The grand hall was a cacophony of voices, the laughter and chatter of nobles blending with the faint notes of a string quartet. It was a world far removed from Fenrir's lowly place, yet tonight, he was no mere servant. His wheelchair glided across the polished floors with an elegance that belied his station, his demeanor calm yet charged with a silent intensity.
By his side stood Countess Mary Ann, her ghostly presence accentuating his mystery. Draped in shimmering silver, she looked more like a porcelain doll than a living being, her face impassive and her movements unnervingly precise.
Fenrir, clad in a dark suit that seemed to drink the light, addressed the room with a measured nod. His beauty was an unspoken weapon, drawing eyes and silencing whispers.
"Welcome," he began, his voice smooth yet commanding. The conversations halted mid-sentence, all attention snapping to him. "You honor us with your presence tonight, and we hope to make it an evening you will not soon forget."
The words lingered in the air, carrying an almost ominous weight. The nobles clapped politely, some with genuine admiration, others with the practiced facade of those who feared offending even a servant who wielded such an aura.
Fenrir maneuvered his wheelchair through the crowd, his sharp gaze noting every reaction, every flicker of emotion. His role as a servant allowed him access to secrets others would never dare share openly, and he used their ignorance to his advantage.
"Ah, Lady Isolde," Fenrir said as he approached a group of finely dressed women. "Your gown tonight outshines even the stars themselves."
The woman's lips curled into a smile, her cheeks coloring faintly. "You're too kind, Fenrir."
"Kindness has little to do with truth," he replied, his tone both deferential and subtly beguiling.
He continued to charm his way through the crowd, his words calculated to plant seeds of curiosity and trust. Meanwhile, Mary Ann followed silently, her presence unsettling those who noticed her unblinking stare.
As the night wore on, Fenrir's focus shifted to the carefully orchestrated chaos he had planned. A young servant, his eyes glazed and lifeless, moved through the crowd, carrying a tray laden with wine.
Fenrir's lips twitched into a faint smile as he watched the servant falter, spilling a few drops of liquid onto a nearby tablecloth. The spill was harmless on its own, but moments later, the servant stumbled again, this time colliding with a candleholder.
The flame licked at the alcohol-soaked cloth, and within seconds, the fire roared to life. It spread with unnatural speed, consuming the hall in a matter of moments. The nobles screamed and scattered, their attempts to escape futile as the inferno closed in.
Fenrir sat motionless amidst the chaos, his face illuminated by the flickering flames. Mary Ann remained by his side, unflinching as the fire engulfed the room.
By the time the fire began to consume the main structure, the castle was a tomb. The screams of the nobles had long since faded, replaced by the crackling roar of fire and the groaning collapse of timber.
Fenrir wheeled himself toward the main doors, the fire parting as if unwilling to touch him. Behind him, Mary Ann followed, her movements eerily graceful despite the destruction.
The cool night air greeted them as they emerged from the blazing ruin. The castle stood as a towering pyre against the starless sky, its light casting long shadows across the empty grounds.
______
Standing at the edge of the castle grounds was a solitary figure, her crimson eyes glinting in the firelight. Rui watched as Fenrir approached, her body tense with a mixture of fear and something she couldn't quite name.
Rui had tried to sneak into the castle, but her hunger stopped her and she caused an accident. Before she could come to terms with that happened, the fire threated to burn everything down around her.
She somehow got out, but she was not the only one. Fenrir had gotten out alond with her and his presence stood behind Rui like a lingering shadow.
"You made it out," she said, her voice quiet but sharp.
"Of course," Fenrir replied, his tone light, as if commenting on the weather.
Rui's gaze shifted to Mary Ann, her unease deepening. The countess's lifeless expression sent a chill down her spine.
"What did you do?" Rui asked, her voice trembling despite her effort to appear composed.
Fenrir tilted his head, studying her with a faint smile. "Only what was necessary."
"You… killed them all," Rui said, her voice rising.
"Did I?" Fenrir countered, his tone calm. "Or did they die because they were too weak to escape?"
Rui stepped back, her instincts screaming at her to flee, but something kept her rooted in place. There was a connection between her and Fenrir, a thread she couldn't sever no matter how much she wanted to.
"You're a monster," she whispered, her hands clenching into fists.
Fenrir chuckled softly. "And you, Rui, are far more like me than you'd care to admit."
The words struck her like a physical blow, and she flinched, her mind racing. "Stay away from me," she said, her voice shaking.
"I'll respect your wishes," Fenrir said, his smile widening. "For now."
As he turned his wheelchair toward the darkened woods beyond the castle, Mary Ann followed without hesitation. Rui watched them disappear into the shadows, the burning castle behind them casting its dying light on her pale face.
The smoldering ruins of the castle were still visible on the horizon when Rui finally broke the silence that had hung between her and Fenrir. They were deep in the forest now, the moonlight barely filtering through the canopy above. The air was thick with tension, the crackle of dying embers in the distance serving as a reminder of what had transpired.
"What is your endgame, Fenrir?" Rui asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.
Fenrir, seated in his wheelchair with an unsettling serenity, turned his gaze toward her. The faint flicker of amusement danced in his pale eyes. "My endgame? Rui, why settle for games when the stakes are so much higher?"
She crossed her arms, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Spare me the theatrics. You orchestrated all this chaos. You killed everyone in that castle. Why?"
He tilted his head, as if contemplating how much to reveal. "Because the weak must fall so the strong can rise. That is the law of this world, is it not?"
"And what do you hope to rise to?" Rui demanded.
Fenrir's smile widened, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips. "To rule, Rui. To rule over the human race."
Rui stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment. Then, laughter burst from her lips, harsh and incredulous. "You? Rule humanity? Don't make me laugh. The temple is always watching for people like you. They'd kill you before you could even try."
Fenrir's expression didn't waver. "Ah, yes. The temple. Guardians of morality, defenders of order." His tone was laced with sarcasm. "They are a nuisance, but one I am more than capable of handling."
"Capable? You can't even stand on your own two feet," Rui shot back, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Can't I?" Fenrir asked softly. His voice sounded almost cruel and curious, which made Rui feel uncomfortable.
He gestured to Mary Ann, who had remained unnervingly silent, her lifeless eyes staring into the void. Rui had avoided looking at the countess for too long; the woman's presence unnerved her in ways she couldn't quite explain.
"Watch closely," Fenrir said, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
Mary Ann's body began to convulse, her head lolling to the side as an unnatural sound emanated from her throat. Rui took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. The air around them grew heavy, and an oppressive darkness seemed to seep from the earth itself.
"What are you doing?" Rui whispered, her voice trembling.
Fenrir's eyes glowed faintly, a crimson hue that mirrored her own. "Bringing forth a guest."
A guttural scream tore from Mary Ann's lips as her body arched backward, her limbs twisting unnaturally. A cold wind swept through the clearing, carrying with it the faint scent of decay.
And then it stopped.
Mary Ann's body went still, her head snapping upright. When her eyes opened, they were black as obsidian, and a cruel smile spread across her pale face.
The body that had looked dead seconds ago suddenly looked like it had been breathed a new life into. The bones around the body were cracking before they reformed and the body stood up on it's own feet.
"Ah, it feels good to breathe again," the woman said, her voice rich with malice. "Even if this body is… fragile."
Rui stumbled backward, her blood running cold. "What… what is that?"
Fenrir leaned back in his wheelchair, his expression one of satisfaction. "Rui, meet the fifth demon king, the Lady of Sorrow."
The possessed Mary Ann turned her gaze toward Rui, her smile widening. "A pleasure, I'm sure," she said, her tone mocking.