For the Hate of God

Trust no one

Naevres POV

“f***k! No! Bi.tch!” I screamed after her. I stupidly believed her. I could feel unknown magic before hearing the brief commotion and those very words: “f***k you, Marcellus, f***k you, Wengarthria. See you never again.”

The b***h fuc.ked me up. I believed her, and she signed my death sentence without even thinking of the consequences of what will happen to those who stayed here after her escape. Marcellus will have my balls fried for this. He had acted overly strange since she was dropped off in the dungeons weeks ago. He was babbling about unresolved childhood issues and vendetta occasionally when someone mentioned her. Still, I felt like there was way more behind this. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something is fishy here.

Well, either way, I am dead meat.

What a f***k am I going to do now? Shall I try to escape too? f***k no, with his abilities, Marcellus would find me in one breath, and when he would, I would be in an even more fuc.ked up position than I already am.

“Fuc.king b***h, aaargh” I punched the wall making a massive crater in it. I sat on the chair and fisted my hands in my hair angrily. I wanted to rip my hair from the scalp for being so naive and stupid.

“Aaargh, fuc.king b***h” I tossed the bowls from the bedside table that still contained leftovers of the bloody soup. “Fuc.king i***t” I went out of the room, slamming the bloody door. A few seconds later, I returned, still not believing what had happened.

“Boss, we have a problem. She escaped,” I said as calmly as I could, although I was internally shitting my pants when I thought of his imminent wrath.

“What a f***k do you mean, she escaped, you imbecile?” he snarled. Even through mind-link, he sounded livid, feral and ferocious. I am so fuc.ked up.

Marcellus POV

I was in the middle of a discussion in the study room, glancing at whiskey I was swirling nervously in the glass. I was forced to participate in the debate, as well as my half-sisters Ramaalen and Elantria. Still, two of them remained silent, disconnected and disinterested, as always. My father and his bi.tch, Noosha, wanted to see me and discuss the progress of transformation and training of Lycans we picked up in Oribus. Yordanreen was lying on a settee, stoned or drunk or…I don’t know, maybe even both, barely keeping his eyes open. The stench of women and men he had orgies with just before we were summoned here by father was lingering heavily in the air. Everyone seemed to be ignoring it. Myself included. He…could not give a less shi.t even if someone would say anything about it. The guy is epitome of carelessness. Well, I guess it is professional malformation which goes with the job description and person specification, given that my half-brother is a god of hedonism and wine.

“Yeah, they are tamed and are adapting to rules and drill quickly. They will be a useful force that we can count on for sure. Some of them have extra abilities, and almost all of them have lethal combat skills.” I said nonchalantly.

“Good, we will need such force for the upcoming war. And now, given that their souls are our assets, they are weapons in our hands, controlled by us, deprived of any weaknesses. They will be perfect warriors. You will have an even stronger army when you take over the rule, son,” Father said matter-of-factly, hoping to tease out the reaction from Yordanreen. Any reaction. But that never happened. The guy was entirely disinterested in anything apart from fun and pleasure.

I was internally rolling my eyes on father’s words, too. I don’t give a s**t about the ruling. My half-sisters still appeared as if they didn’t give a s**t either. Noosha, however, tried her best to preserve an impassive expression. Although, unlike my step-siblings, who seemed utterly uninterested in the topic, traces of annoyance, disagreement, disappointment, and rebellion could be seen on Noisha’s face. Noosha did an excellent job hiding her disdain towards me, the son of her husband’s mistress. She even asked me to call her mum. f*****g hypocrite. She did an even better job at masking her aversion to the idea of concubine's son becoming the heir of Hades and ruler of the whole underworld. Well, suck it up, mommy. b***h! Oh f**k, how I hate this f*****g woman’s guts! I would give everything in the world to get my hands on her and squeeze the living sh.it out of her. I would even give this stupid inferno kingdom. No, actually, as far as I am concerned, they can give this f*****g kingdom to Yordanren, her half-witt-drunk-ass-tw.at-son.

