Chương 288: 7. Bad Moon Rising.
The demon's lightning-quick movements and immense strength left me in awe. Its appearance, though human-like, betrayed its true nature with its vibrant green skin and menacing red horns protruding from its tangled black hair. With a forceful shove, it sent me sprawling to the side, while the black wizard, sneaking up from behind, used his dark powers to bind me against the wall.
The black wizard, reminiscent of an evil character from Star Wars, towered over us, cloaked in a full-length black robe with a hood that concealed his face. His hood was pulled so low that his features remained hidden, yet his overpowering presence sent shivers down my spine. With a single gesture of his pale, bony hand, he immobilized me, leaving me unable to escape his grasp. Meanwhile, the demon snorted, its gaze passing over me as it continued its path through the kitchen, followed closely by the wizard, who held me captive with an unbreakable spell.
I found myself helplessly stuck against the wall, realizing the unfortunate layout of the house. The proximity of the front door to the kitchen meant that there were no protective measures in place, as Bran, in his not-so-great wisdom, never expected the need for Dresden or Constantine to safeguard his houses. Even Adam's security fortifications were absent, as Bran believed no one would dare to attack the Marrok.
The demon turned its attention to the group, its voice a peculiar blend of hoarse creaks and sharp squeaks, its accent unfamiliar. The pungent stench of sulfur emanated from its presence, assaulting my senses. The men's expressions mirrored their disbelief and helplessness, unable to move a muscle, both the black wizard and the demon keeping them firmly in place. The demon reveled in its newfound power, relishing the sight of the entire pack rendered defenseless before it.
Coming to a halt in front of Bran, the demon spoke, its words laced with a vengeful tone. "You were warned, yet you chose not to believe. You've taken lives, wrought destruction, and brought ruin upon us. Now, it's time to employ harsher measures. You men will be transported to the demon dimension, where time flows differently. A week here will be a year there. Eight weeks. Eight years of relentless battle await you. You shall become our gladiators, with no chance of escape. You will provide us with endless entertainment, as our previous human, werewolf, and vampire captives are running thin, and we crave additional attractions."
The men's expressions ranged from Damon's seething rage to Samuel's uncertainty, and even Bran seemed unable to fathom the possibility of such a fate. Fueled by his fury, Adam shared his intense emotions with me through our mating bond. 'I felt Damon's rage, too. As the demon leisurely strolled through the kitchen, it casually plucked a fried egg from a plate and savored it, relishing the impending chaos it had unleashed.
Before Damon, the demon softly murmured, "Nick sends his regards. He gave upon us this brilliant notion to exploit your abilities because when he refused to be our fighter, we struck a deal."
Damon's eyes ignited with anger; his attempts at restraint were futile as the original had crossed a line and betrayed them. And somehow, Damon knew it had transpired even before that ill-fated holiday. The demon, smug and self-assured, surveyed the men with a sinister gleam.
In the dim glow of the kitchen, its horns appeared almost obsidian, while its green skin bore an uneven, splotchy texture. The demon's heavy boots reverberated on the floor, resonating through the space as it navigated the room. Then, its gaze shifted towards me.
Adorned in a light brown leather jacket, a peculiar scent wafted from the material, leaving me to ponder the origin of this unsettling leather.
"And you, missy. You're a fucking case. You only get eight weeks in a fight club on a boat. You fight every day for 18 hours. That's all there is to it. But let's see if you have any men left when they arrive. See, the gladiators get the women. We've been taking human women and vampires there for decades, and they don't age. They help your men get in shape; they're companions and nurses. Everything. Think of how they spend eight years with other women, forgetting all about you. Women who help them, nurture them, love them. Then you've got what's coming to you. You're all alone, completely alone. They're always there for the fighters, and we've lost quite a few since they started a family there. It can happen to them like that, and they might not even want to return here."
Adam said in my head, "I'm not abandoning you, honey; I can take it. Eight years is no time at all."
