Chapter 17: Chains of the Apocalypse
The dim glow of the villa's reinforced LED lights cast long shadows over the luxurious bedroom. Outside, the world was already beginning to rot, though no one knew it yet.
Lucian sat on the edge of the bed, his crimson gaze fixed on Evelyn as she lay beside him, her body stiff with hesitation. She was trapped, and she knew it.
"You're still thinking of running?" Lucian asked, his voice smooth yet dangerous.
Evelyn swallowed hard, her delicate fingers gripping the silk sheets. "You don't own me."
Lucian smirked. "I already do."
With that, he leaned forward, caging her between his arms. His presence was overwhelming—suffocating. His scent, sharp like steel and something darkly intoxicating, filled her senses. Evelyn's breath hitched as Lucian traced a finger down her neck, feeling her rapid pulse beneath his touch.
"Why are you afraid?" he murmured, his lips mere inches from her ear.
Evelyn shuddered. "Because I know what you are."
Lucian's smirk widened. "Good. Then you already understand that resisting me is useless."
His fingers trailed lower, grazing over her collarbone. Evelyn jerked, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped between Lucian and the lavish bed he had placed her in.
The villa was a fortress—her gilded cage.
Lucian exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "Stop pretending you don't want this."
Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. "You're insane."
Lucian chuckled darkly, gripping her chin and forcing her to meet his crimson gaze. "No, Evelyn. I'm simply what this world will become. The sooner you understand that, the easier it will be for you."
A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension.
Then, Lucian moved.
In a single, fluid motion, he grabbed Evelyn's wrist, pulling her against him. She gasped, her small hands pressing against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away. But Lucian didn't budge.
His strength was absolute.
"Let me go," Evelyn whispered, her voice trembling.
Lucian tilted his head. "No."
She shivered as his breath ghosted over her skin. Lucian's grip was firm but not cruel—at least, not yet.
"Why fight, Evelyn?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. "The world is about to burn. People will tear each other apart. Monsters will rule the streets."
His fingers brushed against her cheek.
"But here, with me? You'll be safe."
Evelyn's heart pounded.
Lucian leaned in closer, his lips a mere whisper away. "Say it."
Evelyn clenched her fists. "Say what?"
Lucian's smile was slow, predatory. "That you're mine."
She trembled, her body betraying her. She wanted to scream, to deny it—but deep down, she knew he was right.
Lucian always got what he wanted.
And tonight, he wanted her.
—
The Darkest Hour
Lucian stood at the balcony of his villa, overlooking the sprawling city below. The skyline was beautiful, but he knew it wouldn't last.
One month.
That was all the time he had before the apocalypse began.
His crimson eyes gleamed with anticipation. He had already secured the foundation of his survival—his villa, his resources, his infinite storage. But there was still more to do.
Lucian turned as a soft voice called from behind him.
"Lucian…"
Evelyn stood in the doorway, draped in a silk robe, her expression unreadable.
Lucian smirked. "Changed your mind already?"
Evelyn crossed her arms. "I don't have a choice."
Lucian chuckled. "No, you don't."
She hesitated before stepping forward. "You said the world is going to end… How do you know?"
Lucian's gaze darkened. "Because I've seen it."
Evelyn frowned. "What do you mean?"
Lucian exhaled, tilting his head toward the city lights. "A month from now, everything you know will be gone. The streets will be filled with the dead. People you once trusted will betray you. The weak will be slaughtered."
His smirk turned sharp.
"And I will thrive."
Evelyn swallowed. "And what happens to people like me?"
Lucian turned to her fully. His gaze raked over her, calculating.
"Women like you?" He took a step forward. "You'll have two choices. Become a prize… or become food."
Evelyn paled.
Lucian reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But you're lucky, Evelyn."
Her breath hitched. "Why?"
His smirk deepened. "Because I've already claimed you."
—
The Hunt Begins
The next morning, Lucian wasted no time.
With the apocalypse looming, he had a mission.
Stockpiling supplies had been easy. Winning the $3 billion lottery had been laughably simple. Now, it was time to hunt.
He needed weapons. More resources. And most importantly… more women.
Lucian's system activated as he walked through the streets of Seoul, scanning the crowd. Numbers floated above each woman's head, evaluating their beauty.
89… 87… 92…
Lucian smirked.
She was standing by a café, sipping an iced coffee, her golden-brown hair cascading over her shoulders.
A beauty score of 94.
Perfect.
Lucian approached with practiced ease. The girl noticed him immediately—his unnatural white hair, his crimson eyes, his overwhelming presence.
She swallowed. "Can I… help you?"
Lucian smiled. "Yes."
Before she could react, Lucian leaned in, his voice a whisper against her ear.
"The world is about to end," he murmured. "And you're coming with me."
She shuddered, her pulse quickening. "W-what?"
Lucian's eyes gleamed.
Let the games begin.
—
To Be Continued…