Act III: Dark Past, Dark Memory

Act III: Dark Past, Dark Memory

By: P. Christopher




Rayven was lost in a haze of sexual bliss. As her master drew his manicured nails across her tender flesh, her body arched to his touch, her small hands curling into fists around the pillow as he pushed her legs apart.

Without warning, the spark of a familiar action set alight the embers of memory, drawing Suffer back to another time, another place, another woman…
#
Red Door-that was her perfume. Its scent hung lightly upon her, underscored by the faint scent of baby lotion.

She was fresh from the shower, laying on a towel, and her damp hair fanned out from her head like sunbeams.

“Mmm…” she purred, gently pressing down on his shoulders. “You’re getting warmer. Warmer. Ahhh. Right there.”
#
Banishing the ghosts of the past, Suffer returned to the moment; his blood slave seemed oblivious, her hands gliding up her body, over her breasts as her master sunk his fangs into her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat as he drew blood from her vein.
#
“Ouch!” she said, swatting at him playfully. “Gently, baby! Be gentle with me!”
#
Suffer heaved his body against Rayven, crashing against her like waves against the shore. Rayven drew ragged breath, her hips rocking in time with her master’s powerful thrusts while her arms were braced against the headboard. Tilting her head back, the Werewolf moaned her ecstasy, her hair an ebony web upon the crimson pillow case. As her master drove himself deep inside her, the blood slave could feel her pleasure building toward climax.

So lost was she in her passions that she didn’t see the knife until it was too late.

Suffer leaned closer, his lips painfully close to hers, and then a flash of steel. With surgical precision he drew the blade across her neck, opening her jugular in a scarlet spray. Her moans once soft, passionate, were now only gurgling gasps as her lungs filled with blood. Wide eyes stared back at Suffer who regarded her through a mask of blood. Her mind reeled with panic as her life gushed from her, yet every thrust brought wave after wave of delirious pleasure. She clawed at his back as she fought for life, desperate to hold on long enough to allow him his orgasm, but consciousness was failing her; it was a struggle to breathe. His motions were swifter now, more animalistic as his excitement grew. Lowering his head, he lapped at her lifeblood running down her body, sucked it from her nipples.

At last he came, filling her with his dead seed. Now if she could just last long enough to reach her own climax…

Her heartbeat faltered, the darkness was beckoning her. Let go, it said. Let go.

Stubborn as always, she clung to life. She was close. So close.

The wave of her lust crested and broke over her. Convulsing in her climax, the Werewolf drifted away, a contented smile on her face.
#
Freshly showered, Lord Suffer went downstairs and found Tena and Pup in the kitchen. “Pup,” he said. “Go and change the sheets.”

Looking up from her mop, Pup replied, “Yes, master.”

When she had gone, Tena looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.

“Of course.”

A moment later Pup’s scream rang through the halls of castle SuffeRing. The Angel shot her master a look before vanishing.
#
Padding up the stairs, Pup went down the hall to the master bedroom where she found the door slightly ajar. Her heightened sense of smell detected something that gave her pause. Pushing the door open, the slave was confronted with a scene of unspeakable brutality. In a pool of her own blood, her sister lay on the bed unmoving, brown eyes open and unseeing.

The scream started in the pit of her belly, shaking her body as it moved up her throat, exploding from her mouth, a sonic representation of her utter terror.

She was screaming still when the Angel appeared beside her. Throwing herself into the Angel’s arms, Pup sobbed, “He killed her!”

Tena reluctantly wrapped her arms around the Werewolf, stroking her soft, blonde hair. “Yes,” she said. “He does that sometimes. Now come on; I’ll help you clean this up.”

“What-what do we do with…her?”

“We’ll put her to bed for now.”

Together they moved Rayven’s body from the master bedroom to her own bed in the slave room, which was little more than a closet with three naked mattresses on the floor. Bringing the soiled sheets downstairs to the laundry, Pup avoided her master’s gaze, scampering past him lest she meet her sister’s fate.
#
Not long after the sun rose the next morning, Tena woke Pup from her slumber on the floor at the foot of their master’s bed; she was carrying a tray of food. “Come with me,” she said.

Stretching, Pup reached for a piece of toast and got her hand smacked. “That’s not for you.”

