Chapitre 89: 9. Sometimes.
Freya Michaelson gazed at the vampires standing before her, unimpressed for now. Their appearance did little to sway her, despite the tall vampire with black hair, an ugly scar marring his face, and burn marks that marred his features. His voice, low and grumbly, carried a dangerous undertone, and his soulless red eyes gave her chills. Freya despised this breed of vampires, their presence leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.
"We can have the facility up and running in just a few weeks," the vampire spoke in a disinterested tone. "It will be a grand operation, with a substantial payday and plenty of personal grudges to settle."
Drusilla, sitting beside Spike in her delicate lace dress, was eager to involve Freya in their scheme. She envisioned a spell that would bind them all, creating offspring to be sold like commodities. Her voice was weak and whiny as she spoke, trying to convince Freya of their shared power.
"But Freya, I can assist you in casting the spell," Drusilla pleaded. "Together, we can ensure their downfall and revel in the pleasure of ten Salvatores showing you their prowess as lovers. And think of all the babies those females will produce."
Freya regarded the wannabe witch with disdain. She saw through Drusilla's feeble attempts, using her pheromone-based potions to manipulate her victims. There was no use for such weakness in her plans.
"I will consider joining this endeavor if I see fit," Freya replied, her voice laced with determination. "But we must have all the parameters of the spell prepared beforehand."
Spike chimed in confidently, assuring Freya, "We've got it covered, love. You don't need to worry your pretty little head about it."
Cole, eager for revenge, declared his allegiance. "Count me in. I want them trapped in that spell for as long as possible. I want to ravage every damn female from that pack, especially Springcove, as she's known now. She must be a tight fuck."
The room fell silent, the air heavy with anticipation and malice, as their sinister plan began to take shape.
Rebecca rolled her eyes, her exasperation evident in the way her gaze shifted. Men, men. She wanted not so much revenge but the sex holiday that this spell promised. She was glad that Nick and Elias were ticks, little vampire batlike creatures. Life was so much more enjoyable when they weren't around. But the spell, oh, the spell. It held the promise of transporting the whole pack into a more or less alternative reality. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of anticipation and desire. She imagined herself surrounded by all ten Salvatores, their sons, and those two others, indulging in carnal pleasures.
"That sounds pretty good," she mused in her mind, a smirk playing on her lips.
She couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the thought of Mimi being part of this escapade. But she quickly brushed it aside, not wanting too many emotions to interfere with her own pleasures. Besides, maybe that girl needed some cock once in a while, too. It might even do her some good.
As they plotted and schemed, discussing what they wanted the spell to entail, and what changes it would bring, each member had their own motives, a twisted allegiance driven by greed, pure evil, and bloodlust. Morality was foreign to them. Their selfish desires were the only thing that mattered.
It took time and negotiations for Angelus, Spike, and Drusilla to convince Freya to craft the spell. They started to meticulously plan out its components, specific items that were essential. Angelus had managed to obtain samples from Mimi Springcove, from the Krycheck facility. He had witnessed her impressive abilities, what it came to rip everyone apart with her bare hands, but he had secured those samples, as they would be needed to anchor the spell in her powers. It wouldn't drain her completely, as her powers were constantly growing, leaving her with plenty to spare.
Rebecca, with no personal grudges, simply sought her own pleasure. Freya, on the other hand, had her own agenda of revenge, infusing her own twist into the spell. Angelus, ever the insatiable one, desired to father many offspring, females who would serve as breeding machines. Cole, driven by lust, wanted to indulge in the pleasures of every woman he encountered. Spike, always seeking excitement, craved fun, blood, and sex. And Drusilla, the vampire bitch, wanted men to herself, but not too rough. She intended to be in charge, asserting her dominance.
Drusilla's annoying voice pierced the air as she declared, "I want women not to enjoy it, to not experience too much pleasure."
Freya, maintaining her composure, responded in a controlled voice, "This will be one hellish strong spell, but I have my limits. So back the hell off with your bizarre ideas. It takes time for me to get it right."
Drusilla, with her black hair and round face, resembled the quintessential vampire woman. Her heavy makeup accentuated her features, and her annoyingly childish voice grated on the ears. Her faded grey eyes, usually red as blood, emitted an unmistakable aura. A scent of sex and rotten fruit lingered around her, revealing her dark witch side and the essence of blood. Being a soulless vampire, she didn't emit the typical smell of burning things. Instead, she exuded the stench of old blood and death, potent enough for even humans to detect, making them wary of her presence.
It was frustrating for her to hunt as humans escaped, never approaching her, while other types of vampires effortlessly captured their prey without fear. Drusilla often found this situation annoying, as it was difficult to find decent prey. She longed for a healthy, vital human, rather than some smelly homeless guy.
Freya, on the other hand, was tall, blonde, and even curvier than Rebecca. Her narrow face featured small green eyes, a long nose, and a thin mouth. A scent of decay surrounded her, indicating her association with black magic and the misery she had brought upon many, including Nick. Freya had played a role in the transformation of Nick's daughter, Hope, into a black witch. She tried to convince him that their mother's spirit had influenced her actions, but Nick was skeptical.
