Chapter 84: That Was Fun

The sight of the single, massive black wing, so out of place yet so perfectly fitting on his back, stole the breath from Mother’s lungs. The sharp horn protruding from his forehead pulsed with a dark light, mirroring the wicked, predatory gleam in his eyes. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that she had made a terrible, fatal mistake. This was no longer a battle; it was a slaughter, and she was the prey.

“I… I do not understand,” she stammered, her voice a mere whisper, her hands trembling slightly. She was the ruler of this domain, the source of all its power, yet in this moment, she felt utterly, completely powerless. The fear was raw, visceral, something she had never experienced before… not from a human, at least.

He laughed, a deep, chilling sound that resonated with pure, unadulterated joy. It was not a laugh of amusement; it was the laugh of a predator who had finally cornered its quarry. His teeth, now sharpened into fangs, were fully exposed, a gruesome smile stretching across his face. “This is incredible. So much power at my command… Look at you… trembling like a rat. Where is all that confidence you showed earlier? You even called me arrogant, remember?”

He took a step toward her, and she flinched, her body recoiling from his very presence. He was no longer just a powerful opponent; he was something else entirely, something… monstrous. The purr that had once vibrated from his chest was gone, replaced by a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down her spine.

He extended his hand, his newly formed claws glinting in the dim, red light of the room. “Tell me, how does it feel to be on the other side? To be the one who is afraid?” His voice was soft, almost a caress, yet the words carried a weight of menace that made her heart race. She did not answer, but the violent shaking in her hands gave away her emotions.

With a speed that defied her perception, he appeared in front of her, his claws grazing her cheek, leaving a thin line of blood on her pale skin. He grabbed her by the throat, his grip surprisingly gentle yet unyielding. “I have always hated being controlled,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. “You made me remember that.”

He lifted her off the ground, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. “I am going to make you suffer,” he said, his voice a mix of pleasure and malice. “Not just physically, but in every single way you can imagine. You took something from me, and now, I am going to take everything from you.”

He tightened his grip, and she gasped for air, her lungs burning. She tried to struggle, to kick and claw, but her efforts were futile. His power was overwhelming, crushing her with every passing moment.

“Let’s start with that beautiful face of yours,” he said, a twisted smile stretching his lips. His claws elongated further, becoming like razors. With a flick of his wrist, he sliced across her cheek, the skin parting easily, spraying blood across his face. She screamed, a high-pitched wail that was cut short by his hand clamping over her mouth. He chuckled, licking the blood from his face, his eyes burning brighter. “Oh, do not worry, there is more where that came from.”

He released her mouth, and she gasped for air, her face contorted with pain and terror. “You… you are a monster,” she choked out, her voice trembling.

“No… I might just be worse, actually.” He chuckled, running his claws down her arm, the fabric of her dress ripping under the pressure. He sliced across her arm again, deeper this time, and she let out another scream. He then moved quickly, tearing off her clothes, leaving her naked and exposed.

He traced her curves with his claws, his touch delicate, almost loving, yet each touch brought a fresh wave of agony. “Such a beautiful body,” he whispered, his voice dripping with mockery. “It is a shame it has to be destroyed.”

He moved to her side, his claws tracing lines across her skin. “Tell me, do you enjoy pain? It is what I am feeling right now, so I would like to see if you also enjoy this, so I can keep doing it.” He sliced open her side, deeper than before, causing her to let out a scream that made his heart beat with joy. He then proceeded to trace the open cut with his claw, causing her to writhe in agony.

“See? You do. So let’s continue.” He tore into her skin again, his claws slicing open her stomach, her organs spilling out. The sight of it made him laugh again, a sound that made her heart race with absolute terror.

He did not stop. He tore into her, his claws ripping through flesh and bone, each strike precise, brutal, and filled with a sadist’s joy. He tore off her limbs, one by one, the sound of ripping flesh and shattering bone filling the ruined throne room. He tore out her eyes, their sockets dripping with blood, their once-captivating red glow replaced by empty black holes. She was no longer screaming, her voice reduced to a weak whimper. She was broken, mutilated, her once-pristine form now a mangled mess.

He continued his torturous dance, his movements fueled by a dark, insatiable glee. He tore off her skin, exposing the muscle and bone beneath, his face twisted into a rictus of pure pleasure. He ripped open her chest, tearing out her heart, just as she had done to him, crushing it in his hand. The blood splattered on his face, feeling like a warm kiss.

He stood over her broken form, his body trembling with excitement. He was covered in her blood, his claws dripping with gore. His eyes glowed with a dark, inhuman light, his expression filled with a cruel, satisfied grin.

“Is that all?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Are you ready to die now?”

He plunged his sword into her body, the dark energy surging through her form, tearing it apart from the inside out. Her body twisted, her limbs contorting in unnatural ways, and with a final, shuddering breath, she went still. He ripped his sword out of her, letting her body fall onto the cold stone floor. He looked at her mangled corpse, his chest heaving, his body trembling, a smile never leaving his face. He had done it. He had finally gotten his revenge.

The single black wing on his back disappeared, his body changing back to normal, the horn receding back into his forehead. He looked at his hands, still covered in blood, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“That… was fun,” he whispered, licking the blood from his fingers. He looked around the ruined throne room, his eyes now filled with a strange calm. The once-oppressive presence of Mother was gone, replaced by a silence that was both eerie and liberating. The fight was his.

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