Tena led her to the slave quarters, kneeling beside Rayven’s body, which was still covered in a shroud of dried blood. When they moved her, Tena had closed her eyes making it look as though she was sleeping. Still, Pup was uneasy.

“Promise me something, Pup,” said Tena.

“What?” asked Pup.

“Promise me you won’t scream.”

“Scream? I don’t understand.”

“Just promise.”

“Alright, I promise.”

“Good.”

Pup looked over Rayven’s body and despaired. “I just can’t imagine why master would do such a thing to poor Rayven.”

“Because our master is an abomination, a scourge upon the human race who’s cruelty is unparalleled even by his own maker, the Angel’s Bane. He is pitiless, soulless; his only goal is the suffering of others. He is a foul, loathsome, despicable mockery of Creation; the world would be better had he never walked upon it.”

“And what does that make me?” asked Rayven, her eyes snapping open.

To her credit, Pup didn’t scream.
She feinted.

Tena paid no attention to Pup. Her hatred growing until its bitter taste was on her tongue, the Angel spat. “You? You are a black shard, a perfect little piece of him. Perfectly sharp. Perfectly dark. When he is burning in Hell, you will be there beside him.”

“So long as I have you there for company, dear sister.”

Tena’s wings fluttered. Slamming the tray down, rattling the dishes, the Angel stomped away without another word.

Alone, Rayven picked up a piece of toast, bit into it just to spit it out. “Ugh! It’s cold! Come back from the dead and still can’t get a warm breakfast.”
#
By the time Pup came to, the day was failing. She was first aware of voices.

"Is there a problem?" There was no sympathy in his tone.

"She is from a different pack, amo," said Rayven. "I cannot tea-"
#
Lord Suffer raised his hand to silence her. "I see. I see," he said nodding slowly. In a heartbeat, the slave was caught in his arms, whimpering a little as he drank deeply from her. When he set her back on her feet, she wobbled, lightheaded by the sudden loss of blood. "With this kiss I seal your punishment," he said. "You will be invisible to me until your wound has healed."

He walked by even as she opened her mouth to protest, almost knocking her over as he passed.
#
Pup opened her eyes to find that she had been moved to a couch in the den. Seeing that she was awake her master came over and, taking her by the wrist, he said, "I'm no Werewolf, but I know a thing or two about transformation; I will train you myself.”
#
Rayven observed from the shadows as the Vampire attempted to instruct the young Werewolf in the intricacies of shape shifting.

"Concentrate," he said. "Think about becoming the wolf. Visualize the transformation." He demonstrated several times, but try as she might, the girl simply couldn't match his success.

Despite her instincts, Rayven found her heart going out to the new arrival; she could tell that the girl was on the edge of tears.

Rayven sighed heavily, pulling her legs to her chest; she laid her chin on her knees. To think just hours ago she had died for him. What went wrong?

All at once it was clear.

Master was right. Her focus wasn't on him-it was on herself. What did it matter if this girl was from a different pack? All of them, even the Angel, were in the same pack now-Pack Suffer. With Lord Suffer as the alpha male and her as the alpha female, Pup could certainly be the beta female. Rayven nodded bitterly as the epiphany came to her too late.

The shadows on the floor shifted and grew as the light changed. Rayven looked up as Tena floated down from the rafters to sit on her haunches in front of her. "You miss him, don't you?"

Rayven looked away. "Leave me alone."

Tena rolled her eyes, clucked her tongue. "I really shouldn't be doing this…" Reaching out, the Angel touched the side of Rayven's neck and the Werewolf recoiled.

"Let me help," said Tena reassuringly. "I promise this won't hurt a bit." As Tena put two softly glowing fingers against the bite wound, Rayven felt warmth spreading up and down her neck. When the Angel removed her fingers, the wounds were healed. Rayven's hand went to her neck and confirmed it.

Standing, Tena took Rayven’s hands and pulled her to her feet. "You aren't invisible anymore. Scoot."

“This doesn’t change anything between us,” said Rayven.

“No, of course it doesn’t.”
#
When she saw Rayven padding over to them, her bare feet making light slapping sounds on the stone floor, Pup sought shelter behind her master.

Baring her neck Rayven said, "Your punishment is lifted, amo. My wounds have healed."

"So I see. It would seem that your powers of rejuvenation have had a rapid increase."

