For the Hate of God

Where are you, little mouse?

Aralyn POV

-The day of the Oribus battle-

***Trigger warning: scenes of physical and emotional abuse***

"Where are you, little mouse? You can get out of your hole. The danger is gone."

I trusted her, and that was a mistake.

Well, blame me for being stupid. She warned me over five years ago that I shall trust no one. I came out and saw the absolute havoc in front of me. Hades' army came scything and harvesting everything on their way. They have picked up the corpses of fallen Lycans in front of the pissed-off Sentaya.

She looked calm, but you could feel the scorching anger boiling behind lifeless pits that were her eerie eyes. I looked at the army and felt like my heartbeat had stopped entirely. I had heard stories about him when I eavesdropped on the chats between Sentaya and Denexus. Still, I never actually saw him until today.

Hades' army was led by Marcellus Riggs. Rumour has it that he is Hades’ illegitimate son. He looked at me as if he saw through the cloaking spell that Sentaya cast to protect me. He paused and froze for the moment; his gaze looked as if he was in shock and disbelief, but that was just for a second. He quickly masked his gaze to an empty, cold and impassive one in the next moment. The next thing I saw was him pointing out with the scythe towards me and murmuring some indistinct order to the demon next to him. I couldn’t hear what he said to the bloke next to him because of the clamour and melee of the grounds, which were bloodshed battlefield just a moment ago.

In the blink of an eye, I was picked up by some Goliath-looking demon. The last thing I saw was the upturned bloodbath of the Oribus battlefield. I was turned upside down in the hand of the demon who was carrying me in one hand and a scythe in another. I flew into the bottomless pits of hell, taken by the demon who was just a step behind Marcellus Riggs. Marcellus was leading Hades' army and was about to bring prey from Oribus's battle to Hades.

The pile of disfigured Lycans and me-the only living being among those harvested. I remember screaming, thrashing and tossing to get out of the demon's vice-like grip, but to no avail. At one moment, Marcellus turned to the demon holding me and gritted through his teeth: “Norgarth, if you don’t shut the bi.tch up, you will join Lycans”. I felt a snap around my neck area, and everything went black.

“Odium perdet Endymionis primogenitum sanguine. Hora mortis eius non cognoscetur donec amor deiectus ex cinere non resurgat et radicem eius frangat, sanguis odii sanguinem quaerit et manu amoris ductus effunditur.”

Those words echoed when I woke up with a headache breaking my skull in half. What were those freaky words that rang through my mind on repeat? Even the language they are chanted on does not seem even distantly intelligible. What does that mean? Where am I? Oribus seemed like a joyride in a park of azaleas compared to this. The putrid smell of demise, piss, puss, blood, soil and blood wafted my nose, and I almost retched. What the heck is wrong with me and vomiting at everything?

It’s pitch black around me. I started to tap my surroundings to feel where I was. Everywhere I touch is soft, squelching and mushy. My reflex to vomit went berserk. Even my Lycan sight is not of help here. Then, to my horror, I tapped something soft, sticky, smelly and gooey. It stuck to my hand and then dripped lazily from it. I tried to focus on discerning what it is, but it would’ve been better if I hadn’t.

It was a necrotic puss of semi decayed corpse mixed with worms. I looked at the cadaver and saw its googley, hollow, walleyed eyes, which, although they appeared glassy and off, still held the horror. Significant parts of its cheeks were already necrotic and wasted. Skull, bones and teeth were already exposed. And this was just one of many on the pile.

I screamed hysterically, clutching my head, which still throbbed. This was not an intelligent thing to do, stupid, I told myself, as I figured out that I smeared fuc.king remains of the corpse all over my face and hair when I touched my head. I vomited bile and started to crawl away through my vomit and necrotic waste that surrounded me, screaming frantically, only to bump into more gory corpses. I thought I’d have a heart attack. I sat on the relatively clear part, clutching my knees while curling in a ball swinging back and forth and did the only thing I could - I cried.

Maniacal laughter echoed out of nowhere, and the doors, which I hadn’t seen in the dark before, opened. Marcellus came in with a gang of his demons. The sinister, distorted cackle came from his servants. The devious smirk plastered the corners of his lips was the only curve that contrasted his face fuelled with disdain and disgust. What is that thing with men? Every man that I met in my life looked at me with that kind of look. I am probably not the prettiest woman you will meet. I am also aware of the gooey sh.it I accidentally smeared on my head a few seconds ago. Still, c’mon, I am not that ugly. He clicked his fingers, and the dungeon box room was lit. And God, how I wish it weren’t.

