AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Three, the corner of my mouth tips up wickedly with a twitch.
When the first puff leaves my lungs and touches the air in a freezing kiss, my eyes snap open. Twin orbs of swirling midnight holding a promising threat latch onto the ghoul who shifts on its feet.
I let the coldness of my power radiate outward in a tidal wave, drowning the air with its weight. The freezing touch to my skin drops even more, almost as if one touch will shatter me. My breath plumes in front of my face like a signal of death. A sign that life will never exist here.
The ghoul’s enlarged mouth falls open, revealing its narrow, pointed teeth. It inches backward towards Whiro, hoping his master will step in. But my father remains a statue.
The creature’s red eyes match those of the Scavengers. Like glowing balls of fire and they flare from the force of my power unleashing around us. Its body tenses and eyes widen the moment black tendrils band around me. Just like its master’s.
I should blast a hole through its chest, disintegrating its heart to nothing. But I’d much prefer disgracing it. Proving how weak it is. A way to alert the rest of the ghouls that I, too, will be their master. That thought alone blooms the smallest hint of a thrill within; a twisted high of domination, no matter how sick it is.
With a swipe of my hand, a second, stronger wave of power crashes into the ghoul’s bony frame. Its bald head slams into the dark stone we stand on as I force my will upon it, commanding my power to pull its lanky arms in front of it to along the sides of its pointed ears. To bow for me.
A faint grinding sound snarls through its mangled open nose, even as its body trembles before me. But before it gets a chance to fill the air with its protest, I wrap a silencing shadow around its throat. Muting its feeble retort that I know will come next.
I may not be the God of Darkness, but I am his fucking daughter. Therefore, the Goddess of Darkness. These creatures will fear me, serve me, and fucking bow to me.
I keep my feet planted and my features placid as my eyes bear down on the restrained ghoul. Reveling in the strength of my power forcing it into submission. But just as quickly, my interest begins to evaporate as a deep huff of air expels from my nose at how pathetically easy that was.
This is just one of the many ghouls dwelling in Gehendra. I’ve been kept high in the tower with the promise of freedom if I fulfill each task. When I’m ordered down from my room is the only time I cross paths with these creatures as they wander about.
This is a way for Whiro to see my level of strength, but most of all, assess me to see if the light power buried inside from my mother will spring forth. He’s been pleased to see no sign of it, hence why this is the longest I’ve been allowed out of the tower. Lifting my hand, my eyes fall to my wrist donning a bracelet of shadows. A band of his power that still keeps me under Whiro’s supervision.
Re-centering my thoughts, I force my mind back to the present. To showing the ghouls that I’m not weak. That I am the player who decides whether these pawns will live or die. A new master to hold the strings of their souls.
I weave a strain of power to grip its jutted chin, lifting it slightly off the ground just enough to force its eyes to connect with mine. “Perhaps you would prefer to die alongside this Fae? It would mean no difference to me.”
The coldness of my voice sounds distant to my ears as it causes a more noticeable tremble to rack through its body. I continue to refuse it air by squeezing the collar of my shadow around its throat, watching how its eyes begin to look just like the Fae’s. Begging. Pleading with me to not take its life. Weak. Because if these creatures fear death, then they would do anything if it meant staying alive. I allow another moment to pass before I call the whispers of my power back to me, letting it disintegrate between us.
Whiro’s gaze still never leaves me when I glance up at him. A slight light glints in his corvine eyes, but he speaks before I can figure out what he’s thinking. “Why not kill it?”
Such a simple question, and yet…I can tell there is another test underlying his words. Poisonous roots are snaked around each syllable that will bury me six feet under if I say the wrong things. Yet, the numbness of this power, the unfeeling nature of it has me blankly staring at him. Because the outcome of my fate means nothing to me.
I give a half-shrug as he waits for my answer. “It’s one of your ghouls, who is now one of mine. I’d rather not kill it when we are on the same side. It would be better to instill fear in it, to make it known that each breath it takes from here on out will be because I allowed such a thing. To me, that is far more thrilling than death. Don’t you think?”
His charcoal hands rub against the sharp features on his face as his mind seems to turn over my words. Still, he never removes his twin black pits of death from mine. Most would feel fear, maybe shift on their feet, or rub their hands together to be the target of the God of Darkness’s gaze. Yet, I remain unnaturally still with no surges of chills or tremors. Only recognition and…a deep-seated desire to take his power like he dared to steal mine before all of this. Only, he doesn’t know that.
Aside from the tasks he’s given, I’ve made one of my own. To study him, and learn how his mind works, knowing that once my power grows to the level he wishes, my death will soon follow as he reclaims this power. For now, the only thing I can do is to not show the full extent of my power I can feel coursing through my veins, only offering enough to prove it's growing with every task.
A single dip of his chin is the only confirmation I get for passing whatever challenge he secretly created. “You continue to surprise me, Emmerelda.”
Not even a twitch of a finger is given from me at his words. I let them fade away as I ignore the presence of the ghoul still laying folded on the ground. I face the Fae whose flesh has sunken more under his eyes, darkening like deep craters. His head sways in an attempt to keep his torso upright.
Without looking back at my father, I keep my voice flat as I take a single step towards the male. “May I?”
“He’s all yours.”
The Fae opens his mouth, but all that escapes his throat is a rough rasp. “No last words?” I taunt in a voice that is less like me and more demonic, as though I’m embodying Death itself. Another straggled rasp coughs up his throat. He’s so weak he can’t speak.
The energy coursing through my blood grows hungry, getting increasingly colder in anticipation. I raise my hands up in front of me, watching how the black veins swell within me. I don’t have to reach far within to grab hold of this power; it’s already there on the surface, waiting for me. It reacts to my call as I command it to do what it desires. To take. To deliver death.
Wisps of darkness race out of my hands, slamming into the Fae’s chest as I wield it to funnel into his body and wrap around the male’s heart. His face morphs with widened eyes and his mouth falls open with a silent gasp. The corner of my eyes lift, relishing in the excitement of fulfilling my power’s wants. The beat of his heart grows weaker in my shadowy grasp as I tighten my hold on it. The choice of his life in the palm of my phantom hand.
The icy touch of my power quickly freezes his pulsing heart until it stops. Then, in one swift second, I squeeze. The organ holding his life ceases to exist, shattering in his chest as I watch his body fall back, his knees folding with him. I flex my hand. The sensation of his heart bursting lingers on my skin as if it was my hand in his chest. Yet the skin on my palm is clean, free of blood.
Does it make me a villain to take a life so easily? To take pleasure in the arctic drug that flows through my veins? To wish that my hand was dripping with his life?
I don’t waste time on the thoughts as I swipe my hand out, letting my practiced power brush against his lifeless form. It drives him back to the edge of the cliff, making him topple over and fall into the black fog that covers the endless drop.