Melting to her knees, Rayven pressed her forehead to the floor. "Mi amo, a girl apologizes for her behavior. She will not forget her place again. With your permission I would like to help train my new sister as you commanded."

"To your feet," he commanded. "You know the rules; forgiveness is not granted-it’s earned. Your chance will come, but after Pup has joined me in the shower.”

Standing to her feet, Rayven peeked around her master. Smiling brightly at the girl she said, "I’ll see you later then, ok? I promise I won't bite." Then to her master, "Sorry, master, but its obvious Vampires and Werewolves don't do it the same way; she would never have learned it the way you were teaching."
#
Standing in the bathroom, Suffer commanded Pup to strip. Mute with fear, she complied then followed him into the shower, which was already running.

Handing her soap and a cloth, he said, “You will wash me, understand? Me first, then yourself.”

Nodding, Pup said, “Yes, master,” in a voice that was pitifully small. Body quaking in terror, the Werewolf set trembling hands to the task of bathing her master, noticing for the first time the enormous tribal dragon design that dominated his back. The outstretched wings extended to his shoulders while the pointed tail curled around his left leg.

All at once, Suffer was swept up in a tide of memory.
#
“Uh, huh. Got a sunburn didn’t you?” she chided playfully, careful as she washed his back, which was now an angry shade of red. “I told you; even you have to worry about sunburn!”

He remembered smiling.

“Now look at me. No sunburn here. Why? Because I used sun block.” She turned a small circle showing off that perfect body of her-she was beautiful-and flashed him that bright smile that had stolen his heart. “Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

#
His sudden, swift movement caught her off her guard and she fell to her knees before him, golden fluid leaking between her legs. “Mercy, master! This girl is sorry for her poor performance! Please! Please don’t kill me, master!”

Overwhelmed by the sudden blast of pure terror coming from the miserable girl and still haunted by the vision, Suffer’s mind reeled. Bracing himself against the tile wall, pointing to the door, he commanded her, “Get out.”

Pup whimpered as she skulked out of the shower and the bathroom.
#
Having slipped in unnoticed while he showered, she now lay in the darkness, waiting for Suffer when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Hello, Domina,” he said.

Shadow lay on her side in his bed; crimson sheets pulled over the swell of her hip, down the curve of her waist to where it was tucked under her arm, the line of her cleavage disappearing beneath the silk. “Hello, mine,” she replied. “I saw Pup crawling out of here a moment ago. Is there a problem?”

Discarding his towel, Suffer crossed the room to the bed. “It’s nothing.”

Lifting the sheet, Shadow said, “Come; lay with me.”
The Vampire Lord slipped under the sheet, lying beside his maker. She drew closer, kicking a naked leg over his and running her fingers across his broad chest. Her body was warm against his; it was clear that she had fed very recently.

“You’re cold,” she observed. “Three slaves and still you don’t feed often enough.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?”

“Well, I came here with the intention to have you make love to me, but I have since thought better of it.”

“Indeed? Do tell.”

“Watching Pup scurry from the bathroom like that, I realized something. If we were to have sex, I would be no different from any one of the countless women who have shared this bed with you. That thought does not sit well with me.”

Tucking an arm under his head, Suffer replied, “As you wish.”

All at once he was elsewhere. Different bed, different blonde…

Different life.
#
“Better rest up slugger,” she said cuddling against him. “You’ve got about five minutes before I’m ready for you to do that to me again.”
#
“What was it like being dead?” asked Pup, picking a shirt from the pile on the couch and folding it neatly.

“Want me to show you?” Rayven asked, bearing another basket of clothing.

Something about her sister’s tone and the dark look in those mahogany eyes gave Pup the chills. “No,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then be a good girl and go take the clothes from the washer and put them in the dryer.”

Nodding, Pup slinked away toward the laundry room.

“Why were you so mean to her?” Tena wanted to know.

“Don’t tell me she doesn’t get on your nerves sometimes with all that cutesy, naïve bullshit. She’s so sweet it makes my teeth hurt! Hell, she’s more of an Angel than you are!”

“Did it ever occur to you that it wasn’t bullshit? Not everyone is as wicked as you are.
“I think she’s darling. It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tainted by master’s evil.”

“Or maybe you just like her because I don’t.”

“I don’t give you that much consideration.”

“Bitch.”

“Interesting choice of words coming from someone who spends half her life with fur and a tail.”

