The hall was an exquisite sight, leaving me breathless. Dazzling lights illuminated the space, casting a mesmerizing glow upon the attention-grabbing wallpapers adorned with intricate designs. Colorful paintings adorned the walls, their vibrant strokes captivating the gazes of the elegant attendees. I observed with a hint of amusement as some ladies studied the artwork intently, engaging in a silent guessing game to determine the artists behind each masterpiece.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, recognizing their blatant displays of sophistication and cultural knowledge as mere showmanship. Art had never been my primary concern, often escaping my notice. Yet, I couldn't deny the class and glamour emanating from the ladies and gentlemen who seamlessly blended with the enchanting ambiance. Glancing down at my own gown, a surge of satisfaction washed over me. I had made the right choice, ensuring that I didn't embarrass myself by standing out in a crowd of such refined elegance.
"Um, Stacey..." I turned around, intending to speak to the mouse.
However, to my surprise, she had vanished without a trace. I scanned the room in search of the dark-haired beauty, but with numerous women sporting similar features and donning black attire, she eluded me. Why had she sought me out in the first place? Confusion briefly clouded my thoughts, but I decided not to dwell on it for long, dismissing the matter from my mind.
Directing my attention forward, I couldn't help but notice Xavier's striking figure. Despite my relatively shorter stature—well, I'm not exactly short, let's chuckle at that notion—I could effortlessly spot him amidst the crowd, thanks to his tall, lean physique that exuded an air of prominence.
Allow me to introduce Xavier Charles—a man recklessly handsome, who had somehow earned the title of America's hottest bachelor, despite his British origins. His sandy brown hair, adorned with a striking silver streak running from the front to the back, remained a constant feature since our awkward teenage years when I first met him. Remarkably, he hadn't aged a day, much like the perpetually youthful Ryan Reynolds.
Engaged in conversation and sporting a captivating smile, Xavier suddenly lifted his gaze, meeting my eyes. His beautiful black orbs narrowed mischievously, and he bestowed upon me his signature half-smile—an expression that never failed to tie knots in my stomach. In a feeble attempt to conceal my reaction, I hastily averted my gaze, only to witness him excusing himself from his company and making his way towards me. Sensing his approach, I clutched my dress and swiftly made my escape, retreating from his captivating presence.
After ensuring that I had successfully evaded him, assuming he had been following me in the first place, I let out a sigh of relief. Seeking solace in a refreshing drink, I reached out to grab one, only to find Xavier's intense black eyes fixed upon me. Startled, I let out a yelp, inadvertently knocking over the entire tray of drinks in the process.
"Sorry!" I blurted out, my words rushing to apologize to the waiter, who, despite the mishap, maintained an understanding smile before excusing himself.
Xavier, standing nearby, couldn't resist making a remark. "Be careful, Alora. It would be a pity if you were to ruin that exquisite dress you're wearing," he drawled, his handsome face breaking into a teasing smile.
I glared at him, fully aware that he was the source of my current distress. "How in the heavens did you suddenly appear here, Xavier?"
His response came with a hint of amusement as he leaned in closer. "Simple, I saw you, and I followed you. But the heavens surely have nothing to do with me," he uttered, his midnight black eyes seemingly flickering to a dark shade of green for a fleeting moment.
Shaking my head, I brushed off the illusion, chalking it up to my imagination playing tricks on me. "What do you want, Xavier?" I posed the question, though deep down, I knew it was futile to try and avoid him in his own hotel and at his own party.
Leaning closer still, he whispered with a tantalizing hint of mystery, "If I told you what I wanted, would you give it to me?"
My body involuntarily shivered, the unease growing within me as I instinctively distanced myself from Xavier. My eyes narrowed with a dark intensity as I countered, "I don't do men."
His expression barely betrayed surprise, if he was even surprised at all. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, reading through my lie effortlessly. You might be wondering how we had come to speak to each other with such familiarity. Well, that's a tale for another day.
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I spat out my words, "If you would excuse me."
Turning to leave, I felt a sudden grip on my hand, and before I could react, Xavier examined my fingers, his face darkening with a sense of urgency.
