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kpopchangedme · 5 years

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Nocturna: Part V [M]

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You | Im Jaebeom & You

Word Count: 5.4k

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

Your eyes are shut, brows creased in concentration, sweat pearls on your forehead. All you can hear is the sound of the two wolves’ beating hearts behind you; the bird yelling at the squirrel in the sycamore tree; someone rummaging in the Castrum’s kitchen; and…

You tilt your head, focusing. Unfortunately, right when you’re about to get it the Beta behind breaks the moment.

“Come on…” Minho scoffs, irritated. “Louder Yeji, I’m dying over here!”

On the other side of the Castrum ground, several miles away, a crystal high-pitched giggle echoes. One that you hear perfectly. You must actively fight your urge to run over and murder the younger wolf. You aren’t sure why, but it’s inherent, you simply cannot stand the girl.

“Is she even saying something?” You glare at Minho, and his eyes narrow in dislike at your animosity. His rank is way above yours, for now at least, and he’s been tolerant so far since you’re acclimating. It doesn’t mean he’ll always let your rudeness slide, you know that.

“Yes,” Youngjae assures, sitting on a wood bench with an open illustrated book on his knees, “again. What is Yeji saying?”

“Do you even need me?” Minho whines, “We’ve been at it for hours!”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” The Delta points out, flipping a page. Minho pouts, craving being elsewhere, anywhere. He despises you and the feeling is very mutual.

You aren’t dumb, you know why they’re all training with you today, it’s not because they enjoy your company. It’s obviously Chan who asked them to keep an eye on you. You haven’t spoken to each other since that day he fought with the Omegas, but he’s still your mate, and somehow he cares. The following morning you woke up to find out he and Jackson had left for a ‘mission’ somewhere. Chan didn’t even bother saying goodbye. He either hates you now or believes you wouldn’t even have seen him. You might have… You’ve been feeling especially shitty since that day. There's a knot in your stomach, and you know it isn't about your bond. It's him. Even if you are rightfully angry, your old friend is the only thing that feels like home here. That’s why you’re trying to take your training more seriously these days, you need to belong. You are doing your best... But that Beta and that Epsilon are getting on your nerves, always laughing when you’re messing up! Earlier, you couldn’t distinguish colours on brightly lit targets, and they had a field trip mocking you.

Honestly, out of your five senses, your view has changed the most since the bite. It has decreased dramatically in the daylight, so you’re having trouble with colours, but you can see in perfect darkness. Also, your field of vision is way broader than it used to be. Even with Minho and Youngjae standing in your back, you can see them clearly.

“Yeji, focus.” Youngjae orders, not even raising his gaze from his book. “No, not louder, she needs to learn.”

“But she’s so damn slow.” Yeji whines, 3 miles away. “It’s tragic Chan’s stuck with her. I can’t understand what he see-”

“Watch it, glob of snot!” Your lips stretch to uncover your teeth and a weird sound births at the back of your throat.

Behind, Minho’s mouth falls open. “The pup's hearing seems fine after all, she’s just very selective about it.”

“Good.” This time, the kind Delta stands to join you. “After tomorrow night, you’ll be able to hear that from double the distance!” Youngjae playfully hits you with his book, and your cheeks warm. You feel weirdly proud, gratified to have managed to do this little.

“Will he be...” His brows raise and you stop, looking down at the tip of your boots in the grass, too embarrassed.

“The whole pack always goes out as one, once a month.” Minho replies with a smirk, amused you’re acting coy. “I would actually be excited for your First Full Moon if Chan wasn’t there to damage control.”

“Why?” You frown, unsure if a first transformation is anything special to watch. You’ve heard about the pain of the first turn, but not much after their ‘it feels amazing’ usual speech. You are genuinely curious.

“I’d love to watch you go berserk.” Minho snarls sarcastically, making Youngjae close both eyes disheartened. “Given your considerate nature, I bet you'd obliterate an entire villa-”

“I’d obliterate you first, wimp!” Vexed, you jump forward until you’re almost against the Beta's chest. You thought he was giving you advice or some sensitive information at last. Turns out he was just pushing your buttons once more. Every werewolf has been irritated and sensitive today. Anyway, ever since the bite, you’ve been continuously picking up fights.

“Try me.” The triggered older wolf uncovers his canines, holding your glare. He’s threatening without the need of a growl, Minho is still one of the pack’s warriors.

“In its own time.” Youngjae stretches an arm to pull him back, not the least frightened bt the animosity between you two.

“Yeah, challenge me soon, puppy.” The cocky Beta steps away, his weird dire smile still plastered on. “Let’s see you go at it. An Alpha is only as strong as his Lead Huntress after all.”

“Jackson doesn’t have one, but you still run around with your tail between your legs whenever he barks!”

“Careful or you’ll never even make it to your First Moon, bitch!” Minho’s jaw snaps, and you snort, remaining unimpressed. There it is; that word again. “And we do have a Lead Huntress, trust me. You’re nothing compared to her.”