With a swipe of her hand, Rayven knocked over all the piles of clothes and stalked out of the room.

Tena looked at the mess and frowned. Master had forbidden her from using her powers on her chores. “It builds character,” he had said.

The Angel huffed. “Character my left wing.”

“If you do that, master will be angry.” Pup was peering around the doorway looking very small. “I’ll do it if you don’t want to,” she offered.

For a moment, Tena felt what Rayven must have felt. How sickeningly sweet of her. But her demeanor was so sincere. Tena sighed. “Alright. But I’ll help you.”

“Ok,” said Pup, looking this way and that as she stepped into the room with her arms clutched to her chest.

“You don’t have to worry about her; she’s gone.”
#
Quietly, the black wolf crept along the marble floor to the bathroom where she shifted back into human form. Standing before the large mirror, she picked up a silver brush. Slowly, she pulled it through long, ebony tresses. Imagined it was her master, Rayven smiled a little. Strange how the brush, which had seemed so tiny in his hands, now appeared almost too big for her small ones.

It wasn’t too long ago that it was just the two of them in the castle. He needed her then, to mind his home, to watch over him as he slept. But now, she was just one of three. Just another woman among so many in his life.
He had needed her once, and she had betrayed him. And now…

Now he didn’t need her anymore.
Slowly, the brush came to a stop as Rayven stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to keep her heart from breaking.
#
Without warning, the Vampire Lord was stricken with a sudden feeling of intense misery. Rolling out of bed, he stood up.

“What is it?” asked Shadow.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Something’s wrong... Rayven.” Overwhelmed, he staggered to the door, holding his palm against his forehead.

Outside, Tena was leaning against the wall, arms folded over her breasts. “So, you feel it, too.”

“What the hell is going on?” he snarled.

“Fruits of your labor. It’s Rayven; she’s miserable. I would think you’d be overjoyed, but it seems my blood has taken its toll on you.”

“I will see to this.”

“Better let me.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because she needs a hug. Are you prepared to do that?”

“I’ll decide what she needs.” The Vampire stalked down the hall to the bathroom, threw the door open with a bang.

Startled by the banging of the door, Rayven dropped the silver brush into the sink. At first she thought it must have been the wind as hers was the only reflection in the mirror.

“What is the matter with you?” her master demanded.

She spun around, and his countenance was terrifying to behold. But she was her master’s slave and she would show no fear, not even to him. Instead, she stood tall, back straight, arms clasped behind her, eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry, master. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“I trust your chores are done if you have time to be brushing your hair.”

“All the chores are done, master,” said Tena.
Lord Suffer looked first at one slave then the other. “Fine. Two goblets from you, Rayven. Bring them to my room and be quick.”

“Yes, master,” said Rayven. Ducking past her master, she shot Tena a dark look.

The Angel turned to her master in time to catch his palm across her face. With a gasp, she spun round, hand going to her burning cheek.

“The next time I am speaking to one of your sisters, keep your mouth shut,” said Suffer. “Am I clear?”

Tena nodded. “Yes, master.”

“Good.”

When she was sure he had gone, Tena slid to her knees, buried her face in her hands. Alone in the dark, the Angel knelt on the bathroom floor, her body shuddering with her sobs.
#
When Suffer returned to his bedroom Shadow had gone just as silently as she had arrived.

Walking through the open doors, the Vampire stood on the balcony under the moon’s cool gaze.

Again he was haunted by the spectre of the past.
#
Below the balcony, the full moon cast a pale streak across the black surface of the Pacific Ocean as the cruise ship sliced through the waves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.

“I was just thinking that it was the most beautiful sight in the world, but it’s just been upstaged,” he said, caressing her cheek with his palm.

She smiled and leaned against him. “I love you so much,” she said.
#
“Suffer.”

He turned in search of the origin of the voice only to find himself looking into his empty bedroom. As he stepped inside, the balcony doors slammed shut of their own accord.

Darkness crept across the room strangling the light. In the midst of it, two crimson eyes burned. The Vampire Lord could just make out the scant form of a woman. Draped in flowing shadow, her shape was more of a suggestion, an impression in his mind. The curve of a rounded hip, the line of a slender arm, and that honey sweet voice. As she moved, the darkness followed, it was as though she were wearing it like an ethereal cloak.

“Suffer, I’ve an offer for you,” she said.

“I’m listening,” he said, sounding bemused.