"Where's your ring!?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Wait!
Why did he sound angry? What does wearing my ring have to do with him?
Yanking my hand away, I found myself caught in his fierce gaze as he grabbed my hand once again, his grip unyielding. He began to drag me out of the room, his determination overriding any resistance I attempted.
"I..." I tried to protest, my voice drowned amidst the noise of the surroundings as he whisked me away like a sacrificial lamb, disregarding my desperate attempts to draw attention from the people around us.
As he pulled me through the bustling hall and toward the elevator, he abruptly halted, his voice urgent. "On second thought, I think you would be safer at my place." With that, he changed direction, leading me towards a nearby staircase that presumably led to the back entrance. My assumption proved correct.
"What is this, Xavier? You're scaring the hell out of me," I choked out, my voice laced with a hint of tears.
He chuckled darkly. "You're about to witness hell if you don't come with me now."
"Stop acting weird. I have the ring in my purse. I figured, from the way you were eyeing it, that it was some kind of treasure."
He came to an abrupt stop, practically yelling at me in frustration. "Why didn't you say something? Put it on now!"
"I wanted to tell you, but you weren't patient enough to listen to me," I retorted, opening my purse in the process. However, what greeted my eyes were foreign items that didn't belong to me. "Hold on a second, this is not mine!"
I turned to see Xavier's pale face.
"Alora..." he began.
"Wait! Stacy! Do you remember that timid black-haired beauty?" I interjected, hoping for some clarity.
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Do you know how many timid black-haired women surrounded me tonight, Alora? We don't have time for this."
"Stacy must have picked up the wrong purse when..." I trailed off, my sentence left unfinished as he dragged me into the cold night, paying no heed to my words. We approached a waiting black sedan, and as he opened the door, a chilling stillness descended upon the air, causing me to shiver involuntarily.
"Xavier..." I called out, but as I glanced at him, I noticed he stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the distance.
When I looked forward, I realized that the driver had his head down, resting on the steering wheel. Why was the driver sleeping in such a weird position? I suddenly felt unease.
Stepping out of the car to investigate the strange circumstances, I followed Xavier's gaze, only to freeze in place. The figure lurking in the shadows emitted a dark aura so eerie, it felt as if the devil himself stood there, ready to claim my soul for hell.
Another shadow materialized, less potent but even more menacing than the former.
And as the second figure stepped into view, I recognized it immediately.
Stacy!
What on Earth was she doing here?
The other shadow took a single deliberate step, and in perfect unison, both shadows advanced towards us. Stacy greeted me with an unsettling smile, causing a shiver to run down my spine.
A sense of impending doom washed over me.
"Gluttonia! I didn't expect to see you out of hell," Xavier said dryly, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. Gluttonia returned his words with a blinding smile. "I see that Father has pardoned you." Xavier said his words dripping with hatred.
"I suppose, judging by how shocked you were a few minutes ago, you definitely haven't heard the news. I have no business with you, Zahel. I am here for the girl," Gluttonia stated, finally turning his gaze toward me, and I instinctively shrunk behind Xavier's protective frame.
"Me?" I shrieked, throwing an accusing look at Xavier. Why did they refer to themselves with such strange names, and why, in God's name, had Gluttonia come for me? I directed the question to no one in particular.
I eyed both of them warily, finding it difficult to believe that Gluttonia could possess such a name, for he appeared far from a glutton. In fact, he was as fit as a noble horse, with a disturbingly perfect face and body. His dark grey eyes held a haunting familiarity that I couldn't place.
My attention shifted to Stacy. "What is the meaning of all this, Stacy? Is this some kind of joke?"
She responded with an evil smile, her voice taking on a tone that didn't sound like hers at all. "Don't call me by that lame name. I am Glade."
My voice laced with boredom, I commented, "Right, another weird name." However, Xavier disregarded me, focusing solely on Gluttonia. "You've got the wrong girl Gluttonia."
"If she's the wrong girl, why, in Father's name, are you with her? We both know you hate humans, especially females. And I can clearly see she's a woman in many different ways," Gluttonia retorted, his voice filled with disdain.