Although that brainless tw.at would probably eat, drink and shag everything that comes to his hands in the kingdom when he would take over the rule. Then, when things go wrong, he would probably run away from any form of duty and responsibility, as usual. And I would be the one who’d have to clean up his mess, as usual. At the end of the day, this is not completely unexpected, given that he is the God of hedonism, debauchery, self-gratification, indulgence and divinity of better pedigree than mine, as Noosha pointed out to Hades carefully a few times. I mean, Hades is his father, the same as mine, but my mother is a nymph, unlike Noosha, who is the deity. Regardless of pedigree and pecking order, even Noosha knows that the bloke is not the sharpest tool in the shed. Actually, he is probably the most obtuse and shallow one among deities. That is perhaps why he is God of hedonistic, worldly and superficial pleasures, with no actual powers. That probably irks Noosha more than the fact that I am more fit for the role than her dumb-wit of the son. She knows it, father knows it, god damn-everyone knows it. That is probably why father was very loud and clear for a long time that he wants me to take over the rein of the underworld once he backs away. He never asked me, though, if I wanted it. And honestly, I don’t.

I would give it all just to strangle Noosha slowly, watching life leave her hypocritical body. The same way she did to my mother in front of my eyes. I started to squeeze the whiskey glass as anger flared. I cannot do it because of my father and my half-sisters. At least not yet. But the next best thing is Aralyn. I smirked gleefully at the thought that Noosha did not know whom I was hiding in the Avesta dungeon. The same dungeon where she tortured my mother, well…and me, I guess, to an extent. Dungeons were just beneath the Avesta castle, my father’s gift to my mother when she gave birth to me. It is one of the most beautiful places in Wengarthria. Abandoned though, since my mother’s death.

Well, it was a beautiful place until Noosha tainted every childhood memory mom and I made there. It was, it was…beautiful indeed, I thought with nostalgia.

…until she threw mom and me in Avesta dungeons to torture us. Now, I will use the same fuc.king dungeon 34 to get back to her by giving a taste of her own medicine to her stupid spawn. Her granddaughter. Oh, I am just mentally strategising and thinking of new ways to torture the little b***h. I might use some of my powers to invoke nightmares in her, just for the sake of fun. Physical damage became boring, and I had to wait too long for her recovery for a new round.

“Is this all?”- I swigged the whiskey in my glass. As I was about to leave, f**k-wit Naevres mind-linked me, and I almost choked with whiskey.

“Boss, we have a problem. She escaped” I paled and then flared with fire as anger consumed me. I could feel the blaze rising under my skin and overtaking my eyes and stupid pentagram insignia. That one always reveals my emotions, especially anger. The fire flares in my pentagram runes when anger consumes me. And my eyes, f*****g hell, they always morph to fiery blaze colour when I am infuriated. And the flames in my irises are timid version of my anger, when it possesses me completely, they morph to charcoal black with Oribus tendrils laced within.

“What a f***k do you mean, she escaped, you imb.ecile?” I linked him back. My eyes flared to that of my demon, and I was about to go on a rampage, erasing everything on my way, but firstly, that idiotic healer. I managed to somewhat rein over and keep my demon at bay. My eyes lost the traces of fire in my irises. I could feel that. Ramaalen and Elantria glanced at me, and, as if they could read my mind, they both said: “Marcellus, are you ok?” My half-sisters knew me so well. We are very attached despite the fact that Noosha is their mother.

“Yes, of course. Maybe I had a few more whiskeys than I should’ve. I just remembered some reports that I have to finish. I need to go.” They all looked at me worryingly, apart from Noosha. She looked at me sceptically. She is not buying it. But I don’t give a s**t. I had to see what was going on with the hidden ace I have in the sleeve - Aralyn. I need to wait for the right time to use it against Noosha. I saw Noosha watching my leaving frame with hatred and contempt. It flickered through her facial features for a second, and then she quickly masked it to the face of a caring stepmother. Master of underground, my ass, my father was a fuc.king fool if he is buying this crap from her. Fuc.king cow. Whatever, I’ll deal with bi.tch later; not her turn yet. Let me take care of that bloody mongrel granddaughter of hers. For the benefit of his own life and welfare, I hope that Naevres has found her by now.

Aralyn’s POV

A shimmering portal closed behind me, and I gasped in wonder. This place looks so serene and comforting. I wish mom were here with me. I missed her. And then, in the middle of the thick and spacious forest that smelled so much like a home, I fell to my knees and started to cry. Oh, f**k me and my tendency for waterfalls.

“Hey, Earthling, what those water floods are about?” Startled, I twitched and scrambled back in fright of the woman before me.

“Trust no one”, Sentaya’s words again.

Whenever I went against those words, I regretted it. “Who are you?”I asked.