will distract from the vital education we teach. Any mortals who have come here have been sentenced to immediate beheading. You’re probably going to die again.”

“No, no,” I find my voice, begging, “Please –”

“Why should you live?” Darc asks, “You’ll die again eventually. Ah, I guess that’s a good reason,” Darc now speaks to himself, answering his own question, “We rise this year to bring hell to earth, so you may as well live until then…”

“I don’t even remember ‘Earth’ – or anything before this.”

“Are you a virgin too, by any chance?” Darc asks, raising a brow, inquisitive.

“Yes,” I know this.

“Done. Perfect, we’ll use you for the Sacrifice for Passage, now you have a good reason to stay and a reason to be unharmed while you remain with us,” Darc is too calm as tells me this dark fate, unfolding before me.

And I’m too scared to ask – but I should ask – “Sacrifice for Passage?” I whisper, blood draining from my already pale cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it,” Darc smirks just a little, a handsome little smirk – with cool cool red eyes.

He’s so – so calm.

He makes me feel calm.

“What about Gorg?” I ask.

“Don’t worry about him either,” Darc shakes his head, his nostrils flaring, “You’re mine now.”

“W-wha –?”

“Shh, don’t think,” Darc turns to face me fully, swipes my chin with his finger, pinching my flesh for a second before letting go. A cute pinch.

I could swear he shivers with it though, but he shakes it off.

“Mmm,” Darc looks me over again, while I still stand there, confused and apparently revived or whatever that meant, “I should introduce you to the others – my friends.”

“…your friends…?” I pale even more.

“They’re not orcs,” Darc tries not to purse his lips, “They’re vampires. Like me.”

“Oh.”

“They’ll love to tou – to see you, don’t worry – they haven’t met a mortal in at least a hundred years since the last one came through before she was slaughtered. Pardon me,” Darc regrets his language, but quickly changes the subject, “Follow,” he grabs my elbow.

“…what if I… what if I don’t want to follow you…?” I ask it, a dead-end question.

Darc freezes.

His eyes dilate as we stare at one another.

“…ah, mortals,” Darc closes his eyes, his brows twitching, “The passion – the rage,” he catches my eye again, “Futile emotions. Completely pointless here. Come with me.”

He’s still so calm.

Fine.

I follow him.

“Do you feel passion?” I ask strangely, while walking behind, but what I really mean to ask is do you feel anything?

Darc almost answers me – but then he holds his silence.

…who was this vampire?

And why did he look… kind of… a little bit… familiar?

Chapter 2

Darc takes me to the north wing of Dark Academy – where polished amber stone becomes grey and dull; pretty lifeless. All colours are washed away from the rainbow. It’s almost like the world is in black and white, but the furniture and decoration is quite pretty for a demon’s haven.

Darc and I walk up three flights of steps, down a wide red carpeted hall, which turns through an arc into an open circular game room – at least, that’s what I could make of it.

It’s empty – but I hear voices through other doors connected to this lounge.

All around me, is a play room. Chess boards. Huge bean bags you could drown in. Carpet you could swim in. A fireplace you could fall in. Windows you could jump from –

Why… why was my brain focused on death so much?

Because, well, I died.

And I was only now starting to realise – my own calm? Was just shock.

And the shock was now fading, and a tremble in my hands was coming back.

Darc stands me precisely in the very centre of the room, his hands place me there, while he walks off to a small single recliner covered in savage wolf furs – and he sinks into the chair. He picks up a tea pot and pours a steaming beverage, talking – but his words are mumbles. I can’t understand him, as my mind retreats inward like I’ve been drowning in water. I almost feel wetness leaking from my ears.

That would explain why there is green grime stuck to my skin.

I’m staring at my hands, and the pale colour is warming slowly – but my veins look still. As if my pulse is still so weak, my body is also starved of any nutrition – or care. I look horrid. I –

“Yoohoo,” Darc is waving at me, trying to get my attention, “Hello, Wynter?”

“Huh?” I glance down at him, “Dead. I’m dead.”

“Revived back,” Darc corrects me, very patiently, “And technically you’re in debt – because I’m going to stop the council from sentencing you. Because I am the council, ha…ha, I’m quite funny, aren’t I?” Darc trails off, loving the sound of his own voice, “Do you feel sore at all? Your eyes wander away a lot,” Vampire. Darc was a vampire, “…and you zone out too… try to stay present for me,” he makes it sound easy, “…Wynter… hello…?”

I wish he’d stop with that condescending tone – I was just getting my bearings.

“Where are we? Where are your friends?” the voices I heard coming up here have all stopped.

“Ah, so you are aware of what’s happening… my friends… come on out, and don’t startle the poor thing,” Darc leans back in his rocking chair, sipping his tea like an old man – who looks twenty-one like me, “Stay where you are, and don’t move,” my eyes have been wandering again around the cozy room, but I glance at the almost-impatient and extremely mean sound that just rumbled from Darc’s barely moving lips. Like the kind of demon you don’t want to be friends with.

Ha… but, I’m imagining things, because now he’s smiling at me over his tea cup. Taking another sip.

Strange…

I look up and around the room again.

The friends.

They do exactly what Darc told them not to. I’m immediately startled by their silent entry.

I forget to inhale.

There’s four gentlemen – ahem – and they are well dressed preppy vampires, standing together.

Staring at me.

Staring at Darc.

Then staring back at me.

“Breathe,” Darc warns me – and I remember to inhale before I get dizzy.

I clasp my hands behind my back, running my fingers together while I watch the new company.

“Introduce yourselves to this… cherry,” Darc is speaking as if restrained, “Her name is Wynter.”

I wonder how I must look, when they all wear handkerchiefs in their pockets and green and red chequered socks.

I look like I crawled my way out of a swamp.

I wait for them to speak but they’re silent – still just taking us both in.

The four friends look smug – and they don’t want to speak.

“Yes, we all look similar,” Darc growls over his tea, “Black hair, pale skin. Horace has no colour to his lips, none, ever. Solomon is next to him, you see his distinct purple eyes? Fane – his ears spike, and Ash, he’s…” Darc sighs, “He’s my brother, he’s a ‘ladies’ man,” Darc’s voice gets more and more restricted.

“Is she mortal, Darc?” Ash speaks like it’s the first time – baby soft. I hate it. It’s weird and unnatural how melodic his voice is.

Darc shrugs.

“Should we dismember her,” Horace whispers, his eyes asking Darc with a brilliant red sheen that glows brighter as he thinks of – of – dismemberment, “…and strip the skin –?”

“No, look at her,” Solomon, with the dark purple eyes, near black, snaps at Horace, but then exhales slowly, “Let Fane touch her and let’s see how she reacts.”

Fane – with the pointed ears, like a vampire elf – steps forward silently, not making a noise.

“May I?” Fane asks without really asking – as he comes up to me and outstretches a hand.

I turn and back up – fast.

My mind was still on Horace’s clear and distinct interest in dismembering me.

“Woah – !” Darc warns me of my mishap, but it’s too late.

I’ve lunged back too far.

My ankle hits his polished boots, and I fall backwards straight into his lap – while Darc just manages to place the tea aside, just in time. So there is no spillage.

But now, I’m on him, and two things are very wrong.

His dick is hard as hell under my ass. And it’s very obviously lengthy as it heats between my butt.

The more scary thing, is his mouth is too close to my neck now – and I feel him freeze again.

Darc clears his throat and grabs my waist, pushing me off a little rough.

I try to balance, but my tattered dress gets caught along my feet and I fall to my hands and knees.

Huffing, I try to ignore the chuckles. While down, I find another mirror – opposite me, on the ground, a small hand mirror.

I tilt my head, staring at me – and the more I stare at me the more I remember.

Not things, just feelings. In my gut.

Dread. Finality. Ending. Loss. Succumbing. Then dying.

I turn around and I glance up at Darc, who’s glaring at his friends and then trying to feign a smile for me.

Once I stand again, I back up a few steps to put distance between me and the vampires.

With my back against the wall, I pick up my tattered dress in my fingers.

“My clothes are ruined, I can’t wear this,” I speak to the fabric, without looking at Darc.

“…take it off…” Darc suggests.

Now, his true nature shines through.

As I blink and look up – I see the predator in him turned right on.

The red in his eyes shines with more luminescence, like a candle flame fuelled brighter, and his mouth curls in the corner.

My lip wobbles, I start to cry a little from surging panic.

“I-I’m dead? Why am I dead?” I whisper, “Am I in hell or something?”

“No,” Darc ignores my hysterical whimpering, answering calmly, hoping it rubs off on me again, “You’re in Dark Academy. And you can’t leave. So… you’ll have to stay,” Darc picks up his tea again, smirking over at his friends.

“…and Gorg…” I whisper.