Cole, shorter than his brothers and lacking their charm, almost resembled a human. However, after his tumultuous love affair with his witch wife went awry, he remembered his true nature as a Michaelson vampire, where pleasure meant everything. He took pleasure in seducing women, indulging in them, and ultimately draining them, leaving a trail of victims in his wake. Nick eventually daggered him for this behavior, as there was no need to attract unnecessary attention.
But now, with Nick and Elias out of the picture, Cole was ready to embrace his life once again. Since Salvatore was occupied with his own affairs and not meddling, Cole enjoyed several years of a pleasant existence. However, a bothersome flea began to interfere, revealing his true nature to humans and warning them away from him. Soon, he noticed his prey disappearing. Consumed by revenge, he envisioned the perfect scenario of dominating and ravaging that tight package, repeatedly draining her, staining the sheets, and marking her internally as his own, regardless of Salvatore's intentions.
Rebecca felt a deep sense of loneliness, reminiscing about the good old times when Damon used to play with her, teasing her here and there. But it had been a while since they had any interaction, ever since Mariella entered the picture. Rebecca had never spoken to Mariella, but she had seen her and knew she was the perfect woman for Damon. Perhaps she was, but now Rebecca yearned for her own pleasure. She was tired of watching others have fun while she was left out. In a way, she felt childish.
Her life had been far from easy, and she had become a lonely little girl who had lost touch with her humanity a long time ago. What remained of it was often twisted by jealousy and pettiness.
Angelus was seething with anger. That damn woman had scarred him even more, a constant thorn in his flesh. She had pursued him relentlessly with her organization, but now it was his time for revenge. He had broken her mind before, but somehow she had managed to heal. It was frustrating at times, but having a worthy opponent made the chase so much more exhilarating. He reveled in the hunt. This time, that little bitch would not only make him a fortune, but he might also have the pleasure of taking her himself.
Once, he had a soul. But the black witches had sucked it out of him during their ritual, turning him into a monster who delighted in killing in the most sadistic ways imaginable. He took pleasure in abusing his victims and subjecting them to his twisted experiments. Blood wasn't his main desire; it was the pain of his victims that fueled him. He longed for this facility to have a well-equipped laboratory where he could carry out his depraved experiments on countless victims, including that little freak. He had a few sinister experiments in mind specifically for her.
Spike was an opportunist. As a soulless vampire, he was not as physically strong as others, but that didn't matter to him anymore. Centuries of killing and committing unspeakable atrocities had erased his human memories. He yearned for an easy way out, something wicked that would serve his purposes. It had to be something useful to him, as he wasn't driven solely by money. He had no home, no place to call his own. He would live in the houses of his victims when he pleased, or roam the streets like vampires do, never needing to sleep. He could even withstand the sunlight.
Freya focused intently on crafting the intricate spell, her delicate fingers dancing over the ancient runes. It would take weeks, perhaps even longer, to complete. In the meantime, they needed to prepare the facility to house the women they planned to ensnare. The air was heavy with anticipation as they worked tirelessly, ensuring everything was in place for their nefarious scheme.
As Freya wove the spell, she could feel the energy pulsating through her veins. It was a dangerous enchantment, one that would transform the facility into a colossal trap. Once the Salvatore pack entered, their lives would be forever altered, trapped within the walls. They would witness the true nature of what awaited them, unable to escape.
However, amidst the complexity and ruthlessness of the spell, Freya had included an unlikely backdoor. Love, true and pure, would be the key to breaking the enchantment. It was a delicate balance, for if someone were to discover their truest love, the spell would crumble. But both parties would have to find each other, a task that would surely take an eternity.
Freya marveled at her creation, a true masterpiece of sorcery. Layer upon layer of intricate spells had been carefully woven together, ensuring that this new reality would be seamless and indistinguishable from the world outside. No one would suspect a thing, not even the absence of true love, not after what they had done to those innocent females.
When Freya had asked how they would lure the Salvatores in, Rebecca had a cunning plan. The entire pack was part of the fleas, with arrogance and pride. They worked with Mimi nowadays.
Angelus smirked, his voice dripping with confidence as he explained, "I will be the bait. She will come after me, but she has her protectors, Wulfe and the others. And when I trap that damn teen, I will become the ultimate prize. She will pursue me relentlessly, and the rest of them will come to her aid."
Freya nodded, content with the plan. Mimi Springcove was renowned for her lack of restraint when it came to certain prey, like Sark or Krycheck. But Angelus was just as enticing, a perfect lure for their trap. It would work flawlessly, and the rewards would be immense. Hundreds of females impregnated with the Salvatore bloodline would bring them a fortune beyond their wildest dreams. Not to mention the offspring of the pack members, their pregnancies swift and inevitable.
Everything was falling into place. Their evil plan would unfold perfectly, leaving no room for error.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone