The basement was silent, save for the faint hum of the glowing knife hovering in the air like a living thing. Kael's body lay limp, his mind trapped between the haze of sleep and something heavier, darker pressing against the edges of his consciousness.
She crouched beside him, her movements deliberate, fluid, and filled with a cruel grace. One hand hovered over his face, a single fingertip tracing along his jaw, pressing just enough to tilt his head upward. Her nail was sharp, glinting faintly in the dim light, a gentle but commanding presence that he could feel even before he was fully aware.
Her eyes met his, piercing through the fog in his mind, dark and merciless, a predator claiming her prey. Her smirk was slow, deliberate, venom curling at the edges as if tasting the fear and curiosity mingling in him.
"Kael…" she whispered, her breath brushing lightly across his skin, low and intimate, almost like a kiss—except it was laced with domination, cruelty, and seduction all at once. "…wake up. Face what has befallen you."
Her fingers didn't move from beneath his jaw, holding him steady, guiding him into awareness. Every nerve in Kael's body shivered under her touch, the lingering warmth of her skin mixed with the chill of command. The knife's faint glow painted streaks of light across her features, her eyes locked on him like twin shards of obsidian.
For a long, slow moment, Kael did not move. His vision swam, a blur of shadows and light, dim and unclear. He felt her presence completely—every curve of her body, the tilt of her head, the deliberate slowness of her movements but could not yet bring his mind into focus.
"Kael…" she murmured again, voice low, thick with promise and threat, "…look at me."
The single fingertip beneath his jaw guided him subtly, and with an almost imperceptible effort, his eyelids fluttered open. At first, the world was a blur of dim shapes and shifting shadows. The chains biting at his wrists, the floor beneath him, the faint glimmer of the hovering knife—all of it hazy, distant, as if filtered through some thick, heavy curtain.
Slowly, painfully, he blinked, trying to bring clarity to his vision. Shapes began to sharpen. The dim light reflected against something impossibly sharp and cruel—the knife, still hovering. And then… her eyes.
Clara's possessed smirk remained locked on him, her gaze inescapable. The fingertip beneath his jaw still held him in place, subtle yet absolute in command, as if saying without words: You cannot look away. You are mine here.
Kael's chest rose and fell rapidly, his mind caught between shock, desire, fear, and something deeper he couldn't yet name. The air around them seemed to hum with a slow, poisonous rhythm, pulling him further into her orbit even as he struggled to think.
Her lips parted slightly, slow, deliberate, as if her whisper alone could bend the world around him. "…Now, Kael," she said, venomous and soft, "…see me. Really see me."
Kael's vision sharpened further, and for the first time since he had passed out, he could feel the full weight of her presence: the curves of her body, the dark elegance in every movement, the predatory tilt of her head, the dangerous smirk that promised pain, pleasure, and domination all at once.
And yet, even as he stared, even as his body responded in ways he could not control, the world was still fractured, dim—like waking from a dream that refused to let go.
Clara leaned ever so slightly closer, her finger still beneath his jaw, her eyes locking on his, and whispered, "…Welcome back, Kael. Now, let us begin."
The chains at his wrists creaked faintly. The knife pulsed with a strange, otherworldly light. And Kael's heart pounded in his chest, caught completely in her spell.
The world dimmed to her eyes, her smirk, and the cruel, deliberate pull she held over him…
...
Kael's eyes blinked into focus, the blur of waking slowly sharpening into a nightmare that felt far too real. The first thing he saw was Clara her face, too close, too perfect, too venomous. Her smirk was slow, deliberate, curling like poison in his veins.
"Mmm… Kael, you're awake."
The sound of her voice made him shudder. His head turned, chains clattering, and only then did the full horror sink in. He was restrained—his wrists bound above him, body stripped bare, vulnerable. His breath quickened, panic rising in his chest.
"Clara… is this—" his voice cracked, throat dry as he tried to swallow the lump in it. "is this what you really meant as… a gift?"
Her response wasn't words at first it was laughter. A soft, hellish laugh that rolled from her lips like smoke, low and sensual but sharp enough to cut him. The kind of laugh that didn't just mock, but claimed. Each note burned his ears, burned into his chest, dark and erotic, making his skin prickle with a mix of dread and… something else he hated himself for.
Kael clenched his fists against the chains, his body trembling. Frustration and shame clawed at him—how could he, in this moment, feel his pulse thundering not only with fear but with a heat he couldn't suppress? His body betrayed him, reacting to her curves, to the intoxicating way she leaned in, blouse half-loose, her breasts almost spilling free as though every movement of hers was designed to undo him.
"Damn it… no…" he muttered under his breath, trying to force his head away, but his eyes kept darting back. Her thighs shifted beneath the hem of her skirt, smooth, glistening, swaying like the devil's temptation itself. His jaw tightened, a bead of sweat running down his temple.
Clara tilted her head, eyes glinting in the dim light. "A gift?" she whispered, her voice sultry, laced with venom. She leaned closer until her breath fanned across his lips. "Oh, Kael… I'm giving you far more than a gift. I'm giving you me. The question is… will you survive it?"
Her fingertip, sharp with a cruelly perfect nail, slid beneath his chin, forcing his head back up. Kael hissed between his teeth, chest heaving. "Clara… stop this…" His voice cracked, not from defiance but from the war raging inside him. He could feel every inch of her—her aura, her scent, the electric heat of her body hovering just out of reach and it was driving him mad.
She smirked deeper, eyes gleaming. "You don't really want me to stop."
Kael's frustration twisted tighter, a growl caught in his throat. His mind screamed resistance, but the fire burning through his veins betrayed every lie he told himself. His body ached with tension, anger, shame, and something darkly forbidden he couldn't suppress.
Clara laughed again, softer this time, leaning in until her lips brushed his ear. "I can feel it… every pulse of your heart, every shiver you try to hide. You're mine already, Kael."
His teeth clenched, his body straining against the chains, but the sound of her hellish laughter, that whisper of damnation, lingered in his head. He wanted to spit out defiance, yet when he opened his mouth, nothing came but a ragged, shuddering breath.
And Clara knew. Her smirk told him she knew.
Kael's heart raced as he fought within himself: anger, humiliation, forbidden desire. Every inch of him screamed to resist, but he could feel it slipping.
Clara's smirk widened, venomous and slow, her voice a whisper that dripped like honey laced with poison.
"Mmm… Kael… you think this is the end?" She leaned closer, her breath brushing his cheek. "I haven't even started with you yet. But…" she dragged out the words like silk over skin, "…let's have a taste now."
Before Kael could speak, before he could turn his head away, Clara's tongue pressed against his bare chest slow, deliberate. She traced upward, dragging it over every tense line of his body. From the hollow between his ribs, up across the rise of his chest, higher still until her tongue reached the base of his throat.
Kael's entire body jerked, a raw scream escaping his throat—not from pain but from the shock of it, the electric sensation that tore through his nerves like fire. His eyes widened, chains rattling as he tried to pull back, but there was nowhere to go.
And then she reached his face. Clara's tongue slid up his neck, lingering against the line of his jaw before stopping at his cheek, a cruel lick that sent a shiver down his spine. His breath broke, ragged and panicked.
"W-why…" Kael stammered, his voice trembling, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and humiliation.
Clara only laughed, her low, hellish chuckle echoing like a serpent's hiss. She pressed one finger against his skin, sliding it with slow precision until it rested over the mark the strange sirgil etched into him that pulsed faintly with hidden power. Her eyes glowed as she leaned in, inhaling the faint burn of it as though savoring a forbidden scent.
"Oh, Kael…" her words dripped with dark satisfaction, "do you even know what you are? This mark—your mark it belongs to me now." She smirked, eyes blazing with possession, her whisper grazing his lips. "Every scar, every pulse, every trembling breath. Mine."
Kael shook his head violently, his voice breaking as he muttered, "N-no… I—I don't…" but his words were thin, drained, barely there, trembling against the iron weight of her presence.
Then she summoned it out of the air, like a nightmare pulling itself from shadows the knife. It shimmered faintly, not of this world, glowing with a cruel, invisible light. Clara held it with the grace of a lover, her tongue flicking across its edge like a serpent tasting its prey.
And slowly so slowly it was torture.. she brought the blade down.
From the top of his chest, she dragged its gleaming edge lower. It kissed his skin without cutting, tracing every line of his body. Down across the hard rise of his chest, slipping lower still—so close, humiliatingly close before gliding back up, pressing just enough to make him flinch, to make his breath shudder.
Kael's head fell forward, his voice barely more than a broken mutter. "S-stop… please…" His words were weak, drained, almost lost under the sound of her low laugh.
Clara tilted her head, smirk deepening. "Oh, Kael… you've barely tasted anything yet. But don't worry—" her tongue flicked against the corner of his mouth, cruel and mocking. "by the time I'm done, you'll beg for more."