“Bel is close enough. It’s the name everyone calls me.” I internally chuckle, feeling properly invigorated by her ire.By the Gods, this woman is stubborn. And she shot me.
I release a false sigh, “It will do for now. Bel, do you still have yourpurity?” I say the word that the mortals use for virginity. She narrows her eyes at me, refusing to answer, so I ask another way, “Have you felt the touch of a man?”
She cringes and answers through gritted teeth, “Yes, I have. Okay?”
Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I counter, “That is impossible. Only the spilling of virgin blood while reciting my summoning spell could have released the bonds holding me in Vankhala.”
She shrugs indignantly, “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy.”
Did she claim she was cut by paper?“Give me your injured hand.”She tentatively urges her hand my way, and I snatch it, cradling it. Based on how she stumbled closer to me, I realize I may have pulled her a bit too hard.
Every instinct in my body has me longing to reach and steady her lest she falls.Why am I feeling so… protective?This makes no sense. I clench my hand and keep it to my side to keep myself from wrapping it around her waist.
Her middle finger has the smallest sliver of a cut I’ve seen in all my years, and I fight the urge to tongue the wound, searching for a drop of her. I catch myself staring at it like it holds all the answers. “And the incantation?” She tries to pull her hand from mine, but her strength is nowhere near enough. I’ll release her when I’ve decided to, not a second before.
She answers so quietly I hardly hear her response, “I was just narrating an audio book.”
“Audio… book. I do not understand.” Only then do I realize what I should have been asking all along, “What is the year?”
After another tug, I begrudgingly allow her to remove her hand from mine and she crosses her arms across her chest, mirroring my posture. Only now is she realizing her state of undress, but it’s a bit late for that, as I’ve already cataloged every curve and soft angle of her perfect body. She’s got a constellation of freckles across her chest that I long to trace with my tongue. It would certainly only frighten her further, but this sad, scared little offering is difficult to resist.
“It’s 2022. Come on I’ll… I’ll show you the book,” the girl tells me reluctantly, still debating whether she’s done fighting me or not. It’s clear that, for some reason, I can’t harm her. Nor do I want to, now that my head is clearing from my tumultuous journey from the prison realm.
Something in the back of my mind is shouting that I must protect her at all costs, and it’s exhausting. If she’s as innocent as she claims and it’s all just a strange occurrence, there’s no reason to hurt her. Though the delicious scent of terror seeping from her stops me from assuaging her fears.
Shoving away those tumultuous thoughts, I catch up to what she’s just revealed.2022.For nearly 300 years, I’ve been locked away. What have I missed all this time? Firearms are much more harmful, women more prone to nudity—a welcome development, truly—and the homes are strange. She pushes herself from the wall and heads toward the hallway she emerged from.
*Knock knock knock*“Miss Hart?” comes a muffled voice from down the hall she’s walking towards.
Once again, I find my palm covering her mouth. Then I’m dragging her back, placing my free hand against her soft stomach to keep her secured to me. If those at the door have weaponry like the gun she used on me, I do not want them entering her domain and possibly harming her. I hold her tightly, feeling every inch of her warmth against me.
“Is that law enforcement?” I whisper so only she will hear me, voice full of mirth at the promise of violence. She nods as best she can while trapped in my hold.
They knock again, “Miss Hart? You called dispatch about an intruder? And one of your neighbors reported hearing a gunshot.”
“You’ll have to get rid of them, my dove,” I’m walking slowly and quietly towards the voices, forcing her legs to move with mine, “If you do not, then I will. And you will not like how I choose to do so.”
I release her mouth only to find she’s completely frozen, unable to breathe, much less speak. I smooth her hair, willing her to relax. “Breathe, Bel,” I command and her answering inhale pleases me thoroughly.
Though before she can find her voice, the man outside yells again, “Miss Hart, we are coming in.”Too late for that then. She’s shaking in my arms now, unable to stop the tremors—though at least she is breathing—as loud, almost rhythmic pounding sounds from the hallway. I narrow my eyes, wondering what could be making that sound.
When the door bursts open, she uses the momentary distraction to rip my hand from her mouth and run towards her would-be saviors.She truly believes she could escape me so easily?
I give her three steps before snatching her around her waist and yanking her back to me, lifting her off the ground slightly as she attempts to scream. I grip her throat hard enough to keep any sound from escaping but not tight enough to cause harm, before tsking at her, “Oh, Little Dove. You shouldn’t have done that.”
Hell On Earth
Bel
“It would appear that I can’t hurt you, but what have you done to your would-be protectors?” I can feel as much as I hear his throaty rumble. He sighs against my hair, almost enraptured by the promise of bloodshed, and whispers, “Pardon me for a moment, won’t you?”
“What the fuck is that?!” One of the police shouts at the others as he draws his gun. I guess they like my new houseguest about as much as I do.What did he even mean he would get rid of them? He couldn’t possibly mean—
Whatever thought I was going to have gets cut off by several gunshots. Quicker than I can see, the large demon from… whatever he called it shoves me behind himself to protect me from the projectiles. He takes one step forward, using a hand to push me toward the couch while remaining in front of me.
I hear the wet thunk of a bullet hitting flesh, and he grunts and then growls like the kind of thing that only exists in nightmares. As I scream and duck, there’s a whooshing of air and an agonized scream, followed by several thuds. I don’t want to look, but I have to; I have to see the reality of the shitstorm I’m in.
I peek over the back of the couch, spotting something I’d rather I didn’t recognize so quickly. “Is that his fuckingspine?!”I scream at no one in particular. The monster moves far quicker than any man could. He’s almost entirely just a swift mass of black dropping assorted body parts along the way, followed by black smoke that seems to devour the officers weaponry, sucking it into oblivion. I barely catch a glimpse of those massive claws he had draped around my neck and the sharp white teeth dripping with blood.
