#atoning for my sins last night with some softer thoughts

[lucysgraybird]

sending this to billy and he just goes :)

[thenightgazer]

Spark of Stardust

Chapter 1 : An Interstellar Quest It's not a date. Vergil insists upon it, even when he doubts himself as he asks Lyra to accompany him to search for a perfect birthday gift for Kyrie. But just like the dying star that sparks its undying stardust; the "date" is just a start for him to get to know more about Lyra, as the librarian reveals her "little, deepest and darkest secrets"

Warning : implied psychological and drug abuse

Part 6 of Tales of Apotelesma

You can also read this fic on AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

~~~

It starts with a soft hand that brushes his face. The fuzzy sensation wakes him up. The lamp on the ceiling is the first thing he sees when he slowly opens his eyes wide awake. His eyes linger to his surroundings— and that shocks him because he’s no longer in his bedroom at Devil May Cry. He’s awakened in someone else’s bedroom. The wall is painted with warm colours and there is a large bookshelf besides the bed. When he turns his head to his left, he spots toys and trinkets which supposedly belong to a little girl, and there sits a young woman who smiles at him.

Where am I?

“How was your sleep?” she asks him. Her soft hand ruffles his hair gently. “You look so peaceful.”

He’s speechless. Not because he doesn’t want to answer, but his mouth won’t cooperate with his head. His survival instincts scream at him to get away from this situation, but all he could feel is numbness.

“I brought you dinner,” the beautiful woman continues. He observes her cautiously; she is approximately in her thirties, with long brunette hair and brown eyes. She looks like the kind of woman who looks absolutely harmless. The way her body moves is delicate. Her voice sounds appealing as she tells him the menu and hopes he will like it. She gives him the same warm impression as his own mother, but this woman seems shady. Her eyes remind him of someone... but he couldn’t remember the person. The same cold, void eyes...

“The nurse said you haven’t eaten since last night. You refused to take your medicines. Why? Don’t you want to get better?” Her voice turns colder. “When I heard that you refused to eat, I couldn’t concentrate on my work. I’m afraid you won’t get better. Now you will eat and take your medicine for me, okay?”

He can’t follow everything she has said just now. Who is this woman? What medicines? What nurse? But his head nods automatically as if his body is controlled by someone else, and that little gesture makes this woman’s warm smile appear on her pretty face again.

“Good. Let’s eat! After that, I’ll read you something exciting. How’s that sound?”

He nods obediently, opening his mouth to eat the porridge. He can’t feel the taste, nor can he sense the texture of the food. But the woman looks at him as if she would blast if he didn’t eat. The sound of friction between the spoon and the bowl drives him crazy. She’s making sure that he swallows the food as she cleans up his mouth. After the bowl is empty, she proceeds to pour something from a bottle—medicine— on a small spoon and look up at him, opening her mouth as a command for him to mimic her gesture. She seems delighted when he swallows the medicine.

“Atta girl.”

What is this nonsense? What is that thing she put inside me?

But he knows he won’t get the answer.

It’s all just a dream, right?

The woman walks to the bookshelf. Her fingers run through the book until she finds the one she desires. She sits back besides him again and opens the book, her fingers scan through the pages.

“You don’t like Cinderella, so I picked up this one,” she shows him the cover of the book. “I guarantee you’ll like it! It’s called The Hobbit, an adventure story. Your favourite, right?”  

I do like adventure stories. But it isn’t my favourite. It’s Dante’s…

She starts her storytelling in a clear voice. “In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit...”

There’s something in her face when she reads. She seems more relaxed and softer than before, as if she got lost in the story. His suspicion is surprisingly gone while he listens to her and the familiarity strikes him again. She reminds him of his own mother when he was a child, reading him bedtime stories. Cambions in their early childhood needed a lot of sleep just like human children, but Dante and he always refused to sleep early and asked for more stories. There’s something peaceful about this familiarity. It calms him, then he decides to close his eyes again whilst the woman’s voice slowly fades away.

