Whomever that was, a harsh wind came from the blossoming trees in the woods below, causing Damien and I to look hurriedly down the window... We landed at the foot of the Castle, just before the woods, but there was total silence and no one.
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Wayne’s POV
It could be just like one of those slow-motion scenes where events go on in a gradual pace and then the unhurried rhythm tunes that, at times, can make you want to cry comes after. Although some of these scenes are rather too annoying and incredibly dawdling to keep on, my current situation certainly was not.
With the scent of an unknown lingering presence in what seemed like my dark, four-walled chamber, I could not open my eyes to reality no matter how I tried. Initially, in my head, I was propped up on my bed, peering anxiously into the darkness to see if those imaginary shadow mobs approached me from every possible corner until the half, midnight moon suddenly found its way out of the clouds and casted its light through the unveiled window, illuminating a part of the wall that overlooked it.
Unexpectedly, the moonlight on the wall gave way to a frightening sight. I saw a silhouette on the illuminated wall; it was that of a human, I could tell, yet there was nothing much to see, as it looked like the silhouette owner took proper time to shade himself behind a cloak. It sinuously moved from its position to a dark part of the wall where I could see it no more, and just when I thought all was over, I felt ghosting touches on my sensitive skin, as well as a force that drove me to lie on my back.
Sudden Goosebumps erupted through my skin, perspiration dropping from every pore of my flesh, slithering its way down to the bedspread and seeping away at the former’s dryness.
I tried to talk, but my mouth seemed stuck firmly together by something unseen, and I lost total control of my teeth. I was certain that I was awake. Still, I could not open my eyes to the literal world. I only saw the images in my head, felt the touches, and perceived the presence.
Every stronghold left in me chattered when the fingers moving slowly on my slick skin did not stop. I shivered as it went from my muscled upper-limbs to my broad chest, settling right there and taking its time to create an imaginary revolving line with the sweat-drenched and sticky hairs of my chest.
The pleasure from this was so overwhelming that I could not help but want to moan out. It seemed almost as if the owner of these fingers smeared some kind of charm on it before commencing this torture.
When they stroked their way down to my taut, packed gut, I felt every organ in me fail except, of course, the one just between my muscular thighs.
These fingers played with my button, triggering a shuddering sensation that went all the way from my head to sparking a tingling, burning sensation in my abdomen, then causing a good quantity of blood to rush down my crotch, trapping right in my shaft.
My hands and legs then had no choice than to succumb to this torment, the tip of my fingers itched and I could not help but squeeze them tightly together. However, just when I did, it seemed like the mesmerizing fingers became stuck, as they suddenly stopped moving.
I felt an itch in my spine, an itch of desperate want. I eagerly wanted these hands to move further down and wrap its cold, smooth fingers comfortingly around my manhood. At that thought however, the hands were suddenly gone, and the blood instantly coursed through my body.
Within myself, I could hear my own groan― a groan of want, desperation, all in one. I saw the need to complain about this creature behind the shade of a cloak returning to stalk my dream and torture my flesh so mind-blowingly, but my body rather said otherwise. Still, it had been four days since this last happened to me. Why now, why did it return?
I precipitously felt something pull me back to reality and I woke up startled as I heard my door burst open all of a sudden. My bulging deep-set eyes dart to the door to see my last brother, Damien, leaning on it with his hands crossed on his chest. He watched me as I tried to catch my breath; his expression depicted that of uncertainty.
Usually, I imagined that mischievous-looking Damien had more height than an angry-looking one. The dude was either of these two sides from time to time; yet, now, he looked tall, lean, and had a devil-shade-like facial feature. A look fit for an impulsive Vampire.
With his silver, shoulder-length hair gathered into a neat, high ponytail; and his figure entirely buried inside a floor-favoring ultramarine Robe, I felt the need to cry out and tell Damien how a Robe irritated me, especially, at nights; a time like this.
Nevertheless, that was not close to possible because knowing who Damien was, he was sure to roast me up before I was even done with my speech.
I looked around the room, noting that the moonlight still shone on the part of the wall where I saw the cloaked silhouette in my dream, but now the shadow was not there, nor did I still perceive the scent of the presence.
“Someone was here!” Damien announced after a moment of silence, but I had no reply for him. Instead, I came out of my duvet and slid my legs down the bed. My hair― tousled, silver, waist-length long, and damp, moved to the side of my face and ushered some strands to my sweaty forehead. I tugged at the straight strands, deep in thought.
Though it seemed to be just a dream, I still felt the effects of the smooth fingers that caressed my skin, and the tip of my toes and fingers prickled sweetly like every other time I experienced this. Only that now, as I subconsciously placed my hand on my crotch, my shaft had gone flaccid. Literally, that was it, the end of my own gradual-paced scene.
Damien came forward and sat beside me on the bed. I turned to him. He had a wonky smile as he stared hawkeyed at me. That was his exact expression when the words that would pass his lips turn out to be like a thorn to the eardrums.
“Just take a look at you,” he uttered bluntly. “You look like a human who just rounded off a marathon,” he added and I sighed, obviously not ready for his derision.
I looked down at myself and yes, I did look as Damien said, it was too obvious― I meant my practically drenched cloth, as well as the perspiration that dripped in rivulets; but that was fine, no one was immune to sweat after all. It is in fact, a natural phenomenon that is bound to happen, be it a supernatural being or not.
Anyhow, I was quite relieved that Damien came in to save me from the sweet torture. “If you had not just come in, I would have thought it was you hunting me in the dark!”