Youngjae steps between you two once more for the confrontation to end. You notice others have already started gathering at the entrance of the castle and on the outskirts of the wood. All lycanth really seem to love a good clash. You don’t even ponder on Minho’s cryptic words about the Alpha, you’re too mad to focus. Perhaps it’s real, maybe your level of irritation and hostility has more to do with the imminent Full Moon than any of your real frustrations.

“The sun is setting.” Youngjae points out blankly right as Sana jogs up to you. “You should make it back to your room, y/n. You’ll need a lot of sleep. Tomorrow’s a pretty big day.”

Agreeing, you leave and no wolf makes a sound as you walk by. You still see the glimmer in their gaze though. Something like elation. No one approved of you the first week, but now they’re curious. They wonder about you picking fights with both Chan and Minho. Will you be a courageous and fierce Lead Huntress? Or are you simply as dumb as a post for continuously angering two of their most dangerous Betas?

The pack doesn’t know yet, but this whole mess is bound to get interesting.

You don’t see anyone in the East Wing on your way to your room. As soon as you enter, you begin to wash off the traces of your long training day. Exhausted, you nearly miss the soft thumping on your door when someone knocks. Fighting back your smile, you hurry to change your dark shirt-gown for a clean nightgown. No doubt that this is Chan finally coming back and... For some reason, it is a relief. You’re oddly excited to tell him all about your progress. Unfortunately, one thing is sure as you open the door, that visitor is nothing like who you were expecting.

The newcomer is wearing all-black, special silky clothes, he’s one with the obscurity. Even with your perfect night vision, you can hardly distinguish his silhouette. There’s a mask from the same fabric covering up his entire face except for his sanguine eyes. No wonder you haven't heard him coming by, no wolf would be as quiet in their own quarters. Your mouth opens in shock as the undead gazes up and down at you. He’s lean and short, barely as tall as you. The first time you faced a vampire you were too human to notice, but this time it hits you hard; his scent of death.

“Y/n?” He inquires, voice as uninterested as it gets. Before you can decide if you should scream or reply, the ominous intruder tilts his head, perceivably. “It stinks of him in here, so I guess you're her.” His eyes skim over your body once more, severe. “The king has called upon you.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“The vampire king.” He repeats, accentuating every syllable like you’re dumb. “Now.”

“What if I don’t go?”

You cross your arms over your chest defiantly. Jaebeom has ignored you for days, what can he possibly have to say to you? You’re changing tomorrow, you don’t have to be at his beck and call, your deal was a one-time thing. You’ve moved on. The vampire snorts at your reply, apparently entertained.

In an instant, you’re gagged and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’s indifferent as you struggle, kicking and biting. Without having turned and reached your full potential yet, you’re no match for his strength. Your captor moves fast, it takes him under a minute to cross the entire Castrum. It’s evident he isn’t taking you to the West living quarters you've been to before. Right before these stairs, he forks in a secret passageway, entering a dark corridor you are unfamiliar with. When he finally stops, you’re buried under the castle, so deep within, that you can’t even hear what’s going on upstairs anymore. If you were to cry or yell, you bet no wolf would hear. You're not entirely sure they'd come to your rescue anyway... The vampire tosses you on your feet, taking out the cloth he shoved in your mouth. As you're coughing for air, he knocks on a door that opens instantly.

“Mark,” Jaebeom’s eyes go from you to his scion, "Were you seen?" You haven’t looked at him yet, too busy glaring and growling at the second rude vampire. Mark. No wonder your fellow wolves don’t like them if they all act like such entitled assholes.

“It was boring and too easy. Even a newborn would've been able to get her, you didn't need a Shadow, Jeonha.” Mark’s words drip self-importance, making your skin crawl. Speaking, he pulls down his mask, revealing his diaphanous features. He is just as inhumanly perfect as the other undead you've seen so far. "Although, I think I vexed your pet..."

It takes you half a second to realize he's talking about you.

“I’m not his, you filthy leech!”

“Oi, are you gonna bite me!?” The bloodsucker laughs, reaching to poke the middle of your forehead. You must be a fast learner because your current warning growl has nothing to do with how you were begging for your life when you first met one of them. If you don’t notice the slight change, Jaebeom certainly does. “Bad pooch.” Ok. That asshole is just straight-up asking to be gutted.

“Just wait a few days...” Your eyes reflect the torches, casting a supernatural light on the scene. “I’ll add your name to my list of priorities, Mark.” His smile turns to a thin line.

“Leave us,” done, the king dismisses his minion, "discreetly." Though he’s obviously annoyed, Mark obeys, hissing as he slowly walks back the narrow passageway. You don’t stop holding his glare until he’s gone. “What was that,” Jaebeom presses once you are alone, highly annoyed, “are the moon mood swings really that bad?”