“I told you not to worry,” Darc starts to sound annoyed.

“I knew Gorg did it,” Solomon speaks to Ash, “I told you he did it. Fucking dumb orc.”

“Fuck. Well… okay,” Ash keeps glancing between Darc and me, “Darc – you can’t stop that. Gorg took her Under.”

“…and Gorg also Revived her,” Horace adds, “Fane – go, touch her,” Horace is so mean and selfish.

“Don’t touch me,” I hold out my palm to Fane and he cringes back a bit – almost as if he’s scared, then remembers to straighten up.

What was happening?

“Listen, I can make you sleep and heal, if you let me,” Fane tries to look convincing.

“But why don’t I remember anything?” I ask all of them, “…why do you all know more than me… about me…?”

“Okay,” Darc licks his lips and stands up, seemingly done with patience, “You’re going to sleep,” he turns to me – now sinister, “You’ll need it.”

“I – don’t, no, no, I don’t,” I deny and try to argue with no facts and no memories, as Darc just approaches, snatches both my elbows and jerks me into his chest, as he leans down and tilts his mouth over mine, whispering, “Sleeeep.”

I try to deny that too.

I start to get dizzy.

I’m falling into his torso but also pushing off.

“I don’t – I don’t want to –”

“You will need it,” Darc repeats as he holds me before I collapse, smiling, handsome and perfect as he adds unnecessarily, “…we bite far too hard for you.”

I’ve already fallen off the edge of consciousness, falling deep into sleep, in Darc’s arms, within Dark Academy, with no sense and no knowledge – trapped, dead and revived in the Under?

A place demons lived.

But there was a huge chunk that still didn’t make sense.

This huge piece of me. Still gone.

What the hell was I missing?

Would I ever know who I was before I crossed that bridge? And entered the gate? And then the Academy.

I wanted to remember me. But how?

Chapter 3

A sinister bell chime wakes me up violently. It’s so loud, as if the bell is above me, or over my head.

As I lie with eyes now wide open, the chime of the bell vibrates through my skin as it rings again – I think it is in a tower above this dorm, the north wing of Dark Academy. I wait for the horrible and deep vibrations to fade, and then I breathe a bit easier. It chimed like it was signalling the release of a ghost.

I’m under a webbed veil around a grey sheet bed I had been laid upon.

I’m still dressed in the formal tattered silver dress, and I’ve been placed in someone’s empty dorm. The place smells of stale air, and feels cold. There is not a hint of warmth in here.

The walls are stone grey. The dresser is grey wood. The double bed is black iron. The sheets are dusty as if they’ve never been used. The net around me, to ward off mosquitos, seems to be more a fancy feature. To my right, probably the nicest thing I see, is an arc shaped window. However, it’s edged open a few inches, and a breeze of menacing fog floats in and out, as if the air itself has lungs and breathes.

I sit up, and I might be in complete silence aside from the forest of the mountain outside my window, but I am not alone entirely. A note has been left for me, at the end of the bed near my grey and weary feet. I pick it up, noticing a slight blush in my hands slowly coming back – but it’s very slow indeed.

Wynter, as your body heals from death, you will need to rest. Stay down until I return from my classes. In the meantime, think of a talent or interest you had from your previous life. I want to know if you remember anything about that. – Darc.

Hmm – I slowly lie myself back down, and strangely I don’t mind the chill so much as I thought I might.

Simply because he’s made me curious, I try to remember – anything.

It should be easy, with no noise, no threat and only my mind.

But even as the hour passes? I can’t remember a single detail about my previous life.

I think I’ll have much longer to ponder this – but with very dramatic energy, and no echo of approaching footsteps, the door suddenly slams right open!

BANG!

I launch up again, sitting, gasping – prepared to fight off Gorg if it’s that green ugly orc!

But no, oh thank goodness – it’s just the vampire. My ‘saviour’ Darc. He’s finished classes already – I must have slept most of the day away.

I timidly fold my hands in my lap, while Darc walks over to grab the veil and pull it aside, to take a better look at me. He doesn’t smile or frown, but he does seem… intensely curious.

“So?” Darc drawls, it’s strangely sexy for a single word. I let out a shaky large exhale and then lie back on the pillow once more, exhausted by my fading rush of adrenaline. My hands are now curled together on my stomach as I stare up at the ceiling, instead of him. I wished this fog in my brain would lift – “…Wynter, tell me what do you know… if anything… what do you remember?”

Without looking at him, his voice feels distant… but also so close. I feel a cheeky tickle along my sensitive toe and I jerk my leg away from Darc’s sleight fingers – he tickled my right big toe to get my attention back on his midnight red evil eyes.

I stare at him and he confuses me, but I ignore his touch and I answer him instead.

I whisper as I feel the sorrow for memories I can’t draw on, “Only that you look familiar. But nothing about me.”

“Familiar,” Darc chooses to focus on that word, something in him stills, “I certainly don’t remember you. I don’t traverse the Upper realm often,” he smiles because it is a bold lie I cannot challenge, even though Darc doesn’t even bother to hide his mysterious cheek in showing me his easy tendency to manipulate. Rather, he wants me to be distressed by his lazy answer, something I can’t fight. Because I know nothing, and he knows that all too well.

Sucking in a frustrated breath, I ask instead, “Why can’t you go into the ‘Upper’?”

Darc is surprised by my choice in question, but he replies anyway, “It’s expensive to cross and the sun is deadly – only the moon accepts our kind. Do you really not remember anything, Wynter?” here we go again.

He seems to taunt me with it.

“I don’t even remember what it means to be human, exactly,” I answer dryly, without much emotion myself.

“Humans are like… cows, to us demons,” Darc shrugs, “We drain them… we sometimes possess them.”

Okay, interesting…?

“Is Gorg looking for me?” I ask, sensitively.

He told me not to worry twice, but I do worry that I am meant to serve that green giant who wants to eat me after the day’s up.

I witness my saviour’s rising brow, a perfect arc – too perfectly graceful. No accidental twitch, no lines on his skin. Darc is unreal. He is also hell bent on not telling me a third time.

So Darc tells me instead, in that secret horrible snarl he can do, sounding akin to a straight up monster with no sense of patience when said patience is tested, “I. Am looking at you,” I stay silent at that, then he seems to swiftly shake off his arrogance and attempts to hide his small slip of kind ‘friend’.

“So… Darc, what do you do then… besides practice demonic magic here, I assume?” I ask, carefully.

“Oh,” Darc is happy to answer his, “I dream, demons love to dream, but we don’t sleep necessarily,” Darc quickly corrects himself, while deciding to suddenly sit on the edge of the bed, rather than just hanging under the veil. He gets comfortable closing the distance, soon leaning boldly over the covers into my space, then turning and lying right next to me, fluffing a spare pillow, punching it back and then twisting to recline… up a bit high, but slipping low… and lower… until his shoulder meets my cheek – and I have to shuffle over myself to give him some extra space – even though he purposefully chose to approach like so.

“Oh, so you daydream?” I ask, trying not to show him I’m flustered by his… well… the fact he’s quite handsome and up this close he drips a smell I quite… enjoy. It’s distracting. A cologne of sexy demon? What else to call it? Oh, that was such a dumb, silly thought. But I couldn’t help it, he was alluring.

Darc answers me, while looking down his nose at me, “Demons… know their purpose – which is to drain, and conquer Earth,” he reaches an arm over to me, making me freeze in fright, but he only pinches my chin again, between his thumb and finger, as if liking the dimple there. As the touch only lasts a second, I try to ignore that pinch of my skin, as he adds, “We’ll make all the humans our slaves and put them into farms… when we rule.”

Urgh.

It’s hard to look at him when he says that. I stare up at the ceiling and the veil instead.

“…you’re… that’s evil…” I state, monotone, “I wonder what chance humans stand when you decide to rise?”

“Glad you’ve been paying attention,” Darc goes off topic to compliment me, his red night eyes, glowing with cheeky energy as I can’t help but look up at him – and he’s pleased I fall for the sweet moment, “They don’t stand a chance,” he’s so sinister then, but naturally.

“So why do you train for thousands of years… if it’s so easy to conquer…” I have an extremely inquisitive mind, I want to unravel the answers, I guess I remember that – because it’s me. I like to learn. Perhaps I was a student before I came into this Academy. I was 21, young enough to be in college, so that made sense logically speaking.

“Well, with crossing realms there’s always a catch…” but Darc clearly doesn’t want to elaborate, as he seems to glare out the window, and at the fog briefly.

“Okay. Anyway then. What am I meant to do now?” I ask him, “As a human stuck in Dark Academy?”

