NIGHTS OF HALLOW-Chapter 108: Repaying Evil with Evil.
Thank you for the golden ticket @Unknown2421. <3
____★
"It is Churchwoman Martha," Daemon answered and watched the reaction of Sthena.
Sthena stood beside Daemon and leaned on the rail with a thoughtful look on his face while nodding his head understandingly.
"Hmm," He hummed after some seconds of staying silent. He said, "The insignificant turns out to be significant though I’m not that surprised to know she is the one acting as the dog."
"What a brave and silly act of Vetis," Sthena clicked his tongue. "He should have at least made someone closer to the Headchurch his puppet than someone who will be eliminated soon," Sthena spoke as if he was talking about the weather while staring at his sharp nails that he elongated.
"They’re making this hand itch to tear someone’s heart apart. But I’ll let them have a little fun before I make myself known. Isn’t that a smart move, Dae?" Sthena tilted his head to the side enough to look at Daemon.
"It is, Sthena," Daemon replied with a knowing look, making the smile on Sthena’s face widen.
"You’re always akin to my thoughts, Dae." Sthena patted Daemon’s shoulder. "You could use some heat in this cold weather like you told the princess. Go and rest for the night."
Daemon rolled his eyes before leaving the balcony and Sthena still standing there before he teleported to his room that was dark with no light in it.
He walked to the bed and sat down, running his hand over the surface of it with a vacant look on his face.
He couldn’t remember when last he laid on this bed which Perdita had slept on some days ago. He didn’t and couldn’t sleep, he just rested for a while on the couch. Not that he needed it anyway as sleep was one of the last things a pureblooded vampire like him would need.
Maybe he should sleep on it and check whether what happened the last time he slept on it will happen again. It has been so long since he felt the pain. He wanted to reminisce about the feeling of it again. The pain that was familiar yet so distant and locked away in one part of his head.
Without removing his shoes or his outer coat, Sthena lay on the bed with his back and his face upward, staring at the mirrored ceiling that reflected the eyes of a young boy that burned with fire and hatred.
Sthena’s eyelids closed on their own accord without him closing them, and soon the man on the bed was transported miles and miles away from reality, back to the time when humans ruled over vampires.
It was the time of noon and one could hear the chattering of the people as they moved around in the local market, doing the things they usually do every day. Buying and selling.
A little boy of seven walked in the hustle and bustle going on, not bothered about being pushed and turned to the side by the impatient huge bodies that slammed against his tiny one.
As a boy of seven, he was tall for his age, except for his lean figure, one would mistake him for a boy of ten.
His red eyes burned, and his face contoured with anger he was using to hide the hunger in his stomach that made the worms cause chaos in his stomach.
He walked away from the busy market and entered the secluded part of it, away from the prying eyes that haunted him with evil glances cast on him because he was a creature of the night.
But this was not the only reason for their hatred towards the boy who didn’t know and didn’t beg to be born that way. It was all nature and fate that made him the way he was.
Sometimes, when the pain of going hungry and being humiliated over and over again, being beaten to the brink of death, he cursed at nature for making him the way he was. For letting him come into the world as a vampire.
But as time went on, the mind of this little boy changed from the hatred he felt for nature to the humans who treated him and his mother like a plague.
Why run away when he can have the upper hand and drink the blood of his tormentors? He once thought and had tried it when his fangs for the first time pierced the neck of a boy older than him, and he had drunk him almost to the brink of death just like how they did to him.
But was that where it ended? No. It didn’t end as he thought. The satisfaction was there for a minute but the pain came at him ten folds than what he felt earlier when the same humans by the order of the ruling king then, killed his mother before his eyes.
Years passed like a withering flower and this same boy had grown into a fine young man of eighteen years. His short red hair caught the attention of many and this too did not sit well with the same humans who wouldn’t leave him be after brutally ending the life of his mother they termed that they were eradicating evil from the land.
’Look, it is the red-haired leech,’ One of the young men of his age shouted across the street, and just like flies attracted to sweet, they all rushed towards him with weapons in their hands.
’Hey, leech! What are you doing sitting there? Huh?’ Another young man asked and others laughed and cheered.
’Why? Don’t you like as I am here?’ The red-haired man questioned with a smile, as an evil plan swirled in his head.
’What’s with the creepy smile huh?!’ The first young man shouted. ’Do you want me to stick this rod into your heart just like how it plucked your mother’s heart?’
A roar of laughter echoed around the place as the young men taunted the red-haired man.
’Of course,’ The red-haired man replied barely showing any emotion of being reminded of what they did to his mother. Of how they murdered her in cold blood. Meanwhile, behind this facade was a young man boiling with rage that was going to engulf the world soon.
’You can try and stick it in,’ The red-haired man continued and chuckled. ’But I think you can barely hold it in your weak hand.’
The words of the red-haired man were enough to boost the ego of the first young man and he rushed towards him with the rod in his hand. He held it in a firm grip wanting to end the life of the bloodsucking leech in their village.
By now, onlookers had gathered while watching the scene. They all anticipated what will happen as they all wished to end the life of the vampire once and for all, but what happened in the next second had their eyes wide with fear and anger.
Before the first young man could pierce the heart of the red-haired boy, the rod was caught in a firm grip by the young man whose eyes now blazed red with anger.
With a swift movement, the red-haired man twisted the rod such that it was now pointed at the heart of the first boy.
’I told you, you’re too weak to hold the rod’ The red-haired man tsked. He held his hair in a tight grip and his fingers elongated and now pointed at his heart replacing the rod. He asked the onlookers, ’Whose son is this?’
No one dared to speak. They all cowered in fear with their hearts beating widely in their chest with one thought in their minds,
’Do not anger the red-hair devil, else you get burned.’ And they were all going to get burned soon.
Now they knew the tale was true as they stared at the bloodthirsty young man looking all savage as if he couldn’t wait to destroy the world and the people in it.
’Seems like nobody wants to claim you.’ He spoke in the ear of the first young man.
’He’s my son!’ A voice shouted and a woman came running through the crowd that had formed. ’Release him at once!’ She shouted when she was just some feet apart.
’Oh, here comes the mother hen.’ The red-haired man laughed. Only he could find something like this one funny. Just like how the laugh started, it abruptly ended and was replaced with an evil smile.
’Too late, Mother hen,’ He clicked his tone in fake sadness. ’Your son committed a grave sin, and I’m going to help cleanse the evil from the village.’
’What are you saying?! You’ve gone mad! You’re the evil one. Release my son now!’ The woman cursed and shouted with tears running down her cheeks.
The red-haired man stared at the ranting woman with his head bent to the side as he regarded everyone that gathered in the village. Even the friends of the young man he was holding were nowhere to be found.
His cold and burning gaze went from one face to the other, instilling fear into their already shaken bodies. He spoke in a loud voice.
’Consider this as a present my magnanimous heart could give the village as I cleanse the land from evil just like you did on the day you all brutally killed my mother.’
Immediately he finished speaking, his nails slowly pierced into the heart of the man who struggled to free himself but to no avail.
The fear-stricken humans could only watch as the nails of the red-haired vampire they have always bullied and had gone as far as to kill his mother retaliate with equal evilness.
The nails of the red-haired vampire found the heart of the boy and he pressed it, to let the dying boy and the people know what it means to pluck one’s heart.
Having created the fear he wanted in the people, he finally pulled the heart of the boy out and dropped it on the ground to the horror of everyone, marking the first kill done by him.
He bent and tore the clothing of the dead man and used it to clean his blood-smeared hand. He looked up and said, ’If you have more evil to clean, please do well to call me as I would be more than glad to help you all.’