---

The dream shatters as Vergil’s cell phone rings loudly.

The hybrid lays still on his bed. He was sleeping for two hours just because he had no other options left to do aside from sleeping. Yet, even though his body doesn’t particularly need to sleep, he hates it when his slumber is interrupted. His hand reaches to find his phone and immediately pick it when he finds it on the desk beside his bed without seeing who’s calling him because he doesn’t bother to open his sleepy eyes.

“Dad?”

That familiar voice forces Vergil to open his eyes.

“Nero?”

“Yeah. You busy?”

“No,” Vergil throws a blanket from his naked chest as he moves his body to sit and brushes his hair. “What’s wrong, Nero?”

Nero doesn’t reply immediately. Vergil can hear a heavy sigh from his son and that makes him a bit anxious.  

“Nothing wrong. Just...” The young devil hunter lets out another sigh. “Today is Kyrie’s birthday. She invites you and the crews for dinner at six. Uh… six as in Fortuna time, which is an hour later from Red Grave time. Just in case you got lost in time again.”

“Of course. We will be attending the dinner. Thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s Kyrie who invites you, not me.”

“...”

“... but having you around here is not so bad. The kids were always whining whenever you and Dante left the house.” Nero’s response is almost excited and eager, much to Vergil’s relief.

The picture of Julio, Carlo and Kyle somehow makes Vergil grins. “You did very well taking care of those little rascals.”

“Thanks,” there’s a pause before Nero continues. “Anyway, I should get going. Nico needs my help to do some crazy shit.”

“I hope all is well for you.”

“You too, I guess...” the young man clears his throat. “And... thank you. For accepting the invitation.”

“It’s the least I could do,” The blue devil smiles, his anxiety is gone as their interaction goes smoothly. “Carry on, son.”

“Y-yeah— bye, then.”

Warmth fills Vergil’s heart as he cleans up his bed and folds the blanket neatly. Never in his life would he have thought that he’d become a father. Even though it was unplanned, having a son does change his life. He has no parental figures to ask advice from and those parenting books are not helping at all, but he learns at his own pace. Two years of effort of atonement is nothing compared to his sins, yet he wants the very best for Nero and is very protective to him.

Then the word stings him.

Birthday, huh?  

Ever since he was a little boy, Vergil has never understood the concept of celebrating birthdays. For him, birthday is just another day to pass. If anything, it seems like people love to celebrate the day when their life spans decrease. People are getting old, so what? Why do we celebrate that irony? Is that because of the presents and cake? Little Vergil never found the answer, but he did feel happy whenever he received presents and ate his birthday cake, even if that means he had to share it with his twin, Dante (he had given up the dream of having his own cake, since being twins means sharing almost everything). He didn’t even think about birthdays until Nero reminded him.

I wonder if he knows his birthday...

Vergil walks to the bathroom and washes his face. He looks at the mirror and the man guy in the mirror stares back at him. His reflection somehow reminds him of the strange dream. What was that dream about? It seems visceral, like it was my own memory. His heartbeat gets faster when he has a dreadful negative thought that it could be Mundus’ mind manipulation. If that was Mundus, it’s too pointless. He’d use my own memories to torture me, not with some kind of irrelevant vision.

“Mornin’,” Dante shoves himself besides Vergil and yawns. “I’m hungry.”

“Pleased to meet you, Hungry.”

Dante bursts into laughter. “Since when are you into dad jokes?”

“I’ll take the shower first.” Ignoring Dante’s question, Vergil picks up a dry towel and gets inside the shower cubicle.

Dante takes off his shirt and stretches his muscles. He washes his face and begins to shave his beard. “You said you fought Angelo demons at last week’s gig, right? Heard from Lady the same Angelo demons got sighted at another city. We still don’t have any information on who created and summoned them.”