“Perhaps I just hate being treated like a possession.” When you turn to face the king, he has already disappeared into a close dim-lit room. You ponder on whether to go back upstairs or follow, hesitating. In the end, you’re too intrigued to do what’s best and you enter, though keeping your guard up.

You haven’t seen Jaebeom since your first and last night, and you had forgotten how beautiful he is up close. From his pellucid skin to his bloody dead irides. You feel a betraying shiver run down your back, remembering how his body felt all over yours. If you thought you could face him without any second thoughts, you were wrong. The hypnotic power he seemed to have on you hasn’t wavered the slightest. You could still run, but curiosity anchors you down.

When you enter, the vampire king is standing in the middle of this tiny darkroom, ominous. There’s a chair and a twin size bed in a corner as only furniture, and it smells of mould. Obviously, this isn’t his usual hang out spot. This is a misery chamber, you expected a secret office or something. This is closer to a dungeon than... Oh, turning to take another look at the door again, you notice the large silvery bars on a square framed window.

“What is this place?” Feeling stuffy and trapped all of a sudden, you take a step back.

“My dungeon, a secluded place. I thought it better to talk privately.” Jaebeom replies swiftly, like forcing you down here is perfectly mundane. His motives remain unclear, but you get what he means; walls here don't have ears. You already noted that. “We used it during the war, but I doubt Jackson remembers his old room and my leniency. If he did, that flea-bag wouldn’t go around doing as he pleases half as much.”

“He's my Alpha now, careful.” You cross your arms over your chest and he raises a brow.

“Forgive me,” Jaebeom apologizes, overly sarcastic, “I thought you only had his tail-wagger’ back.”

“Chan is a legacy Alpha,” you’re defensive at his evident disdain. “Won’t be tail-waggin’ forever.”

“Why do you care?!” Jaebeom snaps harshly, and his aggressive tone makes you flinch, “Defending him? Last I heard, you hated the dog for what he did to you!”

After that, you remain silent, too stunned. He is right, and you are still angry at Chan for taking your humanity. It’s just that… You've always cared deeply for him, and now whatever is said about him reflects on you. You’ve been inextricably linked since he marked you. It’s not something you can explain with words to an outsider. You just… Feel it in your bones. Jaebeom sighs, turning to press his open palms to one of the stone walls. “When you’re as old as me, you start to forget past enemies. I’ve seen a lot of werewolves go by, I never thought I should care about their bastards.” When you don't bite, the king presses you again: “I hadn’t made a mistake like that in many centuries.”

“A mistake like me,” you breathe out hollowly, starting to piece things together.

“Yes...” He shakes his head, still facing the wall. “I messed up by intervening in the woods. I single-handedly jeopardized the status of the peace treaty for you. Jinyoung formally castigated me in front of the Council.” The vampire from that night? You frown, vaguely remembering his cool demeanour throughout the confrontation with the Alpha. “I was sent away during the arraignments. I’ll be officially sanctioned tomorrow, I had never received blame from my Court before you. Not it over a thousand years of reign.”

He says it like this mess is all your fault. “Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to me, then.” You try not to sound affected. Despite you, his words hurt... And you really don’t want to wonder about why right now.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jaebeom blurts out fatally, turning to hold your gaze. “I wasn’t able to bring you home. I couldn't stay true to my word, and keep you safe.”

“Consider yourself freed from our deal, Jeonha.”

You need to leave now.

Before you’re overwhelmed before you feel like crying for everything you’ve lost. It’s not like the vampire could have changed anything anyway, or if he could have honoured that deal in the first place anyway. Apparently, a choice was made for you long before that dreadful day you were marked. When you reach for the exit, Jaebeom’s steel grip wraps around your wrists, holding you still. It was the worst idea coming in, perhaps he won’t let you leave. This was a dungeon for a wolf, and no one knows you're here.

“There’s another thing too.” He whispers, awfully closer. There’s the almost familiar coldness of his body on your back, and your heartbeat quickens, betraying. His effect is undeniable, his magnetism paralyzing. “I don’t care about what my Court said. I still wanted to see you.” His nose brushes your hair, and you know it’s making its way down to your neck. You’ve been there before, only this time, you are sure he won’t kill you. “You smell the same, you’re still more human than wolf.”

Jaebeom says this like it’s a compliment, and you shut your eyes. “So what?”

He presses his stone chest to your back, unbothered by your harsh tone. “My Shadow heard you ask about me… And I tried to neglect it, but I still have this…” He pauses then, and despite everything, the memory of your shared night haunts you. “... Craving.”

Blood, you realize. This is not about you at all. Defeated, you pull your hair aside to fully expose the little bit of collarbone your nightgown isn’t covering. He can do whatever, you won’t fight him this time, don't care if it hurts. Then he’ll probably let you go. Jaebeom lets his index run down your spine, and you clench your teeth, expecting his bite any moment.

“After you turn-.”

