literature

Unwanted Visitor

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The third visitor, oh how Zelgadoss waited for him. He knew exactly who he was, Dimonte. He had heard rumors about his powers. Provided that they're just frightened speculations of a broken people, Dimonte still proved to be formidable foe.

He had seen the damages that he brought. Perhaps not in the over abundance that Hellians had previously wrought, but really what could compare to the kingdom of pain?

Oh, but oh how they tried, that little trio. They tried so damned hard to usurp the beauty that these lands held. He was an enemy from the very beginning of their reign, a blue blood of a shattered court.

~

The lovely duo, Anise and Amori didn't fail to remind him of that. The stench of their blood still hung in that hallway; no matter how many times he had tried to purge it out.

He knew that they were not to be defeated so easily, and that they harbored much ill will against him. Perhaps, they were biding their time for another attack.

~

"Will more of them come?" The prince asked in a wavering voice. There was little improvement to the poor kitsune after the failed attacks. If anything, in some ways, he was worse. Perhaps it had something to do with the transfusion of blood he had to give him.

The kitsune blood never did react well to the vampiric blood, but he had rather not lose him again...

When before, he was just starting to regain some of that old personality, now he became more reclusive. Weaker to the point of him being bed ridden again. He still held onto that hollow look...

~

Something was coming, he could feel it. The fear, the pathetic fear seized his body, mind and very soul. His very being shuddered and shivered with this knowledge. He could feel it ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick, away...


He forgot how to breathe. How to think on nothing but terror. The stench of blood clung to his sensory memories; as if his very form was dripping with it. At the very least, his hands. He held his hands up to his neck, expecting to feel warm stickiness. He only found icy flesh...

Startled, he tightly clenched his eyes closed, lips moving in a silent prayer. No, No...Don't come. No, no...

The silent guardian stood watch, but how long will that last? He had to feed sometime...He could see the hunger pilfering off him in waves...

~
~

Footsteps, heavy against the marble. He could hear every step, hear the breaths. There was no heartbeat to echo through his ears, only the thunderous gallop of his own.

There was something different...The jingling of jewelry, a hum. He recognized the old melody. The beast was never so cheerful.

So who was this? For a moment, his guard slipped...and he heard laughter. It was musical, almost like the song of a bird. He looked up from his place on the ground.

He had just realized it was the ground, due to the vantage point. His first gaze was at a pair of boots. Slowly, he rose up, his limbs seemingly heavy. Weak....so cold.

This being was certainly not Lucifer. Though his skin was that same kind of pale. That’s where the similarities stopped. This being's hair was colorless, a mane with jewels, feathers, and beads laced throughout. Oh how they glistened... He had finely sculpted features, far more masculine than his own androgynous ones. His frame was larger than this too, both in height and size. Sculpted into perfection...


The kohl smeared around his eyes set a perfect contrast to the vivid red pink of the irises. He was like that vampire. The one that tried to kill him, the so called 'Lady'.

He knew the court was long ago, but wait. HIs mind clutched at scattered fragments of memories.

Blaze, what happened between then and present? He let out a startled grasp, hands going for his head. What happened? Why this being here? Who was he?

What is all this? Where was Zelgadoss? He felt his weak body trembling, legs threatening to give out. "I don't recall you." he managed to sputter out, head shaking. How he tried to banish those memories. They couldn't help with what's now...

"Kitsune prince, Lucifer's whore." The visitor began.

"No..." Jubei uttered in response.

"No?" The being started towards him, a gleam in those eyes.

"You're not welcome here." He managed to sputter out. He could hear how weak his voice was. It left him writhing with self loathing. He was of a fine upbringing, a royal, not a whore.

These beings had no idea the torment he endured. He was sure they couldn't even fathom-even if he attempted to tell. Of course, he hadn't even attempted...

He had no intention-

There was breath on his neck. Icy, overflowing with the scent of old blood. "Where is your mind?" The voice was nothing like Lucifer's. It was melodious, almost cheerful. He felt fingers, running down his back. Gloved, but he could feel the chill through the material. Zelgadoss never felt this cold.

His entire body seized. Instinctively, his hands were searching for a weapon. If he moved his gaze, he could see one right at his side. He grabbed with shaking hands. He managed to get it out of his sheath, if only barely.

"Where is Zelgadoss?" he asked, thrusting it against the visitor's torso.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?" Undeterred , the stranger merely smiled.  Jubei growled, pushing the blade further, hoping to incite some damage.

"Oh come on now." That voice....The world shifted, somehow, and all he saw was stars. It had been far too long. Pain. He was feeling pain.


Pain that wasn't phantom. Pain that wasn't created by his own hands.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to scream. He was taught that those screams just gave satisfaction to the tormentor. He did what he did in Hell- he clenched his jaw until he felt it almost cracking

"The whole of this place is just as tainted as you are, little prince." Was breathed into his ear. He struggled against the accusatory faux aristocrat. Tainted? That was far from the truth. He was a tormented pawn, perhaps, but still a prince.

A prince of a lost time.... "You're not even pure kitsune. You're just a filthy mutt." All of the Makai knew that...They did before the Hellian siege.  Why was this being snarling dated information? Why did he let himself lay there a ragdoll awaiting injury?


That sword blinded him; it was being raised. Where next? Despite himself, he clenched his eyes closed.


~

That is, until he felt the blade pierce his chest. His eyes shot open, a strangled grasp expelling forth. His entire form thrusted forth in a graceless spasm.

He knew even with that heavy, woozy feeling descending upon him what he was after...His heart.  He reached his hands up, trying to shove away this faux lord. He couldn't, he hadn't the strength...

Still the sword drove in deeper. "An impure heart is what I'm after. You should have been heralded. You should have never escaped...”

This fool really liked the sound of his own voice....

~

There was something else in the room, he could feel it. Something heavy and black. Not quite malicious, but something inherently dangerous.

The being's other hand went for his throat, silencing anything he may have had snarled. He could only to gasp for breath from his crushed windpipe.  Just as he could try to ignore the pooling blood underneath him.

He saw a shadow creeping in the corner of his eyes. It was advancing....It was a beast, a big panther with the queerest blue eyes. Its face before it was pounced was the last thing he saw before he succumbed to darkness.
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