Vergil wipes the droplets of water from his face. “It seems like those Angelo demons were none like all the artificial demons we have ever seen before. Their form, their abilities, their durability. They looked rather... futuristic, I'd say. I got an impression that the new Angelo was created mostly by advanced science rather than magic.”

“Another thing happened these past weeks. There are three outbursts at restricted medical facilities in different cities.”

“What medical facility?”

“Trish said that the three of them were research laboratories owned by Ravenhill Corporation.”

“Isn’t that the same corporation that won a peace award or something like that?”

“Yeah. The Ravenhills are an influential aristocrat with power over the health and security industry. Most of the health facilities in this world are sponsored and if not, owned by Ravenhill Corporation. They have a branch company here in this city too.”

“And do you think those incidents have a connection with the appearance of Angelo demons?”      

“Just a gut feeling, but that’s worth investigating, better safe than sorry, aight?” Dante brushes his hair and flips it back like Vergil. “Hey, I look just like you with this hairstyle! Perhaps I should go with this style from now on.”

“If you’re done talking, get out of the bathroom.”

“This is MY bathroom!”

“And I’m the one who cleans up the mess you’ve created in this house, Dante.”

“Fine~!” Dante chuckles as he cleans up the remaining shaving foam from his jaw. “Have you bought something for Kyrie’s birthday? Got missed calls and a text about the dinner party from Nero.”

“Not yet.”

“I’ve been thinking of giving her a fancy revolver. Heard from Nero that she’s quite good at using guns.”

“... do you really think that women fancy weapons as a gift?”

“Trish and Lady do. But hey! You can go ask our clever librarian!” Dante's face lightens up in exhilaration.

Vergil turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist as he opens the cubicle. “What do you mean by ’our’?!”

“Yours, then. She’s a normal civilian woman. Perhaps she can recommend you a perfect gift for Kyrie.”

No, if only you know that she’s not normal! “... you’re probably right.”

A teasing whistle comes from Dante as he takes off his pants and walks inside the cubicle. “As Yoda said, Verge, ‘ do or do not. There is no try ’. Call her and ask her out for a date.”

“I’m not taking any advice from a man who has rotten luck with women. And who is Yoda?”

“Call it what you want it. If you’re not asking her out, I’ll go ask her by myself.”

“Not before I step over your dead body.”

“Ha! Someone’s jealous for realsies~”

Vergil walks away from the bathroom before his inner turmoil tempts him to try to kill Dante… again. His insolent brother might have been teasing him too much, but in a way he’s right. He needs to find someone trusted enough to help him buy the perfect gift for Kyrie.

But she’s on duty today is her work day. I won’t make it right on time to the party if I have to wait for her shift to end.

He’s still thinking about it when he enters his room on the second floor and grabs his phone. Lyra’s contact name is showing up, but he hesitates. It’s still 9 o’clock. The library must have just opened.

After having a quite long internal battle with himself, he decides to call her anyway.

It takes a little bit long for Lyra to finally pick up her phone. Vergil catches the sound of her voice and a man’s laugh who Vergil assumes is Nate. “Bugger off for a minute, will you? — Clayton here.”

“Lyra.”

“Oh, hello Vergil!”

“Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all! Is there anything I can help you with?”

“... yes.”

“Are you okay? You sound like you want to cry.”

“I am certainly not,” Vergil groans at Lyra’s giggle. “Yet, I do believe I need your help.”

“Name it!”

“... it’s about a birthday present.” Vergil clears his throat. “Do you remember Kyrie, my son’s fiancée? She will be celebrating her birthday this evening. She invited Dante and I to her house for dinner.”

“I see.”

“Kyrie has always been there for Nero,” he continues. “She helped guide him to become the person he is now. She took care of him while I wasn’t there for him. She’s an important person to my son. That’s why... at least I have to show her some respect.”

“By giving her a decent birthday present.”

“Yes.”

“I think she will appreciate everything you give to her.”