“It’s simple really. I give you your heart’s desire…in return for your soul, of course.”

“Of course. It’s fascinating; you are the second being to come seeking my soul here in my bedroom, but you don’t look like an Angel to me.”

“I was at one time.”

“What do Heaven and Hell want with my soul?”

“It’s a trivial issue. Really, what does it matter?”

“But, Vampires don’t have souls, or haven’t you heard?”

The demon laughed. “Is that what your precious Angel told you? She’d love to believe that. But the truth is, while death may claim your mortal life, it has no effect on your immortal soul.”

“Intriguing. And if I do not give in to temptation? What do I get?”

“Impossible,” the demon sniffed.

“Humor me.”

“Fine. What do you want? Wealth? Power? Fame?”

“I have all of those,” he replied. “What I want is you.”

The darkness shifted. “Me? You mean as a slave?”

The Vampire nodded.

“So be it.”

All at once, the darkness began to recede like smoke in the wind and from it, the past stepped into the present.

She came into focus slowly as the shadows retreated in wispy tendrils. The sunbeam hair, the sapphire eyes…

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lay her head against his chest and Suffer felt a throbbing ache where his heart had once been. His breath hitched as he folded his arms around the woman he hadn’t dared hope to hold again.

“Where have you been?” he asked, laying his cheek to her soft hair.

“Shh. Don’t ask questions,” she said, “Just hold me.”

He held her, held her so close. Was this real? If it was a dream, did he really want to wake up?

“You still want me, don’t you, darling?” she asked, looking up at him with searching eyes. “Say you want me to stay.”

“I-“

Wake up.

I don’t want to.

“Please don’t make me go. I’ve missed you so much, Suffer.”

Suffer? That’s right. He was Suffer now. The man he was when he held her died the day she left. That had been over fifty years ago; the woman in his arms hadn’t aged a day since.

Wake up!

“No!” With a snarl he shoved her back against the wall. She hit the wall with a thud, and the illusion evaporated in a swirl of ebony mist.

“Impossible!” the demon hissed. Her eyes flared bright red, revealing more clues to her form. “No one has ever resisted my temptation!”

The Vampire shook his arms to regain his composure. “Consider me the exception that proves the rule,” he replied.

The demon growled.

“Shut up,” he commanded. He went to a small desk and picked up a business card. “As per our deal, you now belong to me.” He turned and looked at the swirling black mist. “You’ve shown that you can assume a human shape-do it. But not that one. If you ever take her form again, I will feed you to my Angel.”

She growled again, but the curtain of night drew back to reveal a girl of five foot six. Blood red hair kissed the pale flesh of her shoulders. Green eyes shone with defiance. And, as was fitting a newborn, the demon was completely nude.

Suffer handed her the card. “I have no use for you in my Castle, but my club is always looking for new blood.”

The demon girl seethed. “Never!”

The Vampire growled, his eyes glowing dangerously bright. “Today. Tomorrow. And for all eternity. Am I clear?”

Her eyes still held him, but she fell silent.

“I said, ‘Am I clear?’”

“Yes…master,” she spat.

“Phone on,” he commanded. There was a beep to indicate the phone was awaiting the next cue. “Call Lotus.” A brief paused was followed by a holographic image of Lotus’ face; she was sitting in her office at the club.

“Evening, Suffer,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m sending a new girl your way, Lotus. I’m warning you, though, she’s no push over.”

Lotus looked over his shoulder at the girl standing behind him. “None of the slaves you send me ever are.”

“I am sure you will manage. Her name is …” Suffer glanced back at the demon. “Noir.”

“Send her over; I could use another girl on the floor. Just sold one last night.”

“She’ll be right over.”

“Alright then. Talk to you later.”

The image winked out and Suffer turned to Noir.

“What am I supposed to do?” she huffed.

“Do what comes naturally…within reason. Now, go to the address on the card and behave yourself.”

“Yes, master,” she said, begrudgingly then she vanished in a cloud of inky black smoke.

As soon as the smoke was gone, the lock on the balcony doors snapped open. He went back out into the night, chasing the last vestiges of the memory that had been so rudely interrupted.
#
"I was just thinking that it was the most beautiful sight in the world, but it's just been upstaged," he said, caressing her cheek with his palm.

She smiled and leaned against him. "I love you so much," she said.
#
“Master?”