I had no time to reply. I looked Damon straight in the eye. I saw his anxiety and heard him send Bertie Higgins to Casablanca, so I felt his love. It was like a warm summer's day; it came into my soul, and although I was absolutely shocked, it helped a little.
I was still glued to my spot and unable to do anything when the demon snapped his fingers and all the men disappeared. Casablanca stopped playing, Damon's love disappeared, and the mating bonds between me and Adam and Damon also disappeared. I took a deep breath, and this hurt badly. I felt the wounds in my soul again, the emptiness, and I knew that eight weeks is a fucking long time in a fight club, on a fucking ship, and it would take everything I had.
The demon looked around for a moment and said, " Well, you must have somewhere to go back to because I don't think you're in the pack anymore. But I know you've got houses and your little soldiers; let's see how you are after a couple of months. Then, when you get to your new life of living without men."
Something about this felt familiar, and then I remembered Wulfe. He, too, was obsessed with getting me away from men. So, was he behind this? I didn't know. What I knew was that this demon was not tasty. This was one of those species that was no good to eat, as the life force or energy my vampire side needed was in their cells, not their blood, and I didn't want to eat demon flesh.
That smelled so fucking bad already. But no. This would just straight-up kill for me. I didn't have to think about the future because I had to concentrate properly. This was going to be a terrible time.
The wizard's vice-like grip held me tightly as the menacing demon stood before me, its piercing gaze fixated on my trembling form. The putrid stench of its breath invaded my nostrils, causing me to recoil in disgust. I yearned for the power to vanquish this satanic creature.
With an eerie closeness, it reached out, its repulsive hands pressing against my body, exerting a crushing force. Its twin-pronged black tongue slithered out, leaving a foul residue as it licked my cheek. Revulsion coursed through me, sending icy shivers cascading down my spine. Drawing nearer, the wizard gestured with a flick of his hand, and in an instant, my neck snapped, plunging me into darkness.
Soon, I found myself confined within a wretched cage, ensnared by enchanted chains that rendered my limbs helpless. The chains were fastened to the back wall, leaving me unable to free my legs. Frustration surged as I attempted to kick the cage, only to be met with vibrant green sparks, revealing the cage's bewitched nature. Escape seemed impossible.
The grim reality of enduring eight torturous weeks loomed ahead, akin to the grueling battles I had experienced in those fucking German fight clubs. Deep down, I feared these upcoming trials would be just as merciless, if not worse. There is no such thing as a good time for me. Was this payback for me to get my medical studies ready for the screening, or was this just fate showing me how it likes to make my life a living hell?
The car pulled into the harbor, and there was a big ship with no name or anything on it. The back door of the van opened, and this fucking licker looked at me like he wanted to fuck me right there. I knew enough about the anatomy of this kind of demon that, luckily; they were completely incompatible with having sex with a human.
Their dicks were balls, and the females had a cup in which the ball was placed, and the female would irritate the male's ball so much that she would take the amount of DNA or whatever it was in their cells. I learned this from one of the fight clubs, the male demon's dick is not sensitive, and he gets nothing out of sex, but these guys like to watch people fuck, and orgasm, and human sex were some things that gave them energy or kicks.
But I didn't care. The wizard went along as more demons came along that unlocked my shackles first from the back of the cage and dragged me on board. I swore to myself that these, every single demon, would die and help guard me when I got to these. The shackles prevented me from accessing my rage, and oh, I was pissed off and harsh, but I felt my rage growing, and I knew I was going to need it and badly.
They forcefully led me through the depths of the ship, causing the vessel to tremble as it set sail. The dimly lit corridor echoed with the heavy footsteps of the men dragging me along the cold steel floor. Bound and unable to move, I was completely at their mercy. Finally, we reached a door.
One man opened it, revealing a windowless room illuminated by harsh fluorescent light. It resembled a storage room, but there were other beings present - humans or creatures, wounded and chained to the walls. Their tired faces lifted as the door swung open, filled with weariness.
