For the Hate of God

Like being buried alive

Marcellus POV

I can feel it all. But I cannot move an inch. I am trapped within my own body. It feels like being buried alive. Well, serves me right for trusting the little vixen. For the first time since the death of my mother, I lowered my guard. And to the spawn of my mother's killer, nonetheless. So, every figment of torture that Noosha put me through, gosh, I have well deserved it. I have betrayed my mother. After a gut-wrenching and harrowing torture she endured to keep me alive, after giving up on her life for me to live, what did I do with the chance given? I tossed it all. For whom? f*****g moron, that’s what I am. When I get hold of them, I will burn them all. And this d*ckhead Conrad is first on my list. I mean, after Noosha, of course. He demeaned my father to a position of a cuckold and an i***t whose wife was f*****g around before his eyes. And this is just one of his minor sins.

As soon as those thoughts came across my mind, motherfu**ers boot merged with my face as he high-kicked me and repeatedly smashed me with his stupid dirty boots straight to my face. Thanks, plonker, I thought to myself. The tw.at wasn’t aware that with those moves, he woke up from this f*****g stupor I was in for weeks. I opened my eyes and spat the blood, feeling the fire cumulating in my pupils. That’s amazing. I was in the dungeon, but not the same dungeon where Sentaya dragged me to when Aralyn beat me up. Faded recollection of Conrad dragging me for a collar through muddy corridors of the dungeon emerged. Like I was his dog. I am grazed, muddied and bloody all over. The low-ranked shithead should be kneeling before me, and instead, he collared and dragged me through Avesta dungeons like a slave.

What the f**k this lowlife thinks, who he is? He is up for the shock of his life if he thinks that just because he dipped his wick in Hades’ wife, he is above me. I am going to rip his head off with my bare hands just when I get rid of these constraints. I can smell the spell that blocks my magic, as well as the stench of corpse flowers. They did all the steps to constrain and deprive me of my devil and magic. Ironically, I, the son of the devil, am stuck on a dungeon wall in a crucified position, my legs and arms bound with cuffs soaked in corpse flower and devilsbane. They have collared me like a dog. I raised my gaze just to face smirking Conrad.

I looked at the moron straight into his stupid eyes. His vapid, jaundiced, googly eyes that ogled with a fishlike gaze were on a parr with the starfish brain in that thick skull that hung on the body of a bull; no working brain cell there. What does this fluzie Noosha see in him? I don’t get it. Well, I am sure it has much to do with her demeanour of frolicking sket. He looked at her all toady with his froggy eyes and stood there with thumbs tucked in pockets and hands resting on hips. His bull-like build looked ridiculous in this wannabe cowboy pose while he waited for Noosha’s instructions. She nodded her head to him, grinning at me sinisterly when he fished out the knife and started to carve on my ribs.

I could feel the corpse flower essence penetrating my flesh together with the knife, and blood started to ooze. My blood. Mixed with corpse flower and devilsbane, the knife. He wrote “hores” on my right flank and “sun” on the left. My ichor blood was seeping through me when I burst into a fit of laughter. The fire within me brewed and boiled, tickling, ticking and threatening to explode every second. Idi0ts. I am a son of the god of the underworld. I am the prince of hell. Do they really think they can stop me with plants and a knife? Ridiculous. Clowns.

Noosha watched stoically in the distance of the dungeon, and a smirk was the only crease on her face that showed how satisfied she was. With a quick glance, I saw that her brows suddenly furrowed in the next second, and she vanished in a gust of thick purple fog and smoke. As she dissipated, some strange pain flickered through my body. The pain that I haven’t experienced for centuries. The pain of Wengarthria being under attack. My whole body ached all of a sudden. f**k, I don’t have time for this plonker of hers. Where did she go? Did someone link her about the attack? Is this why she abruptly vanished in the middle of their entertainment night? Whatever the reason, I stayed alone with her fvckboy. And I will use this to get the hell out of here.

“Hey, dim brain, had no one taught you how to spell at least?” I told him mockingly. He snarled and punched me in my bleeding ribs. I laughed with mirth again: “You punch as poorly as you spell. Is this all you have?” I cackled tauntingly.

He actually doesn’t know that he did me a favour with this. His poor attempts of torture have finally woke me up from my stunned state of comma induced by Noosha’s powers. I think Noosha was holding me in an unconscious chokehold since Nan dragged me to the dungeon.

Because, although Aralyn beat the s**t out of me with my abilities, I should have been back to square one in a blink of an eye. Ah, Noosha...

This is the best that she could do with her useless powers in a bid to get hold of my thoughts. I am a more powerful telepath than Noosha will ever be. Noosha tapped into some basics of telepathy thanks to poor Rowena, who is being conditioned to help her in exchange for the wellbeing of her family. Rowena’s sisters, who were not even remotely powerful as Rowena, were abducted and imprisoned by Noosha. I know that Noosha is keeping them alive only to blackmail Rowena to work for her bidding. Noosha could never get to me as there is no stronger telepath than me in Soovaree nor across other realms. Rowena helped Noosha to tap into basic telepathy. Noosha tried to pry into my mind so many times before but never got a chance to do that because my mind was and it is a fortress. The one she will never get her sleazy hands on, no matter how hard she tries. My mind had been an impenetrable, off-the-hook territory from the moment she ended my mother’s life.