Gluttonia's gaze roamed over me once again, this time with even more intensity. "But I don't understand why a human would have the ring of Artemis on her finger," he said, his eyes fixed on the me.
Artemis ring? What the heck is going on, one thing I know for sure is that the mouse standing across from me, stole it when she swapped out my purse with someone else's. When that happened, I do not know.
Amidst my confusion, I scanned my surroundings, half-expecting hidden cameras or pranksters to reveal themselves. However, no such revelation occurred. Instead, Xavier's voice broke the silence.
"She's just a random girl, one of my many playthings. So shut your fucking mouth and get yourself and this bullshit eyesore out of my sight," he sneered, referring to Stacy as the eyesore.
Gluttonia's eyes darkened, and I could swear I saw his once-grey eyes transform into a fiery red. A shiver ran down my spine.
Just as I was about to question Stacy about the fate of my ring, she spoke up.
"It was stupid of you to keep your ring in your bag. It made it easier for me to steal. You see, no demon can touch that ring or its bearer when the ring is on them, but you made it easy. All I had to do was exchange the bags and still have the ring without getting burned," Stacy explained, her voice dripping with malice and proudness.
"What did you do with it, Glade?" Xavier demanded through clenched teeth.
Stacy let out an evil laugh. "I threw it into the ocean, far away from here. I don't want any damn tracker on me, and if she truly is our girl and not some unfortunate human... I don't need her stupid sisters showing up to ruin my plans for this bitch here. I'm going to enjoy torturing her. What your family did to our kind, you'll pay for it a hundredfold."
"You won't lay a finger on her! I swear I'll peel off your skin and dry it out as a message to others," Xavier threatened, his grip on me tightening. Stacy growled in response, shrinking back in fear.
Gluttonia chuckled, seemingly amused by the unfolding drama. "The fact that you're so keen on protecting this human only confirms my suspicions. Looking at her closely, she looks like Amadora, your Amazonian wench."
Xavier's hold on me tightened further, and I sensed Gluttonia's words were pushing him to his limits. His eyes turned red, signifying anger, danger, and a potential outburst of violence.
Artemis, demons, Amazons, sisters—my mind swirled with the overwhelming influx of new information, threatening to drive me to the brink of madness.
Gluttonia who was across from me suddenly flashed before me, his warm and large hand caressing my face. "No offense, human. I don't always enjoy running errands like this, but you see, no one can say no to my father. I promise to treat you well until we figure out who got the wrong person and you are just unfortunate enough to have the same face as my sworn enemy."
Before I could respond, he added, "Ah, before I forget, I need to show you something. I hate to do it, but it's customary. I hope you can forgive me."
As if a twisted artist were playing with reality itself, a horrifying transformation took hold of Gluttonia. His once handsome face contorted and melted away like wax under a scorching flame. The sight was an abomination, a grotesque dance of horror unfolding before my eyes. Panic surged within me, a torrent of terror flooding my veins, as I beheld the nightmarish spectacle.
To my disbelief and utter dread, Gluttonia's body underwent a grotesque metamorphosis. From his back, limbs began to sprout, one after another, multiplying like a grotesque hydra. The appendages twisted and contorted, elongating and dividing until he was surrounded by an ominous halo of eight nightmarish hands. Each hand possessed jagged claws, exuding an aura of malevolence that chilled me to the core.
Words failed me as I stood rooted to the spot, my voice lost in a scream that refused to escape my paralyzed throat. The world around me blurred, colors merging into a surreal nightmare. This was beyond comprehension, beyond the realm of nightmares. It was a waking horror, a sinister revelation of the unimaginable.
In the face of this unearthly abomination, time seemed to halt, stretching each second into an eternity. The air grew thick with a suffocating aura of darkness and despair, as if the very essence of evil had taken physical form before me. I could feel its presence, an invisible force seeping into my very soul, threatening to consume me.
My mind screamed for escape, for release from the clutches of this living nightmare. But as I stood there, frozen in terror, I knew deep down that this was only the beginning. The true depths of horror and suffering were yet to be revealed, and I had been unwittingly thrust into a macabre dance with destiny.