"Argh, damn it, what the hell went wrong?" she screamed, her anguished voice reverberating through the cavern, heavy with frustration and despair. Her legs gave way, and she crumpled to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. The blindfold slipped slightly, streaks of deep crimson trailing down her pale, flawless face.
From his concealed vantage point, Emperal watched in silence, his crimson eyes glinting with a mixture of predatory amusement and something far more sinister. His lips curled into a wicked grin, the sharp curve of his mouth betraying his twisted sense of delight at her collapse.
"What a fascinating little mess you are," he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent, laced with a lascivious undertone that darkened the air around him.
His gaze lingered on her, devouring every detail like a wolf savoring the sight of vulnerable prey. Her silver hair fanned out across the ground like molten moonlight, the light catching in its silken strands. Her chest rose and fell faintly, each shallow breath evidence of her fragile state. The faint hum of the power that had enveloped her moments ago still clung to her form, like embers of a dying fire.
"Such beauty... wasted on what, an egg?" he sneered, his tone dripping with mockery and indulgent disdain. His crimson eyes narrowed as he chuckled darkly, the sound echoing softly in the cavern's oppressive silence.
Slowly, he emerged from his hiding place, his steps deliberate and unhurried, as if savoring the anticipation of his actions. He crouched beside her fallen form, his shadow stretching over her like a predator looming over its kill. With a flick of his finger, he brushed away a streak of blood trailing from beneath her blindfold.
Bringing the finger to his lips, he licked it clean, his expression shifting to one of wicked satisfaction. The metallic tang of her blood seemed to ignite something within him. His right eye glowed faintly, its crimson hue deepening as his breath grew heavier, faster. His gaze fixed on her face, and he realized the blood only made her more alluring, more exquisite in her broken state.
"How utterly… delicious," he whispered, his voice a velvety caress that dripped with depraved admiration.
Her eyes—or rather, the hollow voids that lay beneath the bloodied blindfold—drew his attention. Their emptiness fascinated him, an abyss that seemed to reflect his own dark desires. He felt a strange pull, an almost magnetic allure emanating from her, as if her very brokenness called to the predator in him.
He reached for the blindfold, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric now soaked in her blood. Lifting it delicately, he brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, a slow, deliberate motion. The scent of her blood, mingled with the faint traces of power still clinging to the cloth, sent a thrill coursing through him. A low, satisfied hum escaped his throat.
Sliding the blindfold into his pocket, he stood, towering over her motionless body. "What a shame," he murmured, his tone a curious mix of regret and amusement. "We could have had such an interesting conversation."
Sliding the blindfold into his pocket, Emperal rose, his gaze lingering on the woman's unconscious form. Yet, something drew him back. With a faint smirk curling his lips, he crouched down once more, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and malice.
With deliberate steps, he crouched beside her once more, his gaze fixed on her delicate, blood-streaked hand. He reached for it, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the darkness that enveloped him. Slowly, he brought her hand to his mouth, his lips brushing against her skin as if savoring the sensation.
"Taste as intriguing as the rest of you," he muttered, his tone low and predatory.
As he lowered her hand, his attention caught on the dark green wooden ring adorning her finger. The texture was unlike anything he'd seen before, etched with faint patterns that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. With practiced ease, he slid the ring from her finger, rolling it between his own for a brief moment.
A chuckle escaped his lips. "Interesting. I think I'll keep this too," he said, slipping the ring into his pocket beside the blindfold.
Rising to his feet, he glanced at her one last time, his expression unreadable—half amusement, half something far darker. "Such a shame we didn't get to chat," he murmured, his voice almost teasing. "But there's always next time."
Without hesitation, he turned and moved toward the shadows, his footsteps soft and deliberate. The faint echo of his presence lingered for a moment before the cavern swallowed it whole, leaving only the dim glow of the enormous egg and the fallen woman behind.
…
As Emperal strolled through the narrow passage, his footsteps light and measured, he let out a low whistle. The faint echoes danced along the cavern walls, a tune laced with an edge of mischief.
"Damn," he muttered to himself, smirking. "That woman must be strong. No guards, no backup. Just her and that monstrosity of an egg."
The thought amused him, but also made him wary. Few operated in isolation without reason, and fewer still wielded power so openly. He continued forward, his fingers lightly brushing the rough stone walls. The faint glimmers of moonstone embedded in the cave lent just enough light to navigate.
His steps faltered when he noticed a faint glow emanating from a small opening to his right. Peering in, he caught sight of a dimly lit chamber tucked away in the shadows.
"Hmm? What's that?" he murmured, leaning closer. For a moment, he considered ignoring it and heading for the exit. But then a sly grin spread across his face. "What if there's treasure hidden here? I wouldn't want to miss out."
Chuckling to himself, he slipped inside.
The air was thick with age and disuse, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and decay. Shadows loomed large, cast by a single, flickering lantern affixed to the far wall. The room was sparse—empty save for scattered, splintered crates that looked as though they might crumble at a touch.
Emperal moved cautiously, his crimson eyes scanning the space with practiced precision. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint creak of his boots on the uneven floor.
As he wandered, his gaze caught on something at the room's far corner. A small box sat atop a weathered pedestal, its surface covered in jagged, intricate inscriptions. The markings twisted and curled in unnatural ways, radiating a faint aura that seemed to darken the room around it.
His grin widened. "Now that's promising," he muttered.
Approaching the box, he crouched down to examine it more closely. The carvings were unlike anything he'd seen before. Demonic wasn't the right word—it was something more primal, more sinister.
"Damn this is one mysterious box," he murmured, brushing a finger over the runes.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Crouching low, he gripped the edges of the box. It was heavier than he expected, the weight pressing against his palms as if it carried more than just its physical mass. With a sharp pull, he wrenched it from the pedestal. For a moment, the room seemed to tremble, a low hum vibrating through the air.
"Don't like being moved, do you?" Emperal said with a chuckle, tucking the box under one arm. "Too bad. You're coming with me."
Straightening up. "Guess we'll find out your secrets later—assuming I make it out of here alive."
…
But what he didn't realize was…
"W-Who was that?" the woman lying on the floor muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her legs trembled, not from fear, but from a rush of embarrassment, a soft blush spreading across her pale cheeks as her fingers brushed where his lips had touched.