Page 6 of Obsession

“What game are you playing here, dear brother?” Callum murmured from the doorway of the room.

“No game. Just taking back my stolen property.” Bastian stepped back from Ren. He took the knife that he had just violated her with and tucked it into his inside breast pocket.

Bastian watched her watch him for only a moment and turned to walk away without a sound.

She turned her head to watch the brothers leave the room together, they walked slowly and silently away as though shewasn’t even there. No verbal conversation, just a deafening hush in the wake of what just happened.

She gathered her torn dress back around herself, tying it around herself like a halter top.

Her feelings of fear and resistance were met with a wall of cold indifference from Bastian as he molested her. He seemingly didn’t care that she had been aroused by his actions either, which made her skin crawl even more.

Callum occasionally showed signs of shame for the behavior of his brothers and reverence for her sense of dignity. She saw him for who he was in that moment, a monster coaxing away evil, but what still remained unseen to her, was what made him a monster in the first place.

The mansion became both her prison and sanctuary, enslaving her to the will of monsters, but freeing her from the shackles of monotony in the ways of her old life.

After displaying no more signs of rebellion, she was slowly granted freedom again to roam certain areas of the underground labyrinth and its centuries of long forgotten carnage.

Wherever she looked, she'd uncover hints and clues to secrets of the vampires' seemingly eternal lives. There were ages of collected treasures to accompany the many bones and skulls that built the catacombs themselves.

While wandering one such area, Ren was distracted by the sounds of distant whispers and mysterious chants from behind closed doors. The curiosity filled her with a mixture of wonder and dread. Her emotions were bubbling to the surface in a myriad so strong that she couldn’t hardly tell which was the strongest.

While she was focusing on listening, she was startled by the touch of a hand upon her shoulder. Callum hadn’t made a sound on his approach, silent as death before the icy touch of his skin fell upon hers.

It was always colder than she expected, never failing to send shivers down her spine. She slowly felt herself warming to it as she hesitantly gazed into his eyes. Heat flushing her cheeks and waves of it spreading from between her thighs.

His peculiar interest in her grew more pronounced.

Callum’s touch in particular seemed to be having a more intense effect on her.

She would notice flickers of lust and need sometimes in the way the others would watch her. Not always as mere sentinels guarding over their prey, but in deepening glances downward, their eyes lingering a moment too long, on her more intimate parts.

Bastian had been painfully obvious after taking away the knife, his eyes staying locked on the curves of her bared chest, even going so far as to subtly lick his lips in anticipation of tasting her again.

A less common betrayal of his motives than he typically displayed, and his conversations in her presence were now filled with veiled meanings. She couldn’t help but read between the lines when she felt a sense of need with the dirty thoughts that followed in her dreams.

The taste of fear mingled with an unsettling attraction to her captors, each encounter leaving her more confused and drawn into their world.

Here, now, in Callum’s touch, she could feel herself slipping into a pool of desire that flowed out from within her, dripping with wild anticipation.

Seven

“Dearest brother, what is the meaning behind your interruptions during my play time with my pet?” Bastian snarled.

“It is my place to do with her as I please, most indubitably during her misguided acts of rebellion!”

Grayson casually strode in to join the discord bringing the tension to a palpable fervor. “I merely feel as we welcomed her as a guest, dear brother, that it is in the greatest interest to remain hospitable hosts. Are we not trying to win the favor of the feminine in our cause as we seek to fulfill the prophecy?” Callum replied.

“Prophecy be damned, you swooning twat! The millennia have long since passed where we remain concerned with the mad writings of intoxicated fools!” Bastian slammed his fist down roaring in outrage.

“Brothers please, prophecy aside, this beautiful creature is a strong candidate for any number of opportunities to further our interests.” Grayson butt in. “She possessed all the characteristics of the perfect specimen for breeding and feeding at worst, and Callum should be commended for his decision to bring her tous.” Bastian glared daggers at both brothers, but pulled back to hear out Grayson's wisdom. “Go on, Grayson, what should be done with the girl?”

Grayson laid out the book of the prophecy of the Queen Mother, and left it for later discussion, proceeding to trace out his plans for their current affairs on the table map. He considered the situation of the growing enemy to the west and the limits of expansion to the east by topographical borders and the explosion of the human population. “We must form alliances for war, should it come to it, but interaction with humans requires a low profile and cautious consideration. Only the most loathsome of the creatures will join in our cause, and the rest by nature will seek our destruction through their fear. The Queen Mother is a long outdated option, as we are all aware, however it does promise the victory of the Trinity.”

Bastian hated the prospect of any woman holding power greater than his own. The man had toppled nations for centuries and led armies the likes of which boggled the mind to see assembled on the blood soaked battlefields. To think they had been reduced to relying on the story of some feeble piddly little tart to come in and conquer the swarming foes that surrounded them, made him nauseous. He hadn't felt so worthless since the days his decision sealed him to his fate. His lust for life turned to ashes as he waited for a death that would never come. After so long now, he was accustomed to the power that bought him, and suddenly he felt death's icy grip closing in on him. “It will not have us brothers. We have earned this immorality, bled for it. Prophecy or practice, find a solution! We will live on.” The brothers all nodded to each other and set about carrying out his orders.

Eight

Ren came to understand that escape was not an option. The home of the brothers was inexhaustibly fraught with misdirection and shifting passageways. Try as she might to navigate her way around the home, the rooms and corridors themselves seemed to be substantially less than “static”. Her mind playing tricks on her seemed more likely than the actual structure shifting, nonetheless it was frustrating.

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