“She will, certainly. She’s too polite to reject a present, but I don’t want her to think that I’m a careless father-in-law by giving her a gratuitous gift.”

“You’re right. I’d be delighted to accompany you to buy the present, but…I’m on duty right now. I’m afraid I couldn't help you any further.”

“That I know. That’s why I call for your advice.”

“I suggest something small, but meaningful. You told me she love to sing, right? Maybe a vinyl of classical music would — what in the bloody—! Nate! Give me back my phone at once!”

Vergil hears them grumbling and arguing at something. He considers to just hang up the phone given to his hunch that Lyra and Nate are probably having a fight right now, but suddenly he hears Nate’s voice as the young librarian speaks to him.

“Mr. Vergil? It’s Nate!”

This scoundrel's audacity...! “I recognize your voice, Nathaniel. What are you doing with Lyra’s phone?”

“Err... sorry for the interruption, but Lyra forced me to tell you this myself, or else you won’t believe her! I told her that I don’t mind if she wants to go on a date with you! My father won’t be checking on the library today!” Nate lets out a dry chuckle to break the ice, but since Vergil says nothing, Nate continues to speak. “She insisted on at least working today, so I told her to finish the duty earlier so she could spend her time with you. That’s all! Oh yeah, a little advice here; Lyra has a terrible sense of direction, means that you should hold her close— ouch!”  

A sound of a book slapped on Nate’s head comes to Vergil’s ear. The next is Lyra’s nervous voice talking to him. “Vergil? You heard Nate. So... we meet at three. How’s that sound?”

“I’ll pick you up at the library.”

“Okay!”

“Then... I’ll see you around.”

“Cheerio!”

Vergil hangs up the phone, unexpectedly feeling the queasiness after he recalls the word ‘date’ as Dante and Nate said earlier. Foolish. We are not dating. We are just going to buy a birthday present. That’s all. Stop this unnecessary disquietude. It’s just Lyra—

“Tell me you’re not gonna go on a date with your boring clothes!”

Vergil hardly glances to his side and sees Patty’s figure standing by his door. The twenty years old girl is wearing an apron and holding a broom in her hand. “At least wear something stylish! You and Dante are all hopeless! No wonder the two of you haven’t gotten married yet!”

“I believe that’s none of your concern, Miss Lowell. And although I lack what humans would consider common sense, the last time I know about human norms and etiquette, that it is rude to trespass on someone's private space and eavesdrop on other people’s conversation.”

“I’m not eavesdropping! I just happened to pass this room while cleaning this house because lately you are not present in this house and Dante is being a lazy bastard as usual! Show some gratitude!”

“Thank you for your help. But as you can see now, I am here and that means I will do the household job while you can go disturb Dante’s peace now.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Dante shouts from the first floor.

“Anyways, let me help you to choose better clothes for you!” Patty insists. “I don’t know who this girl is because Dante won’t tell me, but she seems special to you. You need to dress at your best! Impressing a girl on their first date is a must!”

“I’ll forgive your impudent attitude this time if you kindly close the door, Miss Lowell. I need to put some clothes on.”

Realizing that Vergil wears nothing but a towel wrapped on his waist, Patty flusters as she looks away and grabs the door knob violently. “Fine!”

The blue devil chuckles softly when he hears Patty goes downstairs and screams at Dante for whatever antics that he does right now. He searches through his wardrobe, pondering if Patty was right. And maybe she is. He’s about to blend into society, that means he needs to look less suspicious. He should wear something casual and humane.

Humans and their fashion. Even demons are much simpler.

He picks some clothes with a hope that he won’t look too ridiculous.

---

“Do you think he’s the type of person who brings flowers for a date?” Nate throws paper planes at Lyra’s direction, which she blocks it all with a book.

“Why do you insist that this is a date? We are friends. Friends go hang out sometimes.” Lyra says.

“Dammit, Lyre! You are older than me but I can’t believe you’re so clueless about this. Even idiots could tell that he likes you!”