The room emanated a potent combination of pain, agony, infection, drugs, fear, terror, and despair. Up to ten victims or fighters were dressed only in stained and torn shirts and trousers. The men forcefully pressed me against the wall, where empty shackles awaited. The wizard touched them, confirming their enchantment, and the men released my chains only to secure me with these magical restraints. With that, the guards departed, leaving me to my fate.
I futilely attempted to free myself—my clothing comprising nothing more than jeans, a tee shirt, and bare feet. However, my immediate concern was not my attire. Time seemed to stretch on as I remained in that pitch-black room. The guards had extinguished the lights, plunging the space into darkness. Silence filled the air, punctuated only by the exhausted breaths of the others.
Realizing their exhaustion rendered them useless, I contemplated my escape. The ship was a confining place, and even if I could swim, blindly navigating the vast ocean was not a risk I would take. Still, I resolved to try. I knew the ship was massive, and if I broke free, I could find a hiding spot until we reached port.
However, my thoughts of escape were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a heavy lock being turned and the creaking of the door. Suddenly, light flooded the room, emanating from the corridor. My eyes swiftly adjusted, revealing the guards who had returned, accompanied by a group of men.
They encircled the prisoners, prodding and poking, seeking reactions from these tormented souls. These individuals were not participants in normal fight clubs, but survivors. How they had endured such torment remained a mystery, yet to be unveiled. The men conversed in hushed tones as they slowly approached me, the center of their attention. What could these even do? They were thin as a rail. They were broken, mentally and physically.
One man came to scrutinize me. This individual appeared to be around 50 years old, with straw-yellow hair that resembled sun-kissed hay, thick puffy lips that seemed slightly swollen, a complexion as pale and pasty as uncooked dough, pale gray watery eyes that lacked vitality, and breath that emitted a repugnant odor reminiscent of ketchup, vinegar, and everything I despised.
He was clad in a poorly tailored suit, visibly cheap, and adorned with a garish red and yellow tie that clashed against his neck. His gaze traveled from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.
One man present remarked, "Well, at least it's okay for now, but what can a small creature like you possibly do?"
Another chimed in, "Since it's not even human, don't underestimate it."
The man who had been observing me raised his hand, and the ensuing commotion subsided.
He declared, "I am Wulfe's brother. My name is Horatio. And you, a mere flea, will bring me substantial wealth. There is a wealthy clientele aboard this ship who relish in placing bets, and I shall provide them with an opportunity. However, each wager entails a unique fight. I entertain suggestions, allowing the bettors to dictate the rules. For instance, let's say someone desires a fight in which you are drugged. I might consent if there is sufficient demand. Oh, my diminutive flea, you would be astounded by the sheer number of individuals who yearn to witness you as the underdog, subjected to various challenges. You shall soon discover. Eighteen hours of relentless combat, a single hour of respite, and the rest is left to your discretion to prepare for the next encounter. Drugs, metals, wounds—anything that anyone desires to inflict upon you. Oh, one more detail. You will solely battle normal demons in this arena. I maintain a policy of abstaining from fear demons, but there may accompany music."
Horatio sneered at me and proclaimed, "My brother commends you, his unicorn, hence my curiosity. And when Nick Michaelson struck a deal with us, we gained The Flea herself. Rest assured, it will be an experience you won't soon forget."
Horatio's speech was slurred, plagued by a noticeable impediment, and although I longed to mock it, I restrained myself. The men directed their gazes towards me, and in an instant, Horatio snapped his fingers, summoning five men pushing carts into the room.
I witnessed many prisoners chained to the walls, raising their eyes, their fear and desperation permeating the air. The men approached the captives.
Horatio locked eyes with me and declared, "I don't expect you to break so easily, but I will extract that defiance from you. This is just the preppers. Like all these others, they're getting you ready for your first day."
He turned around and watched as the preppers went up to the prisoners, jabbing them with syringes or wounding them. One prepper always read from the files what was done to whom, and then the others obeyed. I didn't get anywhere. I was helpless and just saw the preparers slowly coming closer.
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