“I know.” You cut in sharply, eager to get this over with. His arm slides around your waist. “You hate dogs.” The vampire presses his lips on your neck, not on the same spot as last time. Again, instead of biting, he breathes you in, mouth wandering. This isn’t what you want, you shouldn’t do this. “Drink.” Frozen still, you don’t bother trying to sound like yourself.

“No,” Jaebeom hushes in your ear, absolutely shameless, “like last time.”

“I don’t want to,” you state, authoritative. The idea of betraying Chan like this makes your stomach turn. Even if you are angry, he’s still your friend and your… That. Then, there’s the rest of the pack too, and what they said about wolves with vampires. What Minho called you earlier.

“Is that so?” Jaebeom snorts, hand reaching to cup your sex over your nightgown. You catch a breath as he hums, satisfied by your reaction. “I can smell you.” Shit. You’re screwed. Already, your body is betraying you, and you press closer to his palm, craving friction. His hand doesn’t oblige though. Instead, he takes it back, letting it wander up until it finds the strings tying the collar of your long gown. You think he’ll open it, but he surprises you by spinning you in his arms. His grip closes on your wrists, holding them up. “You wear his clothes, but his scent isn't on you.”

You don’t need Jaebeom to say his name. “He comes back tomorrow.”

Something in his gaze darkens like you’ve made a mistake: “I know, I approve every dogs’ outing. Mark was right, he shouldn’t have made it so easy.” Smirking, Jaebeom releases you, apparently very amused by something. “Now that I know who you are for Jackson’s successor… I want you even more.”

‘W-What?” You don’t move, don’t even blink when his fingers slide up the interior of your thigh. This time, it’s skin to skin, under your loose clothing. He stops centimetres away from where your legs meet. “We can’t… My pack-”

Lowering himself to press a kiss on your lips, Jaebeom interrupts your protests. He doesn’t give you an answer, but you forget about everything as soon as his mouth opens yours. Your mind numbs. You forget you’re angry, forget the pack and everything about who the creature kissing you is. Even Chan is eclipsed from your thoughts for the first time in days. Jaebeom pulls back after a while, one hand to the wall and the other frozen still on your thigh.

“New deal,” he announces, voice-controlled. He’s doing way better than you. You're panting, hanging on his every word with apprehension. He's like a drug, clogging up your brain and stealing away your better judgement. “You owe me since I got into trouble trying to help you.”

“How should I repay you?” You ask in a trance. You sound more innocent than you truly are. It’s obvious what he wants, of course you know. You can feel him already hardening against you. Right now, you want him too. You don’t care about anything else.

“I forgot I have to show you everything, tidbit.” Jaebeom smiles, ruby eyes creasing. “Don’t move.” It’s not like you were planning on going anywhere anymore. You’re already too turned on to know what’s best. Sensing you’re obeying, Jaebeom kneels on the ground before you to roll up your gown. “See?” He looks up, pushing your feet apart with his knees. You seem to have learned from your first time because you don’t move to cover your sex. Jaebeom licks his lips, gaze roaming your exposed body hungrily. “I knew you were wet...”

His cold hands grip your knees to spread you and you lean back against the stone wall, weak. He hums, nose brushing your inner thighs. The vampire king kisses them one by one, making sure not to leave an inch of soft sensitive skin untouched as he climbs. If he claimed you were wet before, it was nothing. This time you know what to expect from him and you’re shivering from anticipation. Your folds are already swollen and glistening when he finally reaches his goal. Jaebeom doesn’t lose any time, icy tongue sliding up your slit once, then twice. You grip his shoulders to remain still and he lets out a hollow chuckle, entertained. His mouth works wonder, it’s even better standing like that above him. You pant, hips rocking on his face despite yourself. You don’t have any self-control whatsoever. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the imminent Full Moon or your exacerbate senses, but everything feels more intense; anger, impatience, and now pleasure, desire… Jaebeom helps himself with a finger, and it’s way more comfortable than last time. You’re so relaxed that he adds another one, pumping them leisurely into you.

Without stopping, he sits back on his heels, raising your right leg on his shoulder. Jaebeom presses kisses in your inner thigh, looking for something that he finds almost too soon. Unlike the other night, there’s no warning or build up before he bites you. His flaming eyes find yours when his fangs pierce your skin, and you yelp in surprise. Already blood drips, overflowing his mouth. Jaebeom sucks – entranced – he wasn’t too harsh this time. He cannot heal you with vampire blood, not when you’re lycanth. His fingers are still working your core, and the pleasure mixed with the burn is far from unpleasant. Your head hits the wall when you throw it back, pushing for more friction against his hand. He holds you still, sucking harsher on your thigh. His first bite is so shallow that your flow to the wound is already dwindling.

After a moment he gives up, he wants and needs more, but there are plenty of pretty veins on your body. Some are easier to conceal than others though that’s not what he wants at all. Not tonight. Not when you belong to the next Alpha. Jaebeom wants a statement, one that ensures the balance, retribution. The king hates being ridiculed, and they are far worst ways to send a message than this. At least you’re both going to enjoy yourselves tonight. He’ll make sure you get off, just like last time.