She knows it, and it frustrates her to her wit's end. And she tried for centuries since the day they destroyed my mother. This time round, however, in her miserable attempt to control my mind, she used my unconsciousness to her advantage when I was dragged to Avesta by Nan. Although unconscious, I could still prevent her from getting complete control of my mind.

She only had access to my last conscious memories, and those were the thoughts which I used against Aralyn. I don’t think she figured out that Aralyn is Larissa’s daughter and her granddaughter, nor why Aralyn beat me up. However, with the help of Rowena, she morphed the thoughts of my mother’s and Larissa’s deaths and memories of Aralyn’s attack to use them against me and torture me. She kept me unconscious for some time until she was able to locate me in the dungeon—pathetic weakling. If I were in the right state of mind, she would be down in a heartbeat.

What she doesn’t know is that I managed to penetrate her head when she thought she was controlling my mind. That is when I saw figments of her memories, and I have every intention to use them against her. But not for now. When the right time comes. Now I am going to focus on her half-wit fuckboy.

He stuck me again in the shoulder with a shiv, which drenched corpse flower essence. Corpse flower burnt through me, sizzling and blazing every f*****g nerve cell within my body. Blood was leaping from my mouth, flanks and shoulders. My blazing fire was already irked and started to protrude. The frigid effect of corpse flowers is vexing, burning and raging, awakening the sleeping inferno within me. I fell blazing. Hell already flooded my irises and started to overtake me. He just needs to wind me up a bit more, and not even Rowena’s spell will prevent me from shattering these pitiful cuffs that should block my powers. So my goal is to poke Conrad, the dumbass demon, to an extent where he is going to lose control. His poor torture attempts should stir up Ezel, my already vexed demon, who is just about to take over. Just a little spark is needed, and he will explode in all his might.

"Hey, toady, did you get your head out of Noosha's slattern minge? Did she permit you to do some more damage, or this is it? These semi-literate etchings and a few kicks and punches are all that she allows you to do? Awww, she does not allow you to do anything on your own? it looks like it is not just that she thinks that you are limited mentally, but it also looks like she knows that you are limited physically, too.” I cackled while blood dripped from my mouth. s**t, my whole body hurts. The fvcker carved me across the body. It felt like he flayed and butchered me open.

He screamed, snarled and glared at me before he lunged furiously and squeezed my neck. I laughed at him with mirth while gasping for breath. His toadfish face inches away from mine, blowing puffs through his nose. He looked like a bull tantalised by a matador. And then I whispered to him, groaning from lack of air: “Are you allowed to punch me as a man finally, or is this the most she allows you to do?" I jeeringly grinned with my blood-drenched teeth into Dumbwit's face before spitting another bout of blood that pooled and accumulated in my mouth, straight into pricks face. He then threw a series of heavy blows all over my face and body. At the same time, I grinned maniacally through my pain just to push his buttons as much as possible because the Satan beneath my skin was lurking and writhing, just seconds away from erupting and devouring them all.

“Ooh, you are one tough guy, aren’t you, lowly demon?” I asked the dobber with deride and a cackling sneer.

“Is this the best you can do? My grandma hits better than that. Did your little slapper teach you to hit like this, like a pansy? Oh, I just got an idea. Why don’t you carve out some new misspelt essay with your little shiv? That misspelt written diarrhoea was a bigger headache than your pathetic attempt to hit me,” I taunted the fool between fits of hysteric cackles while splattering Noosha’s little b***h with new bouts of blood that flew out of my mouth.

He lunged at me with battle clamour roaring out of his chest and started to choke me with one hand while snarling and skewering me with a dagger dipped in corpse flower and devilsbane. I was gasping for air but still laughed at an idi0t who frantically speared me all over my body. Fvcker is so overwhelmed with rage that he doesn’t even look where he is jabbing me.

And then he tried to stab me in the temple, oblivious that he was about to hit me straight into my pentagram. Oh gosh, I am so glad that he is so stupid. His dagger shattered into pieces. The riled-up satan within me writhing and roaring with imminent, explosive wrath. This time round, I was not taming nor fighting Ezel, my inner demon. And then I felt him bursting out of my body in blazing lava through my skin, pentagrams on my arms and temples pulsating with magma and flames. Shackles around my body melted, and I freed myself of chains, ready to kill the motherfucker…slowly. And then, to my surprise, the Avesta dungeon scenery disappeared. I was pulled through the portal by a forceful tug. In front of me was the dreamy scenery of Nerzelis…and Aralyn. No, her eyes were different. It was her wolf. When Aralyn is in control, she has sky-blue irises with many lilac flakes that make her eyes look violet.

When her wolf is reining, her eyes disappear and become violet pits that exude and radiate pure and crude lilac pixelated energy. Very similar to Noosha’s. Her eyes, luckily, seem to be the only semblance she has with Noosha. She is her father’s daughter. She is the spitting image of Malleteagan. And now, she is in front of me in her human form, yet her Lycan is in control, with all of her raw emotions on display, just for me, and I am in awe. Her sorrow is palpable in the air. Her mascara mixed with tears, which were soaking her cheeks and giving away her true emotions. She was crying. Because of me? What the f**k? Is this for real, or is this another poor attempt at hell-loop by Noosha and Rowena? I didn’t have time to dwell on it, as I felt that Oribus had been under attack, and it seemed we were not at the winning end of a battle. At the same time, I battled with drifting out of consciousness as well. Then everything went black.