Damien's head fell back at my words as he gave out a dry chuckle. When he stopped laughing, he reached out to remove strands of hair that had almost covered my full face, but I swatted his hand away. He then smirked, raising his hands as a surrendering gesture.
“Do you not ever sleep?” I asked as I faced the door, sketching an imaginary figure of the shadow I thought I had seen, in the air.
“You should know Vampires hardly do that, unlike you who easily sleep,” Damien grinned.
I heaved a sigh, finally taking a handful of hair from my face, and shoving them to my back. “It had been… a long time since I experienced this,” I muttered as I crossed my legs and placed my elbows on them.
I turned to Damien to realize I had the latter's beady eyes casually staring at me. I held his gaze and saw his lips slowly twitch to a side. I suspected he must have a mischievous thought going on in his head.
“This is what you obviously get from being too attractive,” he mumbled insouciantly as he fed his eyes on the riveting view of my bare torso. My brows creased; this was not what I expected him to say, but whoever cares! “I mean, unlike the rest of us, you are the dreamboat, the Adonis who catches the attention of all the maidens in Coral Shore. And as if that is not enough for being prominent, you are also the only one who is the target of some invincible creature in a Castle of four Royals!”
Fuck it! “Yea, thanks for the insult! So glad you rubbed it in the face,” I grumbled, noting Damien’s tone of sarcasm as I rolled my eyes away from him.
Though he did not mention it precisely, his second sentence technically stated how weak I was, that I could not fight off what he saw as a fragment of my imaginations hunting me while I was asleep at night. It is a pity that he was not aware of how real it felt to me whenever I awoke.
He was expecting me to have the minor ability, of Demons, of tracing a dream or nightmare to its origin to find out the cause. I had tried doing that, but there was no progress, neither could other Demons do it for me since it was a man-for-himself ability.
Damien stood up and walked to my window where one could clearly see the full glow of the moon that reflected into the room, radiating so brightly in the marvelous, dark sky. His hands found their way on the sill. “Should be two hours past midnight,” he muttered and I did not reply.
“You know,” Damien suddenly turned and crossed his arms again, leaning on the wall. “If you were keen enough to notice, this so-called shadow and all that fled the moment I came in and I am still trying to figure out why that happened. Is it that it is so scared of me or that my presence would be a hindrance to making you a pawn?”
“Damien,” I growled. Here he goes again. I knew where his words were taking us to, but he should just shut up instead of spilling nonsense. If this person wanted to make me a pawn, then it should have happened a long time ago.
“What…?” Damien whispered, nearly in an annoying way. His eyes squinted, and he reclined for a moment, as if suddenly realizing that he needed to add more piquant words as he was bent on getting on my nerves so early in the morning. “You have been the weak one among us, and the proof is right here!” He dropped the bombshell.
This certainly triggered my irritation because I yelled, “Damien!” Now this left me wondering if I have woken up Lucerne.
“If you would dare to fight me, I am right on it!” Damien sneered, and I will not dare. Fighting with him would not change anything, it cannot change the fact that I was a bloody bastard who seemed different from his Father and Brothers and was not fit to be a fully respected Prince; it cannot also change the fact that Damien was right after all.
Among the three sons of our Father, I was the only one who is still unable to shift to my true form and master my ability.
When Mother was alive, she began to teach us at a very young age about transforming to our true forms, exhibiting as well as controlling our strengths. Lucerne, who is the eldest, was a pure demon and was able to change. Damien was a vampire and everyone knew it right from the moment he was born.
I, on my part, remained human for three decades with only the ability to use some bitchy quartet super-senses
super sense of sight, hearing, taste and smell
that does have absolutely nothing in common with the demons. Worse, no one had the morsel knowledge that I possessed these senses; neither did I have the guts to tell them. Due to this, Damien now saw me as weak and disabled.
“Maybe I was not destined to be powerful,” I muttered low-spiritedly as I got myself up on my shaky legs and trampled my littered history books to the window.
I saw Damien roll his eyes, and then he sat on the bed, resting his back against the headboard. His cobalt orbs glared into my amber ones. I immediately looked away, fully facing the moon that seemed to be smiling at me.
I thought of this experience that I started having for almost more than a decade ago. Honestly, despite having enjoyed all that happened those nights, I always woke up worried because I felt it was associated with my weakness.
I however felt a bit of relief when it ceased to return four days ago, but now it is back, it was never gone! What did this personality want, was it connected to my disability to transform and possess my full powers like other demons? On the other hand, was this person trying to convey a message to me?
“What if in the end, you realize you were literally a vampire?” Damien asked and I knew he was obviously joking because…
“I do not crave for blood,” I snapped.
“That is right!” Damien stood up and came to a halt beside me. He sniffed in cold air as his eyes closed shortly. “Someone is still hanging around here!” He suddenly rasped, his eyes snapping open.
Whomever that was, a harsh wind came from the blossoming trees in the woods below, causing Damien and I to look hurriedly down the window.
Damien must have seen something in the dark because he immediately yanked me to jump down the Castle window with him. We landed at the foot of the Castle, just before the woods, but there was total silence and no one.
“She is gone,” Damien murmured.
“Huh?” I queried, surprised.
“A cloaked figure, it was a female, but she seems to have used a potion to vanish.”
My brows creased as some of Damien’s words echoed in my ears — cloaked, potion, vanish. “Could she be… a witch?” I asked and Damien looked at me. He rubbed his palms together and placed them on both sides of his cheeks.
“I thought so too.”