Darc slowly looks back to me, poor ole me, still looking and sounding so confused. He slyly snakes out his hand to pick up my arm by the elbow, checking out the remaining swamp grime, as he casually drawls, “You, Wynter…you don’t really have to do anything… except one thing…”

“What’s that?” I whisper, truly intrigued, while I also simultaneously pull my elbow out of his cool hand, where his fingers had started to trace some of my blue visible veins intimately.

I didn’t like it. But Darc also doesn’t seem to like that I don’t accept his way.

He observes me with a challenge in his red dark eyes, he’s clearly annoyed I’m being defiant, “No matter what you choose here, Wynter – you can’t choose otherwise… with me.”

No. I bite back as I sit up, “That’s just a fancy way of saying you want total obedience –”

Darc almost smiles, delighted by my sudden fury. He does all he can to keep fuelling it now, “Oh no, I just want you to struggle and then submit to my awesome power,” he bites it off so quick, wanting more of my fiery reaction with his stupid words.

“More like awesome age gap,” I snap, leaning up on my elbows, “You’re ancient. Although you look like a baby.”

“Blood of dead virgins will do that to you,” Darc licks his upper lip, after swirling it around his sharp as hell fang.

“I don’t like that,” I whisper in fright, referring to the dead virgins and his razor tipped fang, made for slicing necks and piercing human flesh. Painfully. To kill.

“The dead always taste better,” Darc drawls, while purposefully glancing to my neck, trying to scare me.

“I’m not dead.”

“You’re more dead than alive.”

“I’m Revived,” I retort, knowing this now.

“You cute human,” Darc still speaks without emotion, “The Revived are always stuck in the state they died in – virgins are the usual choice – for taste. But we never usually pick humans, as I told you before,” Darc’s eyes dart to the blue veins in my elbow, “Because humans taste… euphoric almost…. we frenzy to it,” I gulp. I don’t want to know what that means. Frenzy. Noting my silence, Darc adds, fake-friendly, “I won’t abuse you for being weaker than me, Wynter… I just want your company, up until we sacrifice you to go to war. Sound okay?” he watches me as I roll off my side of the bed to stand away from him. I clench both my fists in denial.

“What if you end up liking me too much?” I challenge him.

“Oh, no, that won’t happen,” Darc chuckles, truly amused, “The only thing I feel is sin. All the darkness. Nothing light.”

…light.

I blink – that word is also familiar.

I try to hide my own feeling of shock, as I ask, while swatting aside the webbed veil and holding my hand to the sparse room, “Is this your bedroom?”

“No,” Darc is disgusted, shaking his head as he also stands off the bed, “My bedroom is far finer than your hovel,” ha, hovel… such an ancient tongue he had.

“Well prove to me it’s so bloody fine then,” I challenge him with an accidental vampire pun, finding a cheeky side within me, as I smirk… just a little.

“No,” Darc looks at me, as if I’m insane, “Vampire bedrooms are totally off limits – you must be invited,” I shrug a shoulder, not caring for that, “…are you hungry, maybe…?” Darc couldn’t sound anymore untrustworthy, as he soundlessly rounds the iron bed, to look at me from the end of it, as I stand by the side of it, away from him.

I nod, slightly, “Maybe a little bit.”

“Then come with us and we’ll pick you some berries in the forest,” Darc gives away his friends are close by, while also barely hiding his smirk, which just tugs up one tiny corner of his lush mouth.

“I like berries,” I try to answer, neutrally.

“Good, follow me.”

Chapter 4

Picking berries, it sounded nice, what could go wrong? It was a forest walk and I had five escorts. That hopefully, you know, wouldn’t hurt me. Since they were freaking vampires.

Darc, his brother Ash and their friends Horace, Solomon and Fane.

They really do look like a brooding brotherhood – an alliance of some kind.

They’ve wrapped themselves in black winter robes for the cold, I guess.

I was offered all these sinful dresses to wear but none suited my taste. I did my best to clean the tattered silver formal dress I died in – a thing from where I came from. Earth. I didn’t want to lose it.

I combed my hair through and washed my face and limbs down. I noticed in the small guest bathroom mirror, that most of my pale skin was now warm all over. My veins were too wide and too blue, however, as if underneath I was damaged, even though on the surface I was starting to look ‘normal’ again.

Now I’m treading softly just behind the five ancient vampires and they don’t seem too worried about me being isolated in my walk behind them, while they’re all shoulder to shoulder.

They talk to each other while I follow like a dog.

They don’t acknowledge me back here.

I take the opportunity to listen into their dialogue as it travels easy with the open air along this mountain path.

“The fountain of youth is lacking blood, it’s been draining out since the executions stopped as planned and the basin is now visible,” Solomon, the one with purple eyes also wears silver jewellery. In his ears, over his neck, in his nose. It looked tribal and ancient, odd, “I worry it’s all too soon, Darc.”

“I dreamed it isn’t so,” Darc always sounds slightly euphoric when he mentions dreaming.

“And I know it isn’t,” Ash adds onto the end of Darc’s sentence, and I wonder if they’re twins with the way they share a perfectly timed knowing look afterward. Not identical though; perhaps fraternal twins. Darc’s eyes were red, Ash’s a light brown – more normal.

“Fane?” Solomon asks the pointy eared vampire, who looks over his shoulder at that moment – right at me.

It’s disconcerting and catches me off guard.

Fane’s eyes are black – no distinction where the pupil starts and ends.

“She can always donate if we need a little extra time,” Fane suggests, seeing me pale, “It’s not what you think.”

I feel Horace on the edge, feel his need to look back at me next and I am immediately intimidated by his eyes roaming over me.

On second thoughts – donating blood wouldn’t be as bad as being dismembered.

“Okay, I don’t see why not,” I agree with Fane, shrugging. If I helped them, maybe I could find an ally in all of them –

Except now, with my agreeable response, they all stop walking along the garden path, turning to face me.

All are mostly impressed and maybe shocked.

Darc is the one most disturbed by my admission.

Their gazes are heavy. Unless – they thought I meant donate now.

I nervously grab my other elbow and I suck in a deep breath.

“How did you die again?” Darc asks me, suspiciously.

“I think I drowned… and was probably beaten… and…” my eyes wander – but what else happened to me? I didn’t even think –

I’m suddenly nauseous at the thought.

“I saw it happen, Wynter, you were in battle –” Solomon blinks slowly at me, and Darc hisses at him.

“Shut up, Solomon,” Darc snarls, letting that monster out for a moment, “…don’t tell her anything.”

Why?

I feel betrayed and angry at this turn in conversation.

“It was my life,” I let out my own growl, not near as intimidating as his snarl, although I do manage to sound downright bitchy, “What right do you have to hide anything from me –”

“…you have no idea what you’re talking about… Wynter,” Darc immediately reels in the monster inside and talks like a well-to-do gentlemen, with an edge. There he goes again, taunting me with my name, with that sarcasm – mostly his loose attitude, letting me know we have a past.

But he won’t tell me what it is or what it all means.

“Are you sure you want berries,” Ash asks me – and I feel it’s a strange defence of his brother.

Defence?

Why did I think that…

I just nod.

I’m not sure what else to say.

Darc lunges out toward me, and I’m impressed by my ability not to flinch as he snatches my elbow and he looks at me as if trying to find any fear. He is disappointed he doesn’t find such a reaction this time. Darc tells me, “The berries grow by your sacrificial alter,” my eyes question why, and he answers me, “I thought it would be in your interest to know where you’ll eventually die for us.”

“I’m already dead,” I state, as if I know what I’m talking about, “…undead perhaps?”

“You’re alive,” Fane tells me.

“About G –” Gorg.

“Don’t start,” Darc’s hand tightens and he silences me with his red glare.

In that moment of his anger I finally get a second feeling.

To add onto the familiarity I feel for him.

I’m humoured by his rage.

“Okay,” I answer again, simply.

He probably expected a protest.

Darc turns abruptly and pulls me in front, then awkwardly unhands my arm and presses a gentle hand to the small of my back, ushering me forward, rather gently.

What the – the hell?

I walk forward, taking the lead.

Talk about a sudden change in demeanour.

“I don’t know where to go,” I accuse all of them, now that I’m in front.

“How about you use your eyes and look around you,” Darc wraps his black robe around him, shoving his hands into his pockets within as if he’s still pissed off.

Horace’s gaze to the left gives it away.

I turn and I finally see it.

In the bush, large and plentiful cherry bushes surround a huge rising temple between the trees, moss covered bronze ruins with steps leading up to a circle, a sacrificial alter at the centre.

“Go. Take a look at where you’ll die,” Darc is very insistent on this.

The others don’t refute his suggestion.

I take Darc in with his skittish, smug eyes and I wait for him to hold my stare before I answer him, “Okay. I’d love to,” I answer as if I know how to in that moment.

There is a very distinct knowing in his eyes, recognition at my tone.

