Chapter 49 – A Trap
“A trap is only a trap if you don’t know about it. If you know about it, it’s a challenge.“– -China Miéville
Kiya
In order to get out of this madhouse, I need the power of stealth. Wolves are crafty creatures by nature, in packs even more so. But tonight, I’m alone and can solely rely on myself. Getting home safe is my motivation because my family is waiting for my return. I must return and put this insanity behind me.
Danger lurks at every corner, in the light and the darkness. One slip up, and I’m a goner. Hiding in the darkened corner between two walls, I listen for distant chatter along with utilizing my senses to sniff out how close an enemy is. This home is full of enemies with cruel intentions. Once the coast is clear, I sneak out of
my hiding spot, on the search of a new one.
I don’t know where the exit is, but I won’t stop until I find it. My freedom depends on it. The mansion’s atmosphere thickened with wicked magic humming through the impenetrable air. Heavy and weighing down on me without consequence, partially to do with the chainless shackles around my wrists. The work of corrupt witches, who I’m sure lurk about between these walls. If I am to sniff the woodsy air again, I must slip past
them too.
“I wonder what’s the deal with the witches.” I thought, walking through the vacant halls, attentive to not step on a creaky board. “What do they get out of working with Osiris?”
“Hmm. Whatever he promised them, it must be good.” Artemis wondered. “Evil doesn’t need a reason to do what it does. Sadly, not all witches are as kind–hearted as Phoebe.”
“It’s tragic, but I can’t pity anyone who choses this path. All they do is hurt people.” Like Odessa and Jonathan did. As I traversed down the obscure, windowless hallway, my eye caught an old, large painting residing on the wall near an exit. In silence, I walked up to gaze at the couple presented in the portrait, framed dark gold with light dusting at its corners. Remnants of brushstrokes added depth to the art, intertwining with physical features and colors to make them stand out. The colors weren’t strong, but soften
and subtle to not sting
the eyes.
My gaze landed on the woman in a golden, pleaded dress with gentle, down–turned, auburn eyes peering back. at me. Skin as smooth as silk and brown as russet, her smile gave way to her kindness captured in the art. Black hair mimicking ocean waves rested on her shoulders, coiling down her cleavage, framing the diamond necklace resting around her neck. Pinned to the side of her hair was, what I suspected to be, a blooming carnelian. She folded in her hands her lap, nails colored white, blending in with the soft theme of her
aesthetic.
Standing above her was a man, regal, wearing a black and white petticoat with a hand on the woman’s shoulder. The more I stared at the man, the likeness he held to Osiris came to light. Colorless, pin–straight tresses flowed behind him as his fringe shielded one crimson eye, giving him a mysterious vibe. With skin in the shade of paling bronze, the black in his clothing made it stand out. While his eyes were serious, the grip on the woman’s shoulder was soft–a telling contrast between the two.
“Are they…Osiris‘ parents?” Artemis asked the million–dollar question. Pondering on that possibility made the likelihood of that theory to be true.
“I think so. He shares features from both his mother and father, so that means this palace belongs to them. A
Chapter 49 – A Trap
ssuming those two are dead, what would they think of Osiris‘ hellbent scheme to punish werewolf kind?”
“A question we’ll never have an answer to.” My wolf sighed. “You should keep going. I want the
don’t man in question snatching you up***
“Right.”
As
s I slipped in corners, under decorative tables, and behind doors, I took notice of the mansion’s habitants freely roaming on each floor. The corrupt witches ranged from young adults to the elderly with deadly magic braided into their aura. Whenever they passed by me, it is as if I couldn’t breathe because their presence is suffocating. Phoebe told me stories of witches who practice dark magic, the type she dabbles in, but it was never to harm others. Magic is the manipulation of energy to work in the way the caster wants, and some use it for their selfish benefit.
The runes embedded in these dumb bracelets would shimmer whenever some would pass by, prompting me to hide them close to my person to not give away my hiding spot. Now, I know these horrible people designed and constructed not just these, but the ones back at the asylum. That begs the question on why the asylum was needed in the first place.
Osiris is a cunning man, but his mind is a puzzle I can’t seem to decipher either. His plans are solid, but his clandestine methodology leaves nothing for the imagination.
Through a series of exits and corridors, I’ve made it to the bottom floor, listening to the cacophony of dishes from the kitchen. Or so I thought was the kitchen. Judging by the rancid smell, however, I don’t think edible food is being cooked in there. The acrid odor activated the tumbling nausea in my stomach equal to decay. Rotting flesh and tainted blood.
“I don’t think I want to see what’s going on in there….” Artemis trailed on.
“It’s revolting! This is perhaps where they make the zombie rogue wolves.”
“No doubt, but tread carefully. There’s more movement down here.”
And she couldn’t be any more right. Several witches poured out of the makeshift kitchen along with a few hybrids I spot in the crowd. I ducked underneath a table, hiding behind the tablecloth, curling into a small ball with my back pressed up against a wall.
“How much longer must we craft and create rotting mutts? We should put our abilities to better use.” One witch huffed; her feminine adenoidal voice thick. My ears perked up, listening closer to the conversation.
“Until Osiris says we can begin with the ritual.” The dull voice of another commented. “He must make sure everything is in place before he brings the girl down.”
“Well, he needs to hurry. I’m waiting for the moment we can finally rain hell amongst those who’ve wronged us all these years.”
“Pipe down! Osiris has eyes and ears everywhere. Question him and he’ll revoke his promise to you, maybe even kill you.” A high–pitched voice warned. “If you want that immortality, shut the hell up and do what you need to do. How is the room looking up?”
“We just need to dress the black candles in snake’s blood and finishing carving the ouroboros and it’ll be ready.” The monotonous voice replied. “All our hard work won’t be in vain, I promise that.”