You don’t know that of course, but even then, could you have resisted him?

It’s your turn to take the lead when Jaebeom stops drinking from your thigh. You tug at his nape, forcing him up and interrupting his lapping of your wound. This time, you don’t mind the blood when your mouths meet.

Your new kiss tastes of metal, but it’s delicious.

Wild.

____

The East Wing is deserted when you emerge from the depth of the Castrum. It’s to be expected, to limit interactions between species and risk useless frictions, they are many specific rules. Werewolves aren’t allowed outside their sanctuary walls after sunset unless they have special permissions, so they usually limit themselves to their rooms. One night of freedom per month is granted of course; the Full Moon. No similar rule applies to vampires. It might seem unfair, but most can’t stand the sun and normally rest during the day anyway. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t bump into any other lycanth when you enter the common room and climb the stone stairs leading to the living quarters. Everyone is in bed, getting ready for tomorrow’s night hunt and celebrations of your first transformation.

Still, you are extra careful not to get caught when walking up the corridor, passing dozens of wooden doors along the way. You can hear the soft breathing of the sleeping wolves, but also the cracking pages of a book being read, and the scratching of graphite on paper. You furtively reach the door to your room, opening it and praying the hinges don’t betray you. They don’t.

Letting out a breath of relief, you enter. You allow yourself to make more noise once you are where you were assumed to be all along. Immediately, you stretch your sore body. Wow. That was something else entirely. You hadn’t realized Jaebeom was being so attentive on your first night. This time he was less considerate, not that you’re complaining. Smiling, you rub your thumb on the bite marks on your left wrist. You have many, you’ll have to conceal all of them tomorrow by wearing something like a long-sleeve linen shirt and pants.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the mass on your bed at all. It’s when he sits up that you gasp, so shocked you drop the hairbrush you had just picked up on the carpet. It bounces twice before rolling on the stone floor, the faint sounds seemingly resonating throughout the whole wing. Chan looks half-dead, as though he hasn’t slept ever since he last fought with you.

“Hello,” he says, voice alarmingly placid.

You feel yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze. “You’re back.”

He drops his chin to his chest like a prayer. “I came early since I was worried...” His words hit hard, and you feel the bitter sting of guilt in your chest. Somehow you spent the whole week waiting for his return... Now it’s too late, you messed up. “I missed you,” the wolf-man snorts, rolling his eyes back, “so much. I kept wondering how you were holding up without me. Laughable isn’t I?” When he looks your way again, the bite marks on your body itch like liabilities. “You seem to be doing perfectly fine.”

“Chan,” you breathe out unevenly, heart as heavy as the moon in your chest. Whatever bliss you felt from your escapade with Jaebeom is completely gone. This is why you tried to leave. It feels like you committed high treason. Perhaps you truly did, that's the scariest thought. You should tell him you didn't go to Jaebeom willingly, it just happened. Tell him you hadn’t thought of the king for days. Instead, you let out a series of incoherence; “It’s not… I’m-”

“You smell of death.” He points out, weirdly serene. You both know it means him. “I’m exhausted, y/n. Let’s not fight, let's just go to bed.”

“H-Here?” Your eyes round, staring at him under the covers.

“It’s our den, our bed.” Chan lays down again. “You can sleep elsewhere if you can’t stand me... You seem to have other options.”

Silence settles after that, you walk up to the empty side of the canopy bed, miserable. How could you leave, even if you wanted to? The mattress protests under your weight. Sitting guardedly, you keep an eye on the young man with his back turned on you. Chan doesn’t comment and as you lay over the covers. Your heartbeat is deafening.

You are so taken aback when he breaks his muteness after over ten minutes, that you wonder if you heard right; “I don’t want us to be like them.”

“Who?” You ask, turning on your side to face him.

“Them,” he repeats as though you are supposed to figure it out. He rolls too, but his eyes remain glued to the ceiling.

This whole situation is strangely reminiscent of these nights you talked for hours, both laying on your back, staring at stars. You often went on trips together with a hunting crew from Ianua and other villages. You and Chan used to discuss anything from your childhoods to dumb stuff. Of course, back then, you had no idea he was way older than he looked, perhaps even older than gran. You had no idea he wasn’t human at all. Come to think of it, you wonder how he managed all these trips and why. Was it just to be with you? Does ‘deceive your future mate under the false pretense of friendship’ qualify for outings permissions?

“Them; Jackson and Ryujin.” You stop your breathing altogether when Chan clarifies. Ryujin, as in the queen? Shit. You had forgotten all about her... “Lycanth, we are loyal to a fault, devoted by nature. We…” He glances your way, having at least the decency of being embarrassed by himself. “... Mate for life… With our one partner.”

But you aren’t listening to him. Your head is spinning, Jackson and Ryujin. What do they have to do with each other? Isn’t she wedded to Jaebeom? Although it’s quite obvious his vows don’t keep him from sleeping with whoever he wants, whenever.