But I still don’t know how I knew what to say.

I turn away, to take a look.

“What do you call this place?” I ask, as I make my way toward the first steps.

“We call it… hmm –” Darc hesitates – and that sly and smug attitude comes back in his demonic trigger happy snarl, “Distortion. Wynter. We call it distortion.”

Soo funny.

Distortion?

Lies.

Twisted Truth.

False Reality.

It’s what he was doing to me.

Chapter 5

Distortion. The word sticks as I walk through the temple in the Dark woods. The fog was creeping in as a bright moon was flickering behind black clouds.

That’s where I look as I humour Darc and his friends.

Even as they trail me, I boldly jump up and lie down upon the alter in the bronze ruins.

I wanted answers to my lost memory and perhaps shocking them would gain me some points.

Each vampire approaches with excitement to stand around me lying down, while I look up at the silver moon that isn’t a moon.

It’s something else.

I squint at it, as it flickers and seems to disappear then reappear.

Their five heads appear around me, and I can’t ignore them any longer.

“What is that thing in the sky?” I ask in a curious whisper, glancing to Darc, who’s red dim eyes hold onto mine like he’s tethering me to him. Weird thought.

“Souls are beautiful innocent light so when they die here, they gather into what looks like a sun… or a moon… but it is a schism – a rupture if you like… a gate. Right above you,” Darc is passionate about this, they all are.

I feel the light of the Schism is holding me to this alter, like the ghosts of the dead before me.

I ask, with a dry throat, “What price do I have to pay to get my memories back?” I ask, my tone husky.

“Everything,” Darc raises his hand and shows two cherries connected by a stem, he rolls one off with his thumb and reaches over to press the berry to my lips. I take it with my tongue and chew it – it’s ripe and juicy. He watches my jaw move, suss as he pockets the second berry in his robe, “Your will, your real compliance,” Darc’s face remains pillar still, “Everything.”

“One free token – he’s had a crush on you for years,” Horace breaks the moment with a happy snarl by my feet, where his hands lie too close – but not touching.

Darc snarls but doesn’t deny it.

I look back at Darc and he’s red eyes remain neutral despite the provocation.

“You do know me, so we have a history,” I state.

“Listen,” Darc rushes me now, “I’ll tell you the truth and nothing but the truth. Just submit to me,” he lets out that demonic tone of voice and I immediately feel put off.

“What. Submit. Submit to be your girlfriend?” I’m joking – Darc is not.

“Exactly,” Darc whispers, and I look at his cohort around me.

They’re calm – not laughing.

So, he is serious.

“Why is it so important to you that you have me like that?” I ask.

“Sin is everything. What we desire is all we know,” Fane watches me with a look I feel is more comfortable with me, but it makes me more uncomfortable than ever.

Solomon along with Ash and Horace – watch me like a meal. An actual meal.

I shouldn’t have laid down on this damn alter for them to all stare at me.

But I had to find out who I was or there was no point in trying this to provoke them into telling me more details.

I look to Darc, “I submit,” I play along, “Now tell me who I am.”

I speak lightly – but in truth I am desperate to know.

They all hold their breath.

“It’s fitting you’re lying right here, as you say that,” Darc is practically drooling, “Take a pulse, brothers,” he looks right at me as he speaks to his cohort.

“Finally,” Horace sounds ravenous.

W-

Wait.

They all grab a limb.

Darc’s hand snakes around my neck and holds my head down.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.

Submitting wasn’t meant to do this.

“It’s a price to pay for friends,” Darc drawls over me, “If you prefer one – you’ll give your entire body to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t abuse me,” I start to panic.

“This is me being very, very kind to you, you little shit,” Darc lets the demon out, snarling deeper over my lips as he gets even closer, “Just for questioning me incessantly – this time I’ll not wait for another word.”

Oh no.

As if in slow motion, Darc’s lips move past mine, straight over my chin and down to my neck, pulsing through my skin as if his fangs grow with piercing my body. Fane and Ash pierce a wrist each – while Solomon and Horace both raise my legs, bend the knees and find a spot near my calf knee and upper thigh.

Sink.

Sinking into me.

The rest is history.

They all tear into my flesh to grab hold of a flow of my blood and the pain is so immense I thankfully feel nothing while the adrenaline takes hold first.

In that moment, I know they are true beasts of the night and not just a pretty picture in the woods.

---

Sunlight, an antiseptic hospital ward.

“Wynter? Guys she’s waking up – oh my god. Wynter!”

I’m shaken as a deep familiar voice yells over me, yet still no memories ignite.

My eyes flitter open as I whimper awake – is this, the other side?

The Upper.

Alive.

I’m numb and yet… I’m only dreaming. Right?

Around me familiar faces with no names crowd in. A girl. Three guys. A nurse. A doctor.

“I’m only asleep,” I cry out, “I’m in Dark Academy, with five vampires,” I feel panicked to say it, as if I know my time here is minimal.

“Wynter,” the man beside me holds my cheek – he’s yellow eyes and brown messy hair smells like a wolf, “You’re with Darc?”

“Yes.”

“They’re going to turn you against us, they’re evil Wynter,” he is urgent.

“I know,” I try to reassure him.

“You don’t get it – he’ll make you fall in love with him – that’s how they snare you, do you understand me?” this man cares for me deeply.

I hesitate as I stare at him, but I do nod as well, “ – I understand. What is your name?”

“You don’t remember me?” he looks at the others, who are shocked into silence, then he glares back at me, as if wishing to make me remember with his passionate snarl, “It’s me, Armando, your boyfriend?”

I nod.

“You do remember or –?”

That was the thing. No. I didn’t. I just… felt the familiar sense. Just no knowing of anything else.

“I don’t remember anything,” I state, final.

“Then listen. You’re an angel, baby, you don’t have wings down there?”

I shake my head, “No?” I cry out – feeling disturbed by such a fact as my physical body in the Upper starts to shudder uncontrollably with grief.

“Darc is an angel killer,” Armando grabs my shoulders, “Do not be complacent, you must run –”

But then I was paralysed – being brought back Under once again.

Chapter 6

I wake up from being drained of blood, to sitting untouched upon the alter – with the brothers still around me.

I sit up onto my elbows, gazing over my woundless skin.

I’m not bleeding.

The brotherhood of vampires are putting away handkerchiefs to hide the blood they’ve wiped from their chins.

But – that is not the concern.

I turn to Darc, who has a glowing strength about him now.

He looks a little bit more alive and more tan, rather than white like stone.

“Angel killer,” I hiss with fear.

Darc sees me looking for a way out. Somewhere to run too!

The forest was dense and I was their toy right now. I had no hope – but I had to listen to Armando.

Darc snatches my chin with lightning fast reflexes – I didn’t even see his arm move. He pulls my wondering face back to his and doesn’t let my chin go. Darc states like the monster he is, “If you want to leave… Wynter… you mustn’t panic.”

“You’re much stronger than before,” I whisper helplessly, feeling the strength in his hold of me, I can’t pull out of his grip even as I strain backwards.

“Your blood is a tool,” Darc restrains himself from saying much more.

“But I don’t feel weaker…” I murmur, glancing over all of them, “Why don’t I feel weaker? Where are my wounds?”

“Because you heal quickly,” Darc suggests, smirking to his friends.

“Why did you try to tell me I’m a mortal? Where are my wings? I’m an angel.”

“So, you remember much more while dying?” Darc chuckles.

“This was bound to happen eventually,” Fane smiles at me, standing next to Darc.

“We should kill her now,” Horace gazes at the alter and the surrounds, and back to Darc, who’s brow is raised inquisitively.

He waits a bit too long.

“…no,” Darc slips his other hand under my palm and raises it into the air, politely, like some gentlemen as he addresses me, “Sweetheart. Your death is futile already… so I wish to know you some more before that night,” that meant life was possible – for now. I slip from the stone and stand up, and Darc’s hand is holding mine tightly, as he hides me from Horace’s view while he spins to face his friends, “Save your ideas for a more appropriate time, Horace. Solomon – put the knife away.”

Knife?! I gaze past Darc’s left to see Solomon pocketing a freaking butchers knife into his black robe as his silver jewellery chimes along his ears with the wind, and I find my hand squeezing Darc’s so tight. Shit.

“I’m patient,” Solomon smiles charmingly at me.

Charming to a disturbing degree.

They all go silent as they watch me, but my main fearful eye is on Solomon’s violet gaze and Horace’s intense hunger.

“Don’t be complacent upon my brother Ash and Fane,” Darc notices my attention, warning me, “They’re quiet… but they’re viciously quiet.”

Ash and Fane ignore his statement.

“…and what are you?” I murmur to him, afraid.

“The death of you,” Darc turns as he says that, rolling a shoulder while tilting his head playfully to his close friends, “Shall we return to the Academy?”