The footsteps retreated away from me, disappearing into the distance. Poking my head out from under the tablecloth, I hobbled on my feet in shock of what I just heard.
“Snake blood? Ritual? I don’t like where this is going and I’m not staying to find out!” Just by what that said
group sent chills down my spine. Rituals of that caliber cannot equate to anything good. If Phoebe were here, she’d give insight into this insanity.
“Remain calm, Kiya. The front door is around here. We just got to keep searching.”
I tiptoed past the makeshift kitten and passed another set of doors until I heard, “Hold on, I forgot something!” followed by hasty footsteps. My heart hammered against my ribcage as the prospect of getting caught as sweat perfusing out of my pores.
“Shit! What the hell should I do!?”
“Hide!”
“I know that, but where?!”
“What’s behind that set of doors?” I cracked the door open to see a grandeur, clean dining hall. “Perfect! Hide here!”
Sniffing once to insure no one else is inside, I slipped through the doors, ducking down as I listened to the
out of that unscathed! witch pass by. I let out a sigh of relief; I can’t believe I got
Until the door started moving. Shit!
Panicked, I dove underneath the lavish tables like a diver, curling myself into a ball once more, hugging my knees to my chest. This is going to be one hell of a story to tell Jackie and the others, I swear. Footsteps trotted inside the hall, coming close to my hiding spot. Pressing my hand over my mouth, I quieted my breathing, but my heart thumped to the beat of a thousand drums.
The witch was so close that her gross feet poked from under the tablecloth. The black flats she wore was the only thing appealing to the eye.
“Why do I have the urge to punch her toes?”
“Kiya. No.”
“But I’m annoyed.”
“NO!”
“Accomplices to kidnapping get broken toes.”
“Stop it!”
“Just the big toe!”
Why a
you like this?”
“It’s the ashy knuckles for me.”
Спартет 49–А Тгар
“I swear to Selene, Kiya-!”
Before I could f*ck up the mission with my random urges, the crusty–looking toes slipped away, and the witch. left the dining hall with a door slam behind her. Emerging from under the table, I spotted a set of double doors on the other side, hushed and still. With the light of hope burning inside me, I skipped toward and opened the doors, poking my head into another deserted hallway.
Silence.
No one has been in these halls in a while because of the lack of stale scents in the air. Standing in the middle of the corridor, I contemplated on which path to go. One of these paths leads towards the exit, yet I’m not sure where to go. But, trusting my instincts, I walked toward the right side of the black walls, noting other paintings on the walls.
Osiris or one of his parents must adore paintings, but many haven’t been tended to, judging by the yellowing backgrounds from lack of care. The portrait of his parents was taken care of more than these abandoned
canvases.
Freedom is so close that I could taste it. “We’re close, Art! I have a feeling the front door is not too far away.”
And I was correct.
The atrium of Osiris‘ mansion was twice the size of the foyers in Garnet and Zircon Moon, but decorated in black, red, and gold carpeting and paneling, giving off the haunting feel of a mysterious castle. I expected no less from a vampire. Beside me was a set of stairs leading to the second floor of the home, curved. This home was beyond convoluted for my taste, but being in such a massive home must feel so lonely. History is hidden behind these walls, detailing the tale of Osiris‘ parents after their escape from Zircon Moon and the abandonment of their children.
But that’s not my problem. Sauntering to the front door, my heart pounded once more as I gripped the doorknob, twisting to find it unlocked. Moonlight greeted me with a dazzling strip of silver, illuminating my body. For a second, happiness flooded me faster than a tsunami, proud that I’ve reached my goal. Taking that leap of faith, I ran out the door into the cool summer breeze, the scent of nature tickling my nose. Deep green forestry laid beyond my eyes, beckoning me into its safety in its dense refuge.
I can’t believe it! I’m that much closer to going home! However, a small inkling burrowed itself to the front of my mind, forcing my attention to it.
This escape. It was too easy; like a dream come true.
Oh, how fast dreams can turn into nightmares..
As I made my first steps towards the forest, a crawling sensation rose from my waistline to my shoulders, trapping me in place. Two large, clammy hands pressed themselves hard against either side of my head, sharp nails sinking into the flesh of my face. A dark chuckle rumbled from behind me, dousing me in sub–zero chill.
“Ah, Little Moon, like a mouse running through a maze, you found your escape from my humble abode. I should commend you for your tenacity and bravery. However…” As his nails sunk deeper into my skin, so did the pain. I writhed and struggled, but it was fruitless. Darkness pooled from the corner of my eyes, sinking deep into my vision, obscuring the silver illumination into complete blackness. “Commendable as you may be, I’m afraid your lucky streak ends here.”
The world came crashing down at me, darkness filling my lungs with its thick noze. I screamed, attempting to pry Osiris‘ hands off my head, but my muscles weakened like gelatin. Senses dulled and my body surrendered to the darkness with my once rapid heart stilling to abrupt calm. The world welcomed horrid black into my home, taking over like a festering disease. All surrounding sounds buzzed before falling into complete silence. My body, weak and helpless, fell forward only to be caught by the arms of my captor.
Artemis was right..
This was a trap.
Osiris
Kiya’s intelligence and resourcefulness wasn’t to be underestimated, but in the end, I came out on top. Allowing her to escape her room to roam my halls was a game I was nervous wouldn’t work out in my favor. But, like a food–deprived rat, she found the bait and took it, only to be met with crushing feat.
Oh, my beauty. You should’ve understood that I’ll never let you go. You are far too important to me.
ame.
Carrying my unconscious lady in my arms, I turned to my army of servants; hybrids and witches alike, standing at the entrance of my door with soulless eyes.
“It’s time to begin the first part of the ritual.”
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