The sound of Rayven’s voice banished the vision like a dream before the dawn. Only her words lingered like the last wisps of smoke from an extinguished candle.

“I love you so much…”
#
Rayven padded down the hall to her master’s bedroom. In her hands she carried a silver tray upon, which sat two golden chalices each filled to the rim with her blood.

Passing through the open door, she found her master standing on the balcony, staring into the night. Shadow was nowhere in evidence.

“Master?” she called.

He did not respond.

She moved closer to the balcony doors and called again. “Master?”

Still no response. Lord Suffer seemed to be in some sort of trance. He stood rigid, unmoving, his hands gripping the iron railing as if he was afraid he would fall.

Her concern growing, Rayven called again, louder this time.

“What?” he asked.

“I brought the drinks as you commanded, master. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Has Lady Shadow gone?”

“She has.”

“Master, are you sure you are all right?”

“I said as much already; do not make me repeat myself, girl.”

“Yes, master. I’m sorry.”

“Venga aca, perrita.”

Rayven, stepped quickly across the room and out onto the balcony. Without warning, she was snatched up into his arms, sending the tray and the goblets spilling across the terrace. She inhaled sharply as his fangs pierced her soft neck. Dangling helplessly in his arms, under the watchful moon, the blood slave drew shallow, ragged breaths while her master drank his fill of her. With her blood went her fear, her pain, her doubts. Suddenly, they were the only two people in the whole world.

“You? You are a black shard, a perfect little piece of him. Perfectly sharp. Perfectly dark. When he is burning in Hell, you will be there beside him.”

The Angel was right. No matter how many other slaves he had, no matter how many women came and went, she was his shard, his perfectly dark shard.

She would gladly burn with him.

Then something unexpected happened. All at once a wall of impenetrable darkness fell about Rayven, and her mind was assailed by a searing blast of bitter hatred, burning anger, and something else. She saw something there in the darkness glimmering like a lone star in the night sky.

Someway, somehow, the Werewolf had touched the Vampire’s mind only to be crushed by the black wave of his loathing. Her soul drowning in an ocean of seething malice, Rayven tossed her head back and screamed.

For a brief moment, master and slave became one.

When he finally set her down, she swooned as the dark tide receded from her soul. Finally, Rayven looked up at her master, but his gaze was cast far afield. With an absent wave of his hand, she was dismissed.

Slipping from the room without a sound, Rayven closed the door behind her.

Remnants of hatred and rage still lingered in her mind like ghosts, making it a struggle to collect her thoughts, but soon the soft sounds of Tena’s sobs led her back to reality. She had heard them before when she was bringing master the drinks and had ignored them easily. Now that she found herself without an excuse, the sounds of the Angel’s misery were not so readily dismissed.

Nor were the memories of all times Tena had come to her aid.

Was it not Tena who had saved her from Michael, who had healed her wounds so she would no longer be invisible to her master, who had brought her breakfast that very morning-even if it was cold?
Rayven wasn’t prepared to change her attitude toward the Angel, but one fact was inescapable; she owed Tena, and the Werewolf did not like to be in anyone’s debt.

Her mind made up, Rayven followed the glow of Tena’s halo down the darkened corridor. Sinking to her knees, she gently wrapped her arms around the Angel.

Caught unaware, Tena’s wings fluttered, but quickly relaxed as she leaned into her sister’s embrace, thankful for the comfort no matter the source. “I hate him,” she said. “I hate him. I hate him.”

Rayven ignored her urge to rebuke the Angel, recounting her recent experience instead.
#
When he was alone, Lord Suffer turned from the balcony and crossed the room. When he pressed his hand against a panel in the wall, it glowed white, then slid up revealing a small alcove.
“I tell you, sis, there was something there,” said Rayven. “In the midst of all that darkness, there was something…bright.”
From here, he withdrew a red jewelry box that contained a slender, golden chain. Draping it across his palm, he opened the antique heart shaped locket to reveal a picture of him.
Tena wiped her eyes and shook her head. “You’re mistaken.”
There was a woman in his arms, her sapphire eyes sparkling, her golden tresses draped over his arm.
“Our master is a swirling abyss of anger and malice. All he knows is pain. He can’t even love himself, much less another human being.”
"I miss you," he said, clutching the locket to his empty chest. "I miss you so much."


The End