Lyra groans desperately. “That’s it. That’s the problem of modern society. People nowadays confuse politeness with flirting!”

“Sometimes both work simultaneously! And that’s the case of Mr. Vergil. Sure, he’s polite to everyone even though he always looks like he wanted to kill someone. But he’s different with you; he’s not just polite, but kind. That’s two different things!”

Lyra half-heartedly listens to Nate’s babble; despite she already knows what is inside Nate’s mind. She knows what he means about Vergil being kind only to her, and Nate’s mind interprets how soft Vergil is whenever he’s around her. The thought of those forms of romanticism confuses her. Being a telepath, she has seen and listened into people’s minds for almost her entire life. She’s no stranger to the concept of love according to universal belief, yet she still doubts its existence.

Sometimes, what people think about something isn’t always synchronized with how they feel about it.

And speaking of which, I haven’t heard Nate’s thoughts since fifteen seconds ago...

“He’s here!” Nate declares as he looks up at the window near the front door. “Wait, uh... is it really him?”

“What?”

“He looks... different.” Nate mumbles. “And he didn’t bring flowers. Guess he’s not the flower type of guy.”

“On the contrary, he is.” Lyra takes a brief look at her appearance in the mirror and puts on eyeglasses before giving a wink at Nate. “See you tomorrow!”

“Now who’s excited about the date!?”

She giggles throughout her journey to the front door, only to be surprised when she opens the door and finds Vergil standing in front of her and about to open the door too. But today he looks stunningly different; he is wearing as black shirt beneath a navy-blue casual coat. His dark trousers make him look taller than usual. He changes his footwear into a pair of black chukka boots. Even with his usual warrior clothes, Vergil Sparda is already breathtakingly handsome. His casual look just enhances his majestic stature.  

Lyra has never really given any attention to fashion, but now she can’t take her eyes off of him. “What’s with the sudden change in your sense of fashion?”  

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it!” she blurts. “You look… so… normal”

“Is it just me or does it sound like an insult?”

“It’s a compliment!”

“... thank you, I suppose,” Vergil reluctantly scratches his nape. “Shall we go now?”

“Let’s!”

Lyra glares at Nate who’s giving her double thumbs up and loudly wishing her good luck before she closes the door.

“So,” the librarian walks side by side with Vergil. “Do you remember I mentioned that I purchased my devil arm at an antique shop?”

“Yes. What’s with that?”

“I think it’s a good place to start our quest. The shop sells antique weapons, jewelries, old books and trinkets. Perfect collection for Kyrie.”

“Very well. Where’s this shop located?”

“Nova Town.”

“It’s too far from here.”

“Lucky for us, you have Yamato.”

“I’m beginning to think that you see me as a mere means tool of transportation.”

“Maybe,” she winks playfully. “But you are too decent to be a mere tool, my dearest friend.”

The hybrid rolls his eyes, “Let’s find an empty alley first.”

---

“That was the first time I saw Lyra smiling like that,” Nate mutters at himself as he taps something on his cell phone. “Good for her! Ever since I saw their chemistry on the murder in the library weeks ago, I know they’re going to form a relationship soon!”

The twenty four years old librarian giggles at his own fantasy while drowning himself further into a mobile game he always plays whenever he has free time. He almost startled himself when the bell rings and a customer comes in. Nate abruptly pauses the game and greets the guest. “Welcome to The Literarium!”

The guest — a tall and ginger-haired man — returns Nate’s greeting with a nod. A suspicion arises in Nate’s head as he observes the man’s eyes that are covered with sunglasses. Why the hell does he wear sunglasses indoors? He continues to follow the man’s movement, which is also suspicious. The man seems detached from reality as he stares at one of the shelves quite long without really doing anything, not even touching the books. He walks slowly to another section, again without any interest in the books. The man seems eager to look for something as he repeatedly tilts his head to look outside the window, but Nate is certain that he’s not here for books. Then why bother coming here if he’s not interested in books? Nate clicks his pen anxiously. Paranoia begins to consume him. What if he wants to rob this place?!