Without a word, only nods or understanding eyes – they all turn and we begin to trek back.

I slip my hand from Darc’s and walk just beside him.

An angel killer?

Geez. Dramatic much.

What was I to do? What did that even mean for me – and what was my life above? Did I stand a chance getting back again?

All I knew now was I was stuck here.

I speak into their silence, the only noise is the creepy wind, as I question Darc, “If you study during the day… and rarely sleep at night… what do you do all night?” I ask, immediately gulping down that feeling of bile from the digested cherry making its way back up my oesophagus.

Regret has immediately surged through me, I didn’t want to know that answer but I had to ask what was in store upon our return.

Here was the answer.

“We save the night for murder and torture and sex, surprised?” Darc is so calm – all emotion gone again, “Angel,” he reaches out and snatches my hand back when I don’t expect it as he pulls me into his stride, turning me to make me walk backwards while he strides forward. I stumble but try to keep up as Darc drawls down at me, “For your blood you receive our friendship… for your body you’ll receive your memories… my version which I tell you.”

My eyes widen.

Oh.

He has no idea how much I actually felt when I went to the Upper when they all drained me.

I must have died for a few seconds as they took my pulse away.

Did I have a heart attack?

And then I came back again. Healing myself. How powerful was I? Probably powerful enough not to give into his every wish and demand. I go with that.

“We’ll see about that,” I answer, as I try not to trip as he holds my wrists tight so I keep having to walk backwards. I’m stubborn as I state, “No. I won’t give you everything.”

Darc smiles brilliantly through his neutrality and shoves me backwards.

I just manage to keep my balance and I spin around to stride ahead of them.

I was serious in standing up for my rights – what little I had left.

“The longer you wait – the less I’ll tell,” Darc teases.

“I think you mean the longer you will wait,” I murmur under my breath, as I start to stride on slick wet gravel.

No.

Sticky.

Black wet gravel.

I halt as I glare down, confused.

It’s… oh shit, it’s not rain or a run off from water.

It’s dripping down from the left –

As I turn, I see remains up the incline.

The orc.

Gorg?!

I’m frozen as my jaw hits the ground.

He is dismembered. He is in so many parts, I can’t count, strewn around and butchered to hell.

Pushed by a gust of chilled wind, an eyeball rolls down to my feet and I step around to avoid it.

The brotherhood walk by me like it’s nothing new.

“You did this,” I state.

“You were asleep for a minute,” Darc calls back, “You’re welcome for the protection spell.”

“Protection spell?” I yell out.

Darc is watching me with a knowing, smug look.

“We made Gorg your Guard in Sleuth,” Darc answers, proud, “How else will you survive the Academy whence we are not near you? You will study too. Why not? Gorg will kill anyone who tries to kill you, just call him forth.”

Um.

As I stumble along to catch up, I see a small shadow move to my right.

I stop again to watch something a bit more majestic than that horrid sight behind me.

A beautiful black kitty cat slinks it’s way down the rocks and pounces over to rub between my legs.

The hell?

I love cats!

I lean down to pet it, “You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, entranced by it’s yellow eyes and pert little ears.

Gorgeous.

A good name for the Orc turned into a damn cat.

Thank you, Darc?

I guess?

Chapter 7

It’s now deep into night after we return to the dorms from the Temple of Distortion. Darc and his brothers head right out into Dark Academy to torture and murder each other. Or something like that.

I choose to stay back in their dorm, while I wait with rising anxiety, anticipating for the screams to start.

Of course – it is in fact the exact opposite.

An absolute silence reverberates throughout the Academy.

More distorted facts and truth.

It’s silent enough to make me curious.

I venture out, and my black cat companion – lovely Gorgeous – slinks along with me.

It was time to explore – and it felt safe to do so.

I exit the North Tower, in aim of searching for the Vampires.

The night itself is not black, but grey and purple.

Everything is in shade – this realm was truly some kind of in between place. The Under. Not total death, but half way to it.

And so, for the first time – I inspect the Academy.

Every part of this gothic and black palace Academy is empty.

There’s spacious creepy temples for black magic for each kind of monster down here, and an empty library documenting lies and untruths – books with titles of ‘How the World Ended’ 23rd edition. Or ‘The Way of Noway’. Everything was backwards or perhaps even some kind of joke on the truth?

For their studies, the classrooms I also explore in the West Wing. I find nothing but empty rooms. I mean – no furniture. Nothing. Nothing. Everything above is empty. Soulless, lifeless. Even the colourful entry into the lobby seemed to be a façade. A front – with absolutely nothing behind it.

In every direction, it’s like I’m a part of a trick.

I do enjoy the architecture all around me though, like a beautiful abandoned gothic palace, or the projection of something like that, that once thrived.

I do find where everyone went.

Underground. More precisely? In. The. Ground.

Gorgeous’ fur stands on end and his tail puffs out wide and curls aggressively as he shows me the way, to the South Wing, but goes quietly and slowly through the outside courts.

I follow behind at a similar pace, while the wind is howling around me – sounding like the noise of ghosts, seemingly my only company.

Then I find red stairs leading down into the dirt.

Gorgeous leads the way.

The wind stops as soon as I’m down the first curl in the stair case, and then I breath in rotten stale air as I reach a church.

My eyes land on the Fountain of Youth, depleted of blood, the centre of a hub underground. Aside from the many old skeletons hanging from shackles from the ceiling, the entire church is full of alive and seated students – holding hands, heads bowed, wearing black robes.

I’ve taken the last step down, assuming I am unnoticed, and the only one awake.

But then I notice the man at the alter, looking completely… mortal. The young vibrant man is watching me, blood painted around his eyes. He is looking panicked as he paces up and down.

He looks straight at me.

“Please, I don’t want to become one of them,” the man calls to me, but only as if I might be an illusion, as his eyes roll upward, “Oh, please, lord, I don’t want to be a monster, please!”

“You asked for this,” a second figure appears out of the shadows. An elderly frail man, holding out skeleton fingers, cupping the back of the man’s head – I watch his eyes roll back as he drops to his knees and submits immediately, “I, Lord of the Veil, deliver you to infernal bloodthirst.”

Gorgeous sits in front of me now, agitated but watching the whole procession.

The Lord Veil looks right at me, but he’s not perturbed or distracted.

As if I’m merely a fly on the wall, I watch as he casually twists the head – breaking the neck and killing the man without making him bleed.

The body falls forward and silence ensues.

I watch as the Lord Veil turns to face what is behind him – the Fountain of Youth. It caught my attention first because it touches the ceiling, and runs off steaming blood.

One drop slithers down the middle spine of rock, into each basic, toward the skeleton finger. It’s almost empty aside from a few droplets left.

The Lord Veil touches the drop of blood gravitating toward him, it wobbles on his finger as he delivers it to the dead man. He turns the man onto his back and presses the blood drop to his lips.

“Rise up again, for your forever life,” The Lord Veil whispers and it echoes through the walls made of black dirt, soot and ash.

I don’t speak up or move, I just watch without blinking. I’m not sure if I should be so entranced, but I was stuck here – so where else was I to go if not near the action? I do note my bravery, however, even in my tattered silver dress, even after being shredded into by Darc and his brothers. I healed quickly, I flew back to the Upper so briefly in my dreams, and every second I was feeling stronger. Maybe over time my memories would even come back with my growing power.

A third figure appears at the altar – a witch I would guess. Completely naked and so pale she’s almost blue – she stumbles forward with a bright smile on her face, “She sacrifices herself,” she speaks and I cringe with the sound of her absolute pleasure, so excited to… to…

She drops to her knees, places her arm over the mouth of the new undead. Eyes popped open – the fallen man bites into her wrist and starts to drink, pulling her down to go for her neck instead.

The entire time she smiles, while the dead man rises with the death of the female above. A vampire is made?

I’ve missed the Lord Veil standing – now pointing at me.

Without a word he just points at me.

Creepy fucking shit fuck.

Um – run?

Feeling freaked out, I turn and run back up the steps.

Straight up into the ‘fresh’ grey air, with the pale purple sky.

This places feels like a prison.

I look around me, turning and twirling, and the Academy is still empty.

“I need to get out,” I tell myself in a panic, wanting to run but feeling heavy and heavier, like it’s a dream and I can’t make myself move any faster.

Someone is inching their way into my ear, into my head, making me heavy, and heavier… each step… hurts….

I feel breathless.

I feel I weigh what a man would weigh, plus my own weight, plus the dark soul of another.

Got you, Solomon’s snarky voice rests in my head.

We got you, Horace and Fane speak together.

We’re inside you, Ash adds on. It’s like they’re all lying on top of me and I can’t breathe, and I –

Oops, Darc takes hold of my eyes, You’re possessed. Run. He’s teasing me with that snarl, and I have no chance left to fight.

