"Illusion is the dust the devil throws in the eyes of the foolish."
— Minna Antrim
Theron turned. "Quiet. Walk on your toes," he whispered. Shushing me—as we both strode towards the basement.
One only Lucian and now Theron knew of, one where I consumed the vampire blood—situated on the exact opposite side of the Eloven's statue, right where its shadow landed after dusk.
Snow crunched as we brushed it aside—below it, the sand and then finally—the door.
Theron slid open the door.
"Last time, I had to carry your limp, bloodied body out of here. And close this damned thing all by myself," he muttered, stepping aside to let me through. "Don't expect me to do it again."
We walked down the stairs.
The lower we reached, the colder it felt. Freezing, colder than outside—colder than snow. Yet, without snow. The basement was covered with sand—and sand covered with blood.
Faint, metallic, bloody smell still lingered in the room. I gulped, watching my own blood spread across the basement. My steps faltered.
"Still here," Theron commented. "Your blood. I suppose it hasn't crystallized because you bled while you were still human."
The scent overwhelmed me, stronger than anything I had ever felt.
Thick red patches, absorbed in grains of sand stirred something inside me.
"It's finally kicking in" Asta popped out, "understandable, considering you haven't consumed blood from days." floating.
"What… is this?" I gasped, stunned by the raw hunger bubbling within me. "I… want to consume it."
"You're thirsty for blood and this smell is only increasing your appetite."
"Disgusting," I trembled.
The realization was unbearable. Was I craving my own blood?
Theron turned, narrowing his eyes, "Lucian, what the hell are you doing?"
I could barely think—let alone answer him.
He yelled, "Dammit, I don't like that look on your face at all, you mad cultist!"
I didn't realize it at first, but I was on all fours, my fingers clawing at the sand, inches from devouring it. Devouring my own spilled blood.
"B-blood…" I drooled, close to shoving my mouth inside the moist, bloody, sand.
"Pathetic." Theron spat, disgusted. "What the hell are you doing?"
"No," my body shook, and voice broke. "No, I would never—"
A hard boot slammed into my ribs, shoving me back.
"Get a grip!" Theron shouted, pulling me to my feet like I weighed nothing.
He sneered. "You look like a fucking dog right now!"
"B-blood…" my eyes fixated on the sand.
"SNAP OUT OF IT!" Theron yelled. Shaking me violently.
My vision wavered, shifting—colors faded to shades of red, blue, and black. Everything around me felt cold, lifeless—everything except Theron.
"You're experiencing vampire vision now," Asta popped out. "Like a true predator, and your only prey stands in front of you HAHAHA!"
I lunged towards Theron—on instinct.
He stumbled back, on guard—casting a dark red shield, enveloping his whole body.
"You mad cultist," Theron glared. "Don't you dare come closer!"
"It's okay," a voice whispered in my mind. "It doesn't matter if he dies. He's only a character, he's only a prey."
"Theron… come here."
"YOUR EYES!" Theron gasped, retreating further. "YOUR EYES HAVE TURNED COMPLETELY RED!"
"Give yourself to me," I said, advancing as his shield crackled under my presence. He looked delicious.
Theron gritted his teeth. "You leave me no choice."
I flutter my wings open, on guard.
In a split second—his demeanor changed, the deep red aura now black as a void. His eyes lost the light—and soon blood came pouring out of his hand.
"BLOOD!" I lunged, only to be thrown back by the shield.
"You filthy dog!"
His presence overwhelmed me, as I let out a blood curdling scream—desperate.
He looked up, glaring me with a grin as his blood formed a massive magic circle.
One that consumed almost the entire basement, including the roof—like a wildfire.
Reality fractured. The environment shattered into pieces, falling like shards of broken glass. Bending the fabric of reality itself.
In an instant, we were no longer in the basement.
His lips moved, chanting—and I smelt it. The very appetizing metallic scent again,
An endless deep ocean of blood drowned me, one with no shore—it swallowed me whole.
"You're nothing but a beast," Theron's voice echoed, "So I'll treat you like one."
My wailed my hands, desperately reaching for air—but it didn't exist. The ocean only pulled me deeper, getting darker by the second.
I blinked.
And found myself seated at a dining table—not just any, one where dad and I ate everyday.
"Dad…?"
His warm eyes slid me a plate, "Here, it's the last piece."
"I'm… back? I was Lucian moments ago. Did I finally return…?" My eyes teared up, the joy clouded my judgement.
"Eat."
"Y-yes dad. Of course."
As I poked the fork, the cake shifted—morphed.
Into a pale, lifeless bare bloody body of a woman—on the floor. Seated upon her, my hands held the knife.