Any of you take issues of my personal life? The Alpha and Minho’s cryptic words suddenly mean much more. Jackson has a mate, trust me.

“The parasites are nothing like us.” Chan goes on as you piece things together, sounding spiteful. “They take what they covet without hesitation, they use others for their means. They are ruth-”

“I get it.” You interrupt, fighting back your irritation. Ok, now you are done feeling bad for him. No one ever explains things to you clearly in this damn castle. You’re always expected to do what is asked and understand things later on. “You hate vampires.”

“No. You don’t get it, you aren't hearing me y/n.” Chan sighs and the sound is cavernous deep. He turns to you, serious. “Vampires don’t feel like mortals or werewolves. You can’t trust him, no matter how much intimacy you share, it doesn-”

“I understand that you like me, Chan.” You’re careful not to raise your voice when you cut him off again. The last thing you want is this to escalate in another full-on fight. “And I am so sorry you feel that way, but...” You stop yourself, reading the pain on his face.

“It is my business because you’re my m-... Best friend...” He whispers, winded as though he ran for miles. “You are bitter – rightfully so – and you need time… But I’m not gonna spend my whole life picking up the pieces after him. I won’t stand sharing you. I don’t want us to be like them, I can’t.”

Though you soften slightly, you turn away to avoid his gaze. You should tell Chan that you don’t think of Jaebeom half as much as you think of him when he isn’t near, but you can’t. You’re too ashamed and resentful, both at yourself and at him.

“Maybe you should have considered that before changing me.” It sounds too mean even to you. “You knew me, so you should’ve made the right choice.”

Again, the silence following is louder than words. It takes Chan less time to cut through the tension. When he does, you can tell he's been thinking deeply about this.

“I did consider...” He waits for a few heartbeats before going on, hopeful; “I know you and I’ll wait. I know us, I made the right choice. I’m sorry I brought this up.” Chan sounds so relieved that you can’t help wanting to believe him. “We will never be like them...” There's an infallible faith to his truth.

Even though you’re exhausted, even though tomorrow marks the beginning of your new life. You don’t sleep a wink that night, torn between two fates you neither wanted nor considered before these last two weeks.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

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alyssa-ward · 6 years

Text

Alyssa Ward and the Curse of the Hanged Men

It started with a cup of coffee.

Alyssa sat in the park at Lion’s rest in the early morning, a cup of coffee brewed from the Recluse sitting beside her on the bench, a sandwich of eggs and ham to her other side, and her sketchbook open in her lap as she worked on a new design. That should have been it, a quiet start to her day. Yet she couldn’t help but continue to notice the Kaldorei man nearby, leaning against one of the lamp posts in the park, struggling to keep his eyes open.

The man looked a mess, pale, bags under his eyes, hair all a tangle. He wore the garb and uniform of the Night’s Watch of Duskwood, but for all appearances, he’d watched for far too many nights.

“Y’look like y’need this more than I do.” Alyssa lifted the coffee cup, gesturing towards him with it.

That elicited a chuckle. The man making a crack about how rude it was to call out his obviously exhausted appearance. Still, he took her offer all the same, sitting beside her on the bench to nurse the cup of coffee while they talked. It came to light as they spoke that he’d befallen some sort of curse while researching a series of murders in Duskwood. He spoke briefly of a legend involving the Hanged Men of Deadwind pass. Even now outside and above the tower of Karazhan, bodies swayed by the neck from dead trees, long forgotten. Myths and rumors had abound for years that they would come to life and attack passer bys. Only a myth.

Curses, the purview of Witches and Warlocks. Not exactly Alyssa’s area of expertise, her knowledge focused on demons, but even so, “‘ave y’considered tryin’ t’find someone ‘o knows curses ‘ere in Stormwind? Anyone that might be able t’elp figure out ‘ow t’break it?”

He hadn’t, of course, and for the obvious reasons. The same reason she hadn’t said as much of herself so far. How do you openly ask for a Warlock in Stormwind while avoiding the stockade?

Alyssa sighed, “Right...I can ‘elp you. M’like as not an idiot f’offerin’ it t’a stranger, but y’obviously need it. Don’t make me regret this?”

(Cut for length, and NSFW Violence content below)

As night fell the day following, Alyssa found herself riding slowly through Westfall towards the bridge that lead to Duskwood. Far too many of the problems in her life have centered around this particular path. Damien. Raen. Mackerel. Name after name of issues and complications that have walked this very road. Yet here she found herself.

She’d met Grey again, the Night Watchman from the day before earlier. Her night previous spent pouring through her books on curses, an aspect of her ‘profession’ if it could be called such, that she had largely neglected. The description he gave of his condition gave her some points to work with. When Grey slept, his dreams were vivid and vibrant, as though seeing through the eyes of another creature. When he slept in Duskwood while researching these deaths, the eyes he saw through crept through familiar woods, drawing ever closer to him, startling him awake.