The ginger-haired man approaches the sale section and finally picks a book. He looks at the cover briefly before heading to the counter. Nate fakes a polite smile when he scans the book— Lord of the Flies by William Golding— and forces himself to make a small talk. “Fine day, isn’t it?”

The man nods while giving Nate his money. “I agree.”

“You like allegorical one, huh?”

The man furrows his brow. “Sorry?”

Nate lifts the copy of Lord of the Flies . “You don’t know that Golding wrote one of the best allegorical novels all the time?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I only recognized it as one of the bestseller books,” the man chuckles. His laughter surprisingly sounds very friendly. “I picked it because the synopsis reminds me of the past.”

“Jesus, what a chaotic past you must have back then.” Nate gives him the book and his change.

“Quiet so,” the man flips the page, but Nate can sense he’s focusing on another thing. “By the way, the woman who wears eyeglasses… She came out from this place with a man about five minutes ago. Does she work here?”

Shit, another Lyra’s admirer. That explains my suspicion! “Yeah. You know her?”

“She looks like a person I used to know. Quite different, but I spot some similarities.”

“Maybe they are the same person?”

“The same person?” the man chuckles again as he closes the book. “That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“She died years ago.”

“Oh, man… I’m so sorry...”

“It’s fine. She wasn’t related to me, just a person I knew. At first glance, your friend looks eerily similar to her,” the man’s face abruptly turns into doubt and anxious. Nate swears he can see his hands tremble. “I was terribly surprised when I saw your friend out there. I thought the woman I knew was alive again. What is the name? Your lady friend, I mean.”

“Louisa.” Nate lightly says his lie as soon as he’s aware of the man’s intention. I’m not doing anything wrong. Lyra told me to fake a name in case some flirty bastards ask me her name.

“Louisa, then. Pretty name,” the man seems pleased at Nate’s answer. “Thank you. Lovely library, anyway. Good day for you.”

“Thank you. Happy reading and have a good day!”

He’s different from any of Lyra’s secret admirers, Nate feels uneasy about the man’s strange attitude even though the man has already taken his leave. He makes a mental note to contact Lyra soon after he closes the library. “That guy looks like he’s about to plan something fishy. But I can’t disturb Lyra and Mr. Vergil right now.”

Nate grabs his cell phone and restarts the game with a hope that nothing bad would happen.

---

She’s strangely quiet today.

Ever since they arrived at Nova Town, Vergil catches something unusual from Lyra. She guides the way to the antique shop without talking to him but carefully watches her surroundings. But at the same time, she seems to lose her focus and sometimes stares blankly at something. They have been walking for almost 30 minutes and they haven’t arrived at the antique shop yet. Also, that’s not the only thing from her that is unusual... “You wear eyeglasses.”

“Huh?” Lyra automatically touches her eyeglasses. “Why? You don’t like a girl with eyeglasses?”

“I don’t dislike it.”

“You have a funny way to compliment others, don’t you?”

“I have never seen you wearing eyeglasses before. I thought I was looking at a completely different person when you opened the door earlier.”

“I always wear eyeglasses whenever I’m out to shop, just for aesthetic purposes. I’ll take it off if that makes you uncomfortable—”

“Please don’t. You look lovely with that.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome. Are we getting closer to the shop?”

“… I think so?”

Vergil stops abruptly, “Tell me we are not lost.”

“W-we’re not!” she stutters in panic. “I’m just having a little confusion here, because this town looks different from the last time I came here. It has only been two years and the town is already changing...”

“Are you even certain that we are in the right town?”

“One hundred percent certain!”

“Then tell me,” Vergil curves a devilish grin. “Is Nathaniel right? That you have a terrible sense of direction?”

A light blush blooms on Lyra’s face. “Uh... yeah— but we are in the right town! For real! Just because I have a terrible sense of direction, doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”

“Yet we are lost, aren’t we?”