"Here's your blood." A blood curdling whisper, broke the silence—my heart beat quick, everything around me turned to cold.
"Stab her."
The words pierced at my mind.
"Stab her"
Without hesitation—I plunged the knife inside her flesh.
"Stab her"
The blood spread on the marble floor.
"Stab her, how you did before."
My hands wavered. "How… I did before?" A chill went through my spine, "I… never did this before."
Each stab brought her to life. Her eyes opened, her mouth screamed—but my hands didn't stop.
"Shut up"
I pulled her hair and crushed it on the floor—until her brain oozed out.
"Dante…" Her hands quivered, reaching my face, eventually they fell to the ground.
"Blood…" my mind growled as I dig my hands inside her body—pulling out the blood,
until…
it was cake again.
But we weren't inside my home—instead, a clinic.
"YOUR SON IS INSANE, MR. @#$%^&''
"Did he say my dad's name? Why can't I hear it?" Confused, after hearing a madman yell.
"Wait… what is dad's name?" My stomach churned, I had forgotten my dad's name.
"I AM NOT INSANE." I stood up, dropping the chair. He was a doctor.
"Relax Dante, do not prove him right." Dad pushed me down, as he stood towering me.
"I'm…a kid?" My body that of a child.
"Dad… I'm not crazy dad…"
"Yes you are…!" The doctor slammed his hand on the table, "No sane ten year old kills his own mother!"
"I—I killed my mother? I did not, I never saw her in my entire existence." I shouted, glaring.
"You stabbed her till her screams faded away."
"Dad? What?"
Nauseating, this was nauseating.
"Dad…I…never even met my mother." I said, shaking—but soon my sanity I had been holding on to, left me.
"I didn't…she was…the one who was in the way dad—now we're free dad."
That's right, we were free now. She was no more—I never liked her.
"Your son suffers from dissociative amnesia and confabulation, he conveniently forgets the trauma and replaces it with fabricated memories. Its a coping mechanism."
"What?" I said, but nobody heard me—as if I wasn't there.
"Its best you do not mention…his mother for as long as until he himself remembers her."
"HEY! I stood up, I DID NOT KILL MY MOTHER." My body burning, as if bugs crawling inside my veins.
"Yeah?" Doctor grinned, entering my reality. His face cold—scary. "Like I said, you're insane."
"I—I killed her…y-yes, NO I DIDN'T! WHY WOULD I DO THAT?" I screamed, dropping things off the table, "DAD DO YOU HEAR HIM?"
"Stop…just…get out of my sight." He looked away, not meeting my eyes. But my whole world broke—how could he say that?
His voice echoed, until it replaced a different voice.
"Hey, could I sit beside you? It's my first day in class."
"The voice…" I turned to the side, "Theo?"
This…was school.
"How'd you know my name?" he asked
I remained seated, as class disappeared. Leaving us alone, under the setting sunlight from the window.
"A lot of time has passed." He said, not taking the eyes off of his book.
"It has, its almost evening." I muttered.
"No Dante—five years have passed, no body likes me anymore—and its all because of…you."
I flinched, "what?"
"Why did you destroy me Dante?"
"I didn't—"
"You stole my everything, while you always had more than me Dante."
"SHUT UP!" I banged my fists on the table, "YOU'RE LYING, YOU'RE ALL LYING."
"and…" I paused, "You look exactly like him." I said.
"Hm? Who, Dante? Who do I look like, Dante?" His voice drifting into maddness.
"Him…Theron." I looked away.
"No, he looks like me, after all you made him after me."
"HUH? SHUT UP—I NEVER LIKED YOU! I NEVER DID THAT." I gripped his collar.
"You made him after me, but not like me. You made him how you saw me—but that was never me."
Just then,
A voice of a girl cracked, from behind—in the empty classroom.
"I killed myself Dante, all because of you."
"Luna…? Her neck bruised, as if it had been clenched by a rope minutes ago.
"I…didn't do that…I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" I screamed, until my ears couldn't keep up with my own voice.
"I DID NOT KILL MOTHER, NOT HER, NOT YOU, NOBODY!" My veins tore, eyes blurred.
Theo, turned into a different man, "Do you desire freedom?"
"Yes…" my vision blurred. But it was Astaroth—I could tell from the sound.
"These are your own memories Lucian…or should I say Dante." His voice calm, almost like a different person.
"You would be set free, give me your soul Dante—you would only then escape this cycle, this misery."
"My soul…? But I will…die."
"I will live on in your body, allow me Dante. Isn't death what you always desired Dante?"
That's right, all I wanted was to die to begin with. Returning to earth was always just a hope I gave myself—convincing myself it'll come true.
"SNAP OUT OF IT LUCIAN."
Just then, a voice shattered the scene.