Chapter 8

I can’t talk, I can’t think, I can’t do anything, let alone run.

Get out, get out, get out! I want them out of my head – but I’m suffocating slowly. I can’t even send the thought their way as I stand still in the courtyard.

They’re wrapped around my whole soul.

She can’t function, get out, Solomon snarls at them – and the weight of four more demons vanquishes. The lightness returns and I exhale, You’re still too weak.

But I’m getting stronger, I can think again, I can talk again!

That’s right, Solomon purrs to me, pleasant enough – not long after trying to murder me on the temple’s alter.

I start to walk again, but I feel Solomon holding back, observing a few things first. And then, when ready, he slowly starts to take control of me.

He raises both my hands to my face, covering my eyes. My feet start to move, we start to run.

Where are you taking me? I ask him, innocently.

I’m just glad I can breathe again.

He doesn’t answer me straight away.

I feel myself running for a long while with my eyes covered.

I work out I’m not allowed to see where I’m being taken.

You need to see our real selves. I tried to kill you again to get you in here – but there’s another way in.

I’ve been running up a mountain for some time, and the sound of rushing and gushing water in a valley echoes around my ears as he explains. My feet touch slippery rocks but Solomon keeps my balance for me. I feel safe only in that regard.

I feel the running water pour over me from above. For a few moments I’m not breathing just while walking through a downpour of a waterfall.

And then we’re through.

Solomon walks me along warm rocks – air moves around me briefly, sucked out, as a heavy door slams shut behind me, bolts grinding slowly into place.

It sounds… awfully final.

Lift.

Solomon leaves me.

I regain total control of my body, and I lower my hands from my eyes to look around me.

Um.

I’m ‘shocked’ is an understatement.

No way this exists.

It looks like a penthouse or a club, ripped from a skyscraper, teleported into the inside of a mountain. It’s not natural – it’s magic and it’s –

“Welcome to the Crypt,” Darc’s voice – much older, much meaner – resonates in front of me.

I can’t look at them.

I’ve walked into a place.

A place.

A residence.

A vault.

A crypt?

Darc, Horace, Solomon, Fane and Ash are all here. All six of us.

“I am the Vampire of Dreams,” Darc tells me while leaning over a billiards table to the left, looking at a pile of gold dice in deep thought. He doesn’t look at me in any fashion, but I’m certainly looking at him.

Older. Yep. What the fuck?

Not a young man, that was the distortion – but handsome fully grown demon in his prime? Yes. This is real.

“I am the Vampire of Distortion,” Solomon speaks from behind me – but I’m too afraid to look.

Fuck it.

I force my head to turn and he’s right behind me, his nose and lips are still pierced with jagged silver ancient jewellery, stained with blood from a fresh kill. He’s much taller than I remembered and I feel like a flea in comparison.

“I am the Vampire of Destiny,” Fane is standing by a pool filled with fresh blood – and it’s boiling while he looks over it. I only see his back as well, as he’s looking at his evil cauldron or whatever…

“I am the Vampire of Death,” Horace’s mouth is full; full of an unquenched appetite. He’s drinking lots of wine from a large goblet, sitting on a throne that’s crooked but grande, in the middle of the place… with shackles on each arm and leg. Okay. Not a throne? But he’s using it as a seat.

I can’t look at any of them too long – they’re not boys anymore.

“I am the Vampire of Dishonour,” Ash solidifies into a man right in front of me, making me back up into Solomon in fright. Ash appeared from thin air. Or maybe he moved that fast?

I feel a sharp pointy bit teasing my spine after I lurched back.

I squeak in a breath, but when I look back, it’s only one of Solomon’s long sharp nails. Still not a comfort.

And then my chin, if not my whole head is grasped by Ash.

He pulls me back around to face him, pulling my head up, until I’m on my tip toes, and he’s gazing into my eyes.

Judging me.

I’m speechless.

“Those are just a small part of us out there, what we could make, from in here,” Ash is referring to the boys, “But all of us are trapped in here,” Ash tells me straight, his eyes are pained with betrayal, and I’m about to find out why, “You did this to us. And you’re going to let us out.”

Chapter 9

There is one more intruder in the Crypt.

A furry black cat slinking between my legs, winding and hissing at all the grown men around me.

Ash backs off from a swiping violent paw.

Solomon even moves around in front of me before he’s viciously attacked by Gorgeous.

Horace is silenced on the chair, glaring at that cat.

Fane is distracted from his boiling blood cauldron, also looking over.

Darc finally glances, turning and showing me his true form. Regrettably, he is the most handsome dark angel I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart lurches in my chest, but as I’m instantly and uncontrollably falling in love with that bad man – he’s just glaring silently at the cat.

“We shouldn’t have made him that strong,” Darc sounds like he regrets their decimation of the orc, Gorg, turning him into a – well…

“He’s my Guard in Sleuth, is that not the aim? Protection?” I ask it, confident enough. Darc’s eyes finally start to roll toward me and I get a rush of embarrassment so hard that before they even collide I’m looking at my feet and Gorg himself. Why does he affect me so badly?

The cat is now lounging between my ankles, looking up at me, lovingly – and purring, loudly.

“Without him you’d be dead meat in that place,” Darc explains himself, while Horace starts to make satisfied growling noises, as if appreciating the thought of dead meat.

I look up slightly to see that Ash and Solomon have gone to join Fane by the blood.

I stare in disgust.

I decide I must not move from where I stand by the vault locking me into this strange place from the Upper, stuck in the Under. I don’t know how I know it, I just do. It reminds me of above.

“Ash may have said I’m the one who put you all in here but I have no memory of anything–” I state in distress. I still had no idea what was really the point of all these happenings.

“You know how to get that back,” Darc interrupts me with a broody reminder.

Oh, I remember alright.

For your blood, you receive our friendship.

For your body, you’ll receive your memories.

I know what he wants from me.

“Then I guess I’ll never remember,” I’m defiant, because I was never going to give in to such a ridiculous demand. I was the owner of my body, not him.

There is a stone cold silence and I look up at each vampire – not just fully grown but fully evil. I feel great distrust toward all of them. I’m in a room of vicious killers.

Darc is sharing a pissed off glance with Horace. Fane, Ash and Solomon are clearly pretending not to look at me all together.

I get a small idea.

“If you will not tell me who I am,” I ask Horace, the one who scares me the most, and then to Darc, feeling my soul get light from my body just meeting his eyes, an odd feeling, before my breath leaves me, slamming out of me, “…tell me who you are instead –” I almost choke on the words, having to suck in a deep sharp breath.

Am I being choked?

No.

But the fear was so strong it felt physical just asking a simple question.

If Darc was bad he might smile at such a scaredy-cat reaction, but because he’s plain evil, he doesn’t even care. He expects that reaction.

So does Horace, who just stares blankly back at me.

“Have I not told you; I am the death of you,” Darc explains twice. I try holding his piercing red eyes next, braving them to see if he’ll tell me anything more, “I kill angels –”

Oh, get to the point!

“Then why aren’t I dead yet?” I hiss it out between my gritted teeth, frustrated.

Horace stands as if to object to that statement – as do the others who turn to eat at me with their barely hidden evil intentions.

Snap.

The air shifts, exploding with movement.

Darc has teleported, he fills up my vision and I stumble so hard back I almost fall over, but I just hit the door of the vault instead, while he keeps approaching, not touching me but watching me cower, my spine curls and I feel my blood wishing to fly out of my skin, to escape his presence – to get away from his teeth.

He exuberates dominance over female beings.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Darc’s mean tone turns sickly sweet, his essence drips over me – clouding around my senses. I start to feel cold and hot, my heart stops beating for the amount of time he scares me into this corner. And then he slowly drops his forehead to mine. I look up, somehow sensing that his eyes are closed – while his nostrils flare and I can take in his face this close to mine. Just as I get comfortable staring at his face, he opens his blood red eyes, relaxed as he catches me off guard, holding me in place, “Wynter. Would you please. Would you like. To come to bed with me, my little angel?” he asks like a monster would, or a snake, but it’s also as alluring as thunder, I want to hear it.

I also want to run in the opposite direction.

“No, thank you,” I whisper it as politely as possible.

Darc deliberately licks his lips as they curl to show a fang, drawing closer to my lips. I freeze, while that fang touches me. It tickles my cheek and the corner of my jaw – hovering over my neck, then dragging, in and down – cutting a shallow line and letting the blood run.

I’m frozen solid.

I can’t even make a noise.

As Darc pulls back to look, the tip of his fang glows with silver ink.

No… that’s the real colour of my blood?

Familiar.

I reach up a hand to the cut that doesn’t hurt along my neck – that heals even as I touch it.