“Oh, the mighty Moon Princess, welcome to Wengarthria or, as you Earthlings like to call it, the final circle of the hell”, one of the minions mockingly said.

“Do you like your new premises, Moon Princess? I hope you do because this is where you will spend the last days of your life. But don’t worry, you have plenty of time and torment to pass by until you get there.” another added.

“Mate, mate, mate, mate”, that voice in my head yelled excitedly. I have not heard it since the battle of Oribus. I thought I was just psychotic due to the atrocities seen in Oribus, but here we go again. Does my distress trigger this voice? And now this voice seems louder and more apparent. I lifted my gaze towards them to satisfy my masochistic need to gauge Marcellus again. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t resist the urge to look at that face again.

Fu.ck, he looked like a wet dream of every female being that ever set foot in any realm. And when I did look at him, the voice inside me became even more loud and ecstatic. I caught his eyes, steel grey orbs that reminded me of a sky just before dusk. For a moment, it seemed to me that he was looking at me with shock, disgust and horror instead of the hatred and disdain I had seen before. He looked in an unknown direction, his facial features now morphed to fury.

“f***k you, Noosha! I know this is your doing! If you think you will f***k me up with this, you are so wrong!” he snarled exasperatedly, looking in an unknown direction. He looked enraged and livid. The frown between his brows increased. His face had cracks, especially around his eyes where fire embers protruded. The fire seemed to be rippling beneath the surface of his skin. He was the epitome of distorted and destructive anger.

Marcellus POV

What a f***k!? No way this bit.ch is my mate. Disgusting little who.re has only one purpose, and that is to be my punching bag for fuelling off my rage against her fuc.king bloodline. Well, at least until I don’t get my claws into fuc.king Noosha’s ribcage and until I don’t rip her fuc.king heart out with my bare hands.

I am sure this is some spell, witchcraft or whatnot by Noosha. There is no way that this little nobody is my mate.

This disgusting bag of bones covered with vomit, blood and mud cannot be someone destined for me. I hate every drop of blood that runs through her body. The creature is Noosha’s descendant. Noosha, the woman responsible for the rape, torture and death of my mother. Just a thought of Noosha makes my blood boil. Bile rises to my throat, and anger to possess my body. Same Noosha, who forced me to watch my mother’s final hours. She was sneering to tears I was choked with when I watched my mother’s torment. I was just a six-year-old boy, and she tortured my mother in front of my eyes. She tortured me by making me watch my mother being raped and killed in front of me.

Although Noosha is torn in my eye, to say at least, I still cannot avenge my mother and get back to Noosha, not yet, but that day will come eventually. And until then, I was pleased to have this little mongrel to have a little bit of payback and fun. This stupid mutt cannot be my mate!!! This must be some Noosha’s trick. I am not buying it.

Aralyn’s POV

Marcellus’ minions looked confused for a second with his reaction. I had a feeling that this underground inferno maze city would crumble and fall from the strength of his crazed roar. The next second, he was next to me and kicked me with his army boot straight into my jaw, and I fell on the ground due to the strength of his impact. As the pain grew all over my body, I could hear crunching noises when he continued his rampage by stomping over my face, disfiguring it.

He tugged my hair, forcing me to look straight into his eyes. And his eyes looked like neon lava, blazing fire, embers and hatred: “Close your eyes, Moon who.re, because this will hurt, I swear.” he calmly whispered in my ear, causing shudders of fright to fuse my spine and whole body.

He stopped for a second as if he was assessing me. He gripped my hair tighter and smashed my face against the concrete floor violently while blood splashed around me. After some time, his hunger for my blood and torment seemed to be satiated. He finally started to loosen the grip on my hair.

But before he did that, he came closer to my face, looking directly into my eyes and said:

“You disgusting who.re, I fuc.king hate you!”

He spat on the ground next to me before he left and said to his brainless marionettes: “You know what to do with the bi.tch.”

To my surprise, without a word, they took the corpses away from the cell and left me an old breed full of mould and a pot that would fit for feeding dogs filled with water. Well, we could debate if it should be called water. The substance in the pot looked like it was brought from a muddy puddle.

Then they strapped my arms and legs and left the dungeon.

Uhm, dickheads, even if I didn’t have a broken nose and fractured ribs and jaw, and God knows what else, I wouldn’t be able to eat this crap when I am strapped.

I felt like an utter weakling when I started crying again, but this is all I have left.

So, once again, hot streams of tears flooded down my disfigured face. Then everything went dark and silent as I drifted out of consciousness again.