When he came to Stormwind to seek aid, and slept here, the eyes stalked the outside of the Walls, working their way into the city. Whatever had done this to the man was stalking him. Either closing in his dreams, or relentlessly pursuing, she wasn’t sure, but ultimately the recommendation she made was simple. “Y’need t’sleep. Let me watch over you. M’pets and I will stop whatever comes. M’specialization is summonin’. Give me access t’the thing ‘untin’ you, and I can either stop it, or figure out what controls it.”

The man, exhausted as he was agreed, willing to try anything at this point, including put his faith in this odd practitioner of fel magic who so good naturedly offered her aid. So they agreed to meet at the border to Duskwood, he wished to retrieve some supplies from the Watch, and she needed a place she could fully practice her art without risk of bringing the guard down on them.

So she found herself on that road. Up ahead the wooden bridge that separated Westfall from Duskwood. She spurred her mount on, more brazen about her magic here. Haag, one of her two hounds materialized beside her, shedding its usual cloak of invisibility as it romped alongside the horse. Vix, her other, was already ahead, watching over the Kaldorei.

Even as she approached, there was a sense of something wrong. Flickers in the corners of her eyes, like silhouettes moving around her. The distant chiming of bells, though she was certain they were too far from Darkshire proper to hear them from here. As she closed, she noticed a form slumped against one of the bridge supports. Grey sitting there, had found his exhaustion got the best of him, and the man slept.

“Idiot. Y’were supposed t’wait f’me.” She sighed as she hopped off her horse. There was supposed to be more time to prepare. The warlock knelt in the dust, quickly sketching out the strongest summoning circle she could produce in short order.

The bells chimed louder as she worked, speaking in low demonic, holding up a soulstone. Rebecca Mills. That was the name on the gem when she took it out of her collection. Never use one without remembering where it came from. “Thank you f’this Miss Mills.” Muttered as part of her incantation.

A roar across the bridge, and her hazel eyed gaze flickered up for only a moment to take in the thing she faced as part of this. Mostly human in form, with a burlap sack over its head. A rope hung from its neck like a noose, and its hands elongated out into wicked claws. Another roar, and it charged, not at the sleeping man, but at her.

Alyssa’s palm slammed down in the centre of the circle, smashing the Soul gem into the structure, and from it sprang forth a Wrathguard, ripped from the Twisting Nether to this plane, the most powerful demon she could reasonably maintain control over. “Protect me.” She shouts a quick command as the hanged man’s claws tear along the bridge.

As quickly, it ended. Grey’s eyes snapped open in a panic, and the creature vanished in a puff of smoke just before the Demon could meet its charge. Alyssa stood braced, felfire already forming in her palms.

“Alyssa, I’m sorry. I saw through its eyes as it charged.”

“Y’should’ve stayed asleep. I could ‘ave andled it.” She sighed, moving to offer him a hand up. “At least I know what it is now. It looked physical, touchable. We can fight that.”

The man still wanted his supplies though, and to see this handled at the source, the place he was certain he was cursed. Deadwind pass. So they walked through the night.

They spoke at length as they traveled. He told her about being part of the Night Watch, of the creatures that lurked in Duskwoods shadows. She told him of fighting in Hillsbrad, of surviving on the edge of Alliance lands.

He confessed he wasn’t sure she wasn’t crazy, and could actually help him until the moment he woke, seeing her standing ready for battle with a powerful demon at her side. That meeting in the park, she looks so innocuous.

For Alyssa though, this project was invigorating. She felt alive, excited. In the months since she’d come to Stormwind, her life’s complications had become about interpersonal relationships. Subterfuge, saying the right things to the right people. Tact and complication, nothing the last four years of her life had prepared her for. This though. Summoning demons to fight monsters in the night, this is Alyssa’s wheelhouse, what she’s good at.

(Some suggested listening for the rest of this post. Lady Maria - Bloodborne The Old Hunters OST)

“Why are you helping me?” The man stops her at the entrance to Deadwind pass as her Wrathguard scouts ahead.

“Y’needed it.”

“Is it really that simple?”

Alyssa sighs, “Y’needed specialized ‘elp that not many can give you. Y’were in a dire situation that could ‘ave ended badly at any time, well before y’could find anyone else t’do it. If I turned you away, y’could be dead by now, I couldn’t ‘ave that on my conscious. M’not as good a person as m’brother is, but I still want t’make ‘im proud. Y’don’t learn what I know without ‘avin regrets, ‘elpin’ you solve this lets me balance m’books as it were.”

He seems satisfied with the answer, “Well I owe you after this.” He leads the way deeper into the pass, past hanging bodies, and onto the bridge of cracked stone that spans the gap over the canyon below. “Does this work for your purposes?”

“It does, I like a chokepoint. ‘Opefully it comes at us from the Duskwood side, but I can adapt.” She orders the Wrathguard into a defensive stance as she draws fire into her hands.