Darc steps back again while I pull out my sticky hand to see it covered in that silver ink, like a glittering moon above the Temple of Distortion.

Angel blood. An Angel’s soul.

“You sacrificed all angels in that place in the woods?” I whisper, watching my hand start to shake.

“There’s a gate and there’s this mountain – and there is a river, but the river only flows one way – and you took the river to the Academy, which is your first mistake,” Darc explains, giving me a hint of something else.

“Why would I want to come across?” I ask, while staring at my hand.

“I have no idea,” Darc answers honestly, and that honest answer makes my body almost pull toward him.

I lower my hand and end up leaning off the door, while the other vampires in the room start to crowd in. The brotherhood turn into a wall of inevitability around me. Gorg growls, while they all block me into this door, so I can’t walk past further into their place.

“You came to gloat,” Solomon guesses, his chin is now wiped of blood.

“To see us, to ask, something,” Fane guesses, his eyes trying to steer from my neck.

“She came to die, but she got lost on a downward path when Gorg ripped the wings from her back,” Ash smiles at the cat, who is perhaps protecting me for an entirely different reason.

Possession – not protection?

“Why do you think I came?” I ask Darc.

“To lose your virginity,” Darc unexpectantly tells me something, “As I first offered you, when we first met, I was your teacher, and I promised no consequences… no blood work… I just wanted to take you,” Darc smiles as his eyes glitter with a memory, “But you said ‘oh no, I have a boyfriend’ …Armando… a dog,” Darc finds this incredibly funny, trying not to laugh.

He was my teacher?!

“How is that funny?” I ask, utterly offended. What was wrong with having a boyfriend?

“Because Armando protects your virginity for your power, for his family, for his pack of dogs, wolves, whom shred vampires, to protect the mortals, eventually hoping you’ll give yourself to him when the war is over – but oh no, I killed all the angels and you’re the last one, or the first one, of the next line, for the next war – endlessly infinite. Endless reward. Your God is on our side. He makes you, to feed us,” Darc goes off on a tangent, leaning in to put his elbow near my shoulder, trying to take all the attention, “…I already proclaimed you’re mine to k…” he can’t make himself say kill. He gets lost in euphoria. Freak.

I try not to scowl.

“What are you meant to be?” I ask.

“Crucible Vampires,” Fane answers.

“Black. Blooded. Fallen. And Hungry –” Horace chuckles, Solomon smirks.

“Angry?” I ask Darc. I’m not joking.

“My brothers wish to rip you to pieces but I want to take your heart,” Darc is smiling, as his mouth gets closer to my ear, “…you can’t be here too long, shall I? Possess you…?” he pulls back, though he gets another idea, “Actually,” he whispers, and I think of a cake called death by chocolate.

Weird thought.

Darc sounds demonic with intent.

He suddenly opens the vault behind me, and instead of walking backward into water, I’m pushed. His hand. On my face.

Asshole.

And I’m off.

Falling.

Right down the edge of a fucking cliff from the mountain.

---

I turn around in my free fall and I see clouds disperse out to show trees and the temple below me in the misty valley, ready to receive my dead body when I hit it at terminal velocity.

But as I’m falling, majorly pissed off, Darc’s student body appears from the woods and jumps and rolls back onto the stone, taking my place on the alter while smiling up at me.

I start to slow in my descent – and my body levitates above his as I get closer, just floating, via magic. I’m reaching out my hands to his hands. For some reason, I place my palms over his palms, in a natural way, as I float there with black magic.

The smaller Darc – the younger, little shit version of Darc. Height in check, but lanky and skinny and starved; compared to his original form.

“What’s the purpose of you?” I ask while floating, referring to his second body.

“To have a chance to live outside that hellhole, even if I’m less powerful like this,” Darc drops me and my body lands on his.

I try to lean up and look over him, as he looks up at me, adoringly. Supposedly. It’s a lie, that adoration. It’s more like eventuality.

“You’re less scary like this,” I insult him, over his face, “I like you better like this.”

“Don’t get used to it, damsel,” when Darc is pleasant, it’s disturbing. He’s still evil, even as he speaks with banter.

“Where are you brothers?” I ask, changing subject.

“You’ll learn eventually… they’re always close by,” Darc whispers and his eyes dart to the forest, so I look around to see them leaning on the cherry trees, looking in.

I look past each vampire back up to the Schism in the sky.

The gate.

“You’ll kill me to leave this place,” I sigh, it feels more certain now. I look down at Darc and he loses his happy-go-lucky demeanour while it’s the middle of the night.

“Anyway, Wynter, it’ll be your first day of studying Demon Eye tomorrow –” as Darc is explaining away, there is a hiss above my head.

Gorgeous, levitating above me.

He’s been thrown out as well.

I move off the alter, watching Gorgeous whacking his paws as he lands on Darc’s unhappy face.

I’m consumed with laughter, while Darc shoves him off and gets to his own feet, his face scratched up and burning, including a hurt swollen eye as he swears under his breath.

“I see your weak side now. You’re not so tough are you, if I could put you all in that inescapable cell?” I realise, feeling bold and cocky, “…and I do feel myself getting stronger and stronger all the time…” even now, all my aching has subsided from my death. I see all the brothers come in from the moonlit forest, to stand with Darc. I tease them, “Perhaps I did come to gloat at you,” I then make the first move, I stalk past, glaring at all of them staring at me – staring so hard at me.

Well. It takes me a second to realise.

My dress has come off in the freefall, I pause in my walk, utterly naked. Although, I’m not as embarrassed as I might have been yesterday.

When I slyly look over my shoulder, they’re all staring – but not from lust.

At my back, every eye beholds something shocking.

I look downward and I see – oh!

A tiny pair of baby wings – growing out from a scar. They’re so tiny.

Oh. My. God.

I am an angel! I was healing!

My dress also comes floating down from the sky, landing at my feet between me and the brotherhood.

I turn and lean down to pick it up.

“I’ll give you your memories, just ask me to take you back to the Crypt.” Darc whispers now, almost desperately. Was he in a panic?

I slip my dress over my head, unfazed and languid in my movements.

Once clothed, I face each star struck and silenced vampire.

My answer is simple for Darc, “I’ll never give in,” and I smile.

“Never. Silly girl. Only the eternal can make such a claim as to wait for never. You’re fighting Immortal Sin… you can’t wait,” Darc is trying hard to convince me.

“I’m not dead yet,” I shrug.

“…yet… you mistake my intent, I don’t want you to die,” Darc’s eyes are kind, until he murmurs, with a tilt in his head, as a bit of truth slips out, “…I want you to suffer.”

Geeze.

And all I had to do – was bend over backwards and give my body to him.

Fuck no.

Just to rub it in…

“Never,” I whisper again.

“How about forever? A loyal pet is a demon’s greatest achievement,” Fane explains, politely, while breaking the tension, “Darc wants to play with you and your soul.”

“And what do you want?” I refer to all of them, the rest of them, looking them over.

“We want to kill you,” Fane raises a brow, “…but you’ve clearly taken our brother’s heart… so you must be Destined to fall.”

“Destined?” I remember how he described himself, Vampire of Destiny.

“Fatal love,” Fane explains, “Love knows no bounds… sometimes there’s mistakes but… what can we do… here you stand –”

“Enough – if you tell her anymore… I’ll kill you myself,” Darc threatens Fane, suddenly gripping the nape of his neck. Fane turns into him, their foreheads collide and the glaring of demon souls begin.

Idiots. I scowl.

Horace and Solomon follow suit.

Ash, however, intercepts me, hands shoved in his pockets.

He comes right up to me, Darc’s twin, to cup my cheeks with his palms as he leans down to tell me something of utmost importance.

I feel the severity of what’s coming before he even breathes a word.

“Darling.”

I listen intently.

“Yes?” I gulp.

“When we return, you need to bathe – you’re starting to stink, and we have sensitive senses,” Ash is so calm, and yet, so good at insulting me at the same time. His nose twitches.

I step out of his hands.

I just nod, but I don’t say a word back to him.

We all start to walk off, while Fane and Darc have been pulled from one another before they actually fight.

I walk in the middle of the path, just behind Ash, who is ahead and leading us back in the dark.

“Why do you all want to kill me anyway?” I mutter under my breath, I don’t really ask them, as I’m glaring at the ground, reflecting on the circumstances.

It’s been a tough confusing journey so far. But at least I’m surviving it.

“…oh please…there is no greater pleasure,” Ash has heard me, and answers me from ahead, his voice dropping to a demonic form of pure pleasure – infinite sin, pure evil, “Than watching an angel’s light extinguish from a horrific end.”

“We fuck her for centuries, how about that alternative?” Darc snarls outright. He’s still pissed.

