Black Rose

6: Nightmare [Aya]

I saw it, again.

That same dream, which has been haunting me since my return from Hell. It always started out the same, until it got to the middle of it - that’s when it changed into something that made me feel like someone was molding the dream into what they wanted. Twisting and turning it until it drove me mad, and I had my suspicions as to who it was.

Faustus.

One didn’t have to be a genius to figure that part out. But it’s not like there was anything I could do about it, since Dreamless Spells no longer worked on me after having used them on me for nearly three years straight. I’d gotten too accustomed to it, and Faustus did his trick there too. By negating anything that could relieve me of the consequence for escaping Hell, engraving it into my mind that this was my punishment.

There was a way out, but it wasn’t the one I would consider taking, it hadn’t even crossed my mind.

My body was thrown through Hell Fire that burned hotter and brighter than any other flame, appearing to be both blue and red. The colors danced within the flames as if they were alive, and were fighting for dominance to settle the score for once and all. The flames left a permanent mark on my body, scars that covered most of my left shoulder area and half of my back.

The scars were a reminder to never forget, to never forgive, and to never trust another without a doubt, again. My mouth opened for a soundless scream, my throat burned from both the fire and smoke. My body refused to move until it dropped, mercilessly, on the ground.

There was a smell of skin melting, burning, melting, burning…My body shook from shock, from fear, and pain. Any sound I made was drowned out by the deafeningly loud screams and moans within Hell.

That’s when the dream would fade into something else, a mix of small bits of truths and lies and twisted desires. His masterpiece, as he’d say.

My clothes were merely a reminder of what they once used to be, now covered in dirt, blood, and whatever s**t I’d come across here. My feet were burned, dirtied, and covered with bruises and blood. Almost broken sandals protected what little had left from them, preventing the ground from getting another piece of them.

And there, besides me stood Shin Soo-Won.

The only person, who’d tried to stop the sacrifice, by idiotically dooming himself when he jumped into the Gateway of Hell and Earth. His long, silky-looking black hair breezed with the wind I hadn’t noticed until now, freely and unrestricted. His handsome facial features were marred, broken, and starting to look something else. One of Soo-Won’s gray eyes was slowly turning red, blood bleeding from it.

Almost as if he was crying.

I let out a cry, nearly begging Faustus not to show it to me. I knew what would happen, what happened, and that I couldn’t do anything to stop Soo-Won from turning into the last being either of us wanted to be.

A demon.

Soo-Won was a good inch or so taller than me, it often felt like I was the size of an ant whenever I was in his presence. He held out a hand, palm up, showing me the fading tattoo I’d put there. I took a step back, accidentally pushing some rocks over the cliff behind me. My heart skipped a beat, we hadn’t been anywhere near a cliff.

“Do it,” Soo-Won’s voice sounded raspy, tired, and sick. His eyes were still on the fading spell that was meant to prevent him from turning into a demon, and yet, here we were.

Wake up, damnnit!

I frantically shook my head, unable to say a word, only to scream a moment later as a sword was thrust through his bare chest. Soo-Won’s long black hair flowed as though time had stopped, his mouth open and eyes widened in shock. I couldn’t move even as I watched his body slowly falling towards the ground. But it never came, instead, he was suddenly behind me, holding me in his cold arms.

His long nails dug deeply into my arm and chin, forcing me to look at his crazed face.

“You can’t save anyone.” His teeth grazed my ear as he licked me, pressing down the trail of kisses, leaving behind bite marks. I moaned. “Least of all, someone, who asked you to do so.”

Not real, I told myself, flinching when I could feel his long nail dragging down my neck - feel his touch which I craved. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling, despite knowing it couldn’t be real.

It wasn’t real.

‘You know what you need to do, Mistress.’ Faustus’ voice echoed in my mind like a loud church bell that wouldn’t shut up. Then, something cold pierced my heart - a hand had opened my chest - and I let out an unwilling scream, preparing myself for the impact as I fell towards the ground.

It never came.

Instead, when my eyes snapped open, I found myself lying on the Howling Aquilo’s cold floor tiles, and I was staring at the bright brown couch in front of me. It took me a few good minutes to recall what happened after Setsu had left. Faustus had induced sleep, taking advantage of my small Mana (spiritual power) levels.

“s**t,” I bit my lips to keep from crying, covering my eyes as I curled up like a feral cat. My back felt like it was on fire, it burned and hurt so, so, so, so, so, so much. “f**k you, Faustus.”

The Demon merely laughed, sending me a holographic picture of him sitting on that damn throne of his and drinking blood-red wine. I wouldn’t be surprised if it did turn out to be blood, Faustus had no qualms to show it to me. The throne, made from the bones of his victims and offering, looked even more ghastly than it did the last time I saw it. His ruby red eyes gleamed in the darkness, shadow covering his body.

I didn’t want to see the form he’d usually take. I didn’t want to see Soo-Won, not like this.

‘Easy there, Mistress,’ the bastard was f*****g amused. ‘Or someone may hear you.’

“…Fuck off,” I had no desire to humor him. Not when my back felt like someone was grilling melted cheese on it, not when he’d ripped open the emotional wound left by Soo-Won’s death.

It was in moments like this when I regretted the decision to form the Contract with the Demon Prince, the trickster and worst demon all around you could imagine. But desperation does something to people, even when we know it’s the wrong choice. All I wanted to do was to save Soo-Won from becoming a demon, I wanted him to go back home. Even if I couldn’t.

I should have remembered the stories I was told as a child, the demons lie.

Always.

Only to watch Soo-Won die, his blood on my hands.

‘He would’ve died, either way, Mistress.’

I knew that.

But I didn’t want to believe it. Because if I did, it would mean his death was my fault. That I was the one, who doomed him. Not the other way around.

“Poke,” my body jolted at the sudden touch of someone’s warm finger on my cheek, nearly punching the culprit in his face on instinct, only for my fist to be caught not even anywhere near my target.

My eyes widened as I found myself staring at Haruse Seiren’s ocean-colored blue eyes. Faustus growled, and Seiren responded by poking the emerald on my necklace. Temporarily silencing the connection created by the Contract.

“Now, he should be quiet for a while,” Seiren said, effortlessly lifting me up from the floor. Rather than placing me back on the couch, he sat down and positioned me so that I laid my feet over the arm-side and my head on his lap.

I blinked.

“Which is perfect, since I don’t like sharing what I consider mine."