“Good, I’m so exhausted I could sleep anywhere. I’ll wake if it looks like you’re in danger.”

A nod of assurance from the Warlock, and the man lays himself in the center of the bridge, letting slumber overtake him almost immediately. The exhaustion of his curse, of their travels, carrying him away.

Silhouettes in the corners of her vision and the chiming of bells. Alyssa braces herself, both of her hands dripping liquid felfire. On the Duskwood side of the bridge, the Wrathguard stands ready, massive axes in its hands. The creature hates her for this, but in the moment, that doesn’t matter. At her side, Vix and Haag, her loyal hounds, some of the first demons she summoned, and her constant companions.

The thing crawls up the pass on all fours, claws digging into stone, the rope around its neck dragging along the path. And then another. And then another. The sound of claws on stone pull her attention behind her, and she whirls to find more of the hanged men amassing along the edge of the bridge on the Swamp of Sorrows side. Echoing chunks of climbing creatures sound up the valley, and a brief glance over the edge shows more of them ascending from the pass.

One she felt confident in. This though is well beyond expectations. “They don’t pass you f’anythin’.” She shouts back to the Wrathguard as it sets its massive form to protect one side of the bridge, meeting the first charge with a clash of axe blades, sending ichor and burlap and limbs spattering across the stone.

Trust. People are hard to trust. Demons she controls are easy, the guard may hate her, but it has her back, and so she focuses on her side of the bridge. “Haag, Vix, go.” The felhounds charge forward as the hanged men start to advance. One goes high, the other low as they tackle one of the creatures to the ground together, ripping into it. An arm flies into the gorge, ichor slicks the bridge on that side too.

Alyssa flashes back to the basement in Gilneas so very long ago. Similarly trapped, pinned in by ravenous creatures. Now though she’s so very much more experienced, her mastery of Felfire much more controlled. She pours gouts of liquid fire from her palms, sickly green spraying across Hanged Man after Hanged Man, sending flaming beasts careening over the bridges edge to crash into the ones still climbing, toppling them to the river below. Still they come.

There’s a rumble beneath her feet, the faint sound of cracking stone as more and more of them pile onto the narrow outcropping of earth that connects the two sides of the canyon. A reminder that the bridge is natural, not made. She ignores it, stepping backwards as her and her demons are pressed in closer to the sleeping Kaldorei.

She loses sight of her demonic hounds in the pile, until a whimpered yelp sounds, and she sees one of the Hanged Men lift Haag into the air, impaled through on massive claws. The creature rends her hound, and sends its lifeless body over the edge into the abyss, drawing a startled cry from Alyssa’s lips. “No…” She lays down more fire, forming a wall of Felfire between her and the creatures, and more of them pile against it, burning and charring.

The bridge is slick with ichor, fire, and demon blood, and moment by moment, Alyssa can feel herself weakening. She’s poured too much into this fight already. She needs to wake the Elf, come at this again after some rest, with more help.

Hazel eyes turn for a moment back towards him, just in time to see one axe fall, than the other as the Wrathguard at the other end of the bridge is overwhelmed. Torn to pieces by the creatures. Demonic blood, the smell of copper and the ozone scent of the Twisting Nether as the Wrathguard dies screaming.

The moment of distraction is enough, as one of the hanged men leaps through her wall of flame, tackling the warlock to the ground beside Grey. Her head strikes the stone, dizzying her, sending stars flashing through her eyes. Then a sharp stab of pain as a hand full of claws spike through her shoulder, grinding against bone as they punch through skin and muscle into the bridge below.

“You ‘ave t’wake up,” she shouts in a panic, trying to use another wash of Felfire from her palm shoved into the creature’s burlap covered face. Its other claws rake along her side as it scrambles for purchase. There’s another crack and rumble of earth.

The world collapses. The strain of more bodies and battle as the swarms of Hanged Men flood the tenuous expanse overwhelms it. The bridge crumbles under the weight, sending Alyssa, Grey’s unconscious form, and the Hanged Masses into the canyon below. She has time to shriek in terror, twisting in the air as she plummets, trying to angle herself to miss the jagged rocks that line the narrow river. She can feel her form twist and change as she does so, the adrenaline and panic bringing out the beast within.

The river is choked with bodies and dark ichor. Muddy churned bottom, it’s practically black. The fall feels like it takes forever, the world in slow motion. Time to regret. Time to worry about what Damien will think. About her friends who constantly warn her not to tackle things like this alone.

The warlock strikes water, and the world goes dark.

To be continued obviously.

Mentions to @dardillien-ward and to @kel-greyleaf!

Relevance I’m sure to many people, but Alyssa has at least contacted @alliesweetsong-wra; @thetobaccoman; and a character of @valdim-heyworth as part of leaving on this journey.

(Updated with Grey’s Tumblr)

#alyssaward #monstersanddemons #wowrp #characterdevelopment #alyssayouareagoddamnedidiotstoptakingontheworldalone

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