“Thank you, Darc,” I make fun of him, even as he defends me.

Bad choice.

He’s behind me, I feel his glare as he’s clearly starting to dislike how much he likes me.

Darc threatens me all in the same minute of defending my life, “When you free me of the Crypt, you can thank me then, on your bloody knees… begging for my mercy, which I promise you – I will never grant.”

That was unfounded!

“Oh, what did I do to you to deserve that threat?!” I lose my temper, turning around to scream my annoyance at him. It echoes through the valley.

Darc goes disturbingly calm, as he slips the truth, leaning close and saying it like it’s my fault, speaking over my head even as I turn from him, refusing to face him any longer.

“…you caught my eye…”

Ha.

What a joke.

I guess that was my biggest problem.

He was hunting me down for existing.

W-wait…

But perhaps – and it’s just a guess – but up above?

Perhaps I was the one doing the hunting first.

Chapter 10

With my continued healing back to an angelic form, I also receive another ability. I dream that night in Dark Academy of the answer. To almost all of it.

Not only am I powerful… I’ve also been thwarted.

I dream.

Of Armando. And I. Who we were. Together. I see his face and it consumes me. The gold irises and the brown mess of curly hair, the dimple in his chin.

This young man cared deeply for me.

For my kind.

An angel.

The perfect guardian for his pack of werewolves. Armando has two brothers, both younger. All the sons of a deceased father and mother. Everyone in Armando’s inherited pack reveres him and respect him for having me on his arm.

He lives off being revered. He holds me. He brings me closer, and that smile remains as his eyes shine with this strange malice. Suspicious of me.

He accuses me, “Why are you always staying back after class, Wynter?”

“Oh, stop it. He’s just my history teacher, Armando, and you know I love to get as many resources as possible for my assignments. He helps me with that. I want to do my best on Earth as a student and a guardian of the innocent –”

“By sleeping with him?” Armando’s tone turns to ice.

I remember the shock.

I can’t believe he’d even ask that question, in that tone of voice.

And then he hides that look, and he goes on a tangent, and he won’t let me get a word in. Armando convinces me my teacher is a vampire in disguise. He’s correct. Soo correct.

Armando must be right. I loved him too much not to believe.

So I track the teacher, I hunt him, I find his family and I put them all away. Every brother. The Brotherhood of the Betrayed. It’s a powerful victory.

One to celebrate.

Every week they’re locked away will feel like a thousand years. My magic makes it so.

A suitable punishment for evil, an endless wait to be freed. And they’ll never be freed.

So, Armando proud and all suspicions now wiped, we celebrate with a dance at our university we attend. We rent a hall, we invite all the supernaturals and welcomed mortals. A Ball of Peace. For the future.

I believe I’ve supplicated him. Armando. I believe in him. In his love of me. Our love together.

A love I never knew was superficial in the first place.

Until. He invites me, from a close dance – to the outside, to the woods.

Armando takes me by the hand, and my dream starts to warp and turn nightmarish. But it’s all too real.

The trees are caving in around our lovers path, my heart is slowing with a warning every step we get deeper into the trees, my silver dress flowing around me.

Armando’s eyes are darkening.

Evil.

But I’m only with Armando. I sense no one else.

I turn to my beloved in worry, my protector and my best friend, who has one hand slipping in a pocket, as he leans away from me on a thick tree trunk as he looks me over.

While a river flows close by.

I could not hear it seconds before, but it seems to make noise suddenly now.

It’s so odd, like it just appeared.

Then he distracts me, and the abuse of my trust continues, “They say, Wynter, that this forest was the soil all fallen angels hit. They get consumed by the mud, with their broken bodies. They’re consumed deeper into the soil, and they crawl out damned forever. It is haunted at this hour, it’s so ridden with the splattered silver blood, that more paranormal activity sprouted from the angels who bled all over. A portal to the Under is said to rise at 3am, a little leg over into a place where demons kill lone wanderers, and drag their bodies into the river rather than the earth, never to be seen again… you saved us all from further unexplained deaths by putting those evil brothers away. Well done. You did your job. The Brotherhood of the Betrayed were too well hidden for centuries. Not anymore… and never again.”

“…thank you…” my throat is dry, because something isn’t right. Especially with that first half of his speech.

“You were falling for him,” Armando speaks his mind, of Darc, “Weren’t you.”

He’s gone cold again.

I say nothing.

I need to calm him down. I’m not sure why… why he… why he is so upset?

So I approach, and I try to touch him gently.

But I don’t know he’s holding a rock in his pocket – and it’s large enough to do immediate damage.

I can’t get a word in because an evil I’d never witnessed was unleashed upon me.

The worst I’d ever encountered.

A chosen evil.

And I thrash awake.

Into a hot steaming bathtub, my nose heavy with Ash’s bath perfume.

I remember, he ran me a bath.

Waking up scolding hot with a fever and crying in the tub is not pleasant.

“Are you okay, sweety?” Darc calls out from the game room, just beyond the ajar bathroom door.

“No!” I whimper out for help.

I’m too weak to stand from my terror, so I turn on the cold water instead and I quickly fix the balance of the temperature as I also drain some of the excess hot water.

“May I?” Darc asks from behind door, without entering.

“Come in, I fell asleep in the bath,” I explain in a rush, exhausted and my eyes rimmed with black in the adjacent mirror. Darc slips in and shuts the door on everyone else. I stare at myself as I answer him, “…I had a fever dream, Darc…”

“I wish I could have experienced it with you,” Darc jokes about the wrong idea, it’s not the time for that. I grit my teeth.

I face him, and Darc is politely looking at my eyes, rather than my naked body, and I tell him, “I take it back, I’m actually fine, I don’t need to talk,” but I still sound shaken.

“If you’re liable to sleep in water, it’s best you go to bed now, ignore Ash’s sentiment… you’ve never smelled bad,” Darc suggests and is kind, too kind. I know that means he wants me, but, I don’t feel unsafe with him.

The irony.

I picture Armando, someone I trusted – killing me.

I can’t.

I can’t think about it – but… Darc, admittedly demonic, has my interests in mind. For now.

“…actually…” I whisper again, staring at my reflection one more time, “…I don’t want to be alone tonight…” I breathe it out, it’s all I let on, gazing then at my feet and my curling toes, nervous of his answer.

“It’s early morning, almost time for your first class in a few hours,” Darc drawls like a lullaby, helping to distract me, “You should really get a little sleep.”

I just nod.

Darc begins to exit, but as his fingers brush the door, I gasp out, “…with you?” I beg, “Can I sleep with – next – to you… tonight. Even if you don’t sleep.”

Darc slowly turns back to me, a brow raised as he realises the seriousness of it, “The fever dream was that bad, huh?” he asks me, sly.

“…because it wasn’t a dream… it was a memory…” I have to force out the whisper because I don’t like thinking about it. It’s too painful.

Without a word, Darc walks over and turns off the tap, and grabs my pale hand from the rim of the tub – my fingers had been holding it so hard he has to pry them off.

“…a terrible thing…?” Darc murmurs over my head.

I just nod, but I don’t talk.

As he helps me stand, I don’t mind being naked anymore. It’s the least of my concerns.

He leads me from the bathroom dripping wet, out into the game room – where the brothers play poker by a raging fire place.

Horace, Solomon, Fane and Ash watch with confusion and jealousy as Darc leads me directly to his bedroom.

“Brother?” Ash calls out.

Darc just holds up a hand to silence them, he opens his door and he turns to me.

“You’re allowed to enter,” he puts a hand on my back and we walk in together.

I’m glad I’m not in a room of more horror.

This place is just gorgeous, like the bedroom of a prince. Every item is ancient but well-kept in pristine condition. It smells like sandalwood and amber.

I walk over cream carpet, to a crimson bed, and I lie down, my hair isn’t too damp.

I lie on the pillow, above the sheets – warm enough.

Darc stays clothed and sits on his side, sliding down slowly until he slouches, looking me over. We’ve been in this position before.

“Like this?” he drawls.

“Y –” I halt, and I shake my head, as I close my eyes and turn into him, he reads my body language and turns in toward me as well.

As I grasp onto his torso, it’s solely for comfort and nothing else.

Darc seems to understand, somehow, he gets it entirely.

He holds me tight, while I bury my head under his chin.

After some time, I’m still awake – although most of the fear is gone.

“What scared you, sweety?” Darc asks. I hold him tighter and I don’t say a word. I’m not ready. I need to sleep and I don’t want to think about it before I fall into another dream, “I can make you sleep… if you wish it,” I nod into his chin, and he slowly places his warm lips on my ear, “Sleep. You’re welcome.”

I’m sucked down from consciousness.

But of course, he has to be a little arrogant about it.

I just hope there is no price tomorrow, for this ‘extended’ friendship tonight.