“We are not! See that monument over there? It’s the town’s icon. We just have to turn left to that road and the antique shop should be on the right corner.”

Vergil watches the monument that Lyra mentioned before he glances at her again with doubtful looks. “Alright, then. But why don’t you use… what is it again... GPS?”

“Later. I’m practicing my sense of direction by practicing my telepathic ability.”

“Does your telepathic ability have something to do with your sense of direction?”

“Since the murder in the library, I’m practicing to read people’s mind whenever you’re around me because your magical defense blocks my telepathic ability. Normally, all I need to do is just focus on their minds and find out if some of them have knowledge of the place I’m about to go.”

“Why bother? You still can read minds by touching their body parts.”

“That’s impractical! Not everyone wants to be touched. Just imagine if I need to touch a person with haphephobia.”

“I thought you like it when you don’t have to read minds anymore.”

“Just in case of an emergency. Who knows if we would find any strange cases again, or if I’m stuck with Dante and there’s an urgent situation where I’m required to smuggle into someone’s head.”

“Hold on. Your telepathy doesn’t work on Dante too?”

“I guess the power of Sparda includes protection from telepaths.”

“I see. Now I understand,” Vergil scoffs. “The reason why you were awfully quiet since we stepped in this town is that you tried to practice your telepathic ability to find out the antique shop’s direction, so you won’t embarrass yourself in front of me because you have poor sense of direction and you think having to use GPS would make you look unreliable as a guide.”

Lyra hides her hands behind her back and stares at the ground, which to Vergil indicates that everything he said is true and that she’s embarrassed to admit it. To be very honest, he doesn’t think that Lyra does something wrong. He just wants to clarify things behind her unusual behavior, but it unconsciously sounds like he’s scolding her for her little secret.

“Just use the GPS if you need it. You have nothing to be ashamed of. That won’t make me think less of you.”

Lyra seems to hesitate at first, but eventually shrugs and takes her phone out from her bag. Vergil quietly smirks at her surrender.

“Fortunately, we’re on the right track!” She shows Vergil the map. “Thank you for your encouragement, Vergil. That’s the longest advice you ever said to me.”

He shrugs it off. “I guess that’s what friends are for.”

“Still, that means a lot to me.”

“Just forget it. Then how’s your practice going?”

“Still doing my best. The first time I tried to read someone’s mind without touching them whenever you were around me, it was all nothing. But now I can see blurry images and hear buzzing sound!” She smiles at him, her eyes beam as she points at the rustic shop at the corner of the street. “Look! We've arrived!”

When Vergil enters the antique shop, he expects the shopkeeper to greet them with unstoppable pestering offers like all the shopkeepers normally do. That’s why he hates shopping. Thankfully the shopkeeper is sleeping on the counter, like she doesn’t care if someone steals one of the items. The shop itself is quiet and the goods are all unique. The problem is, Vergil doesn’t know where to start searching. There are many items that Vergil puts a certain degree of interest in—necklaces, bracelets, clocks, paintings—but he doesn’t think that it would be useful or meaningful to Kyrie. He starts to think about Dante’s suggestion to give her a weapon for self-protection. It seems easier than this endless searching.

“Do you know the biggest dilemma when it comes to shopping? You expect to find a certain thing, but when you’re in the shop, suddenly you’re not sure what to buy anymore.” Lyra chuckles at Vergil’s confused expression.

“Evidently,” Vergil picks an antique revolver. “I think I want to give her a weapon.”

“Is Kyrie an excellent combatant?”

“She can take care of herself, though she still needs a lot of practice, but she won’t survive a second if she had to fight multiple opponents.”

“Mmmm... okay but... how about something for protection from the demons?”

“That will do. It’s way more practical and useful.”

“Alright. Let’s ask the shopkeeper.”

Vergil points his chin at the counter. “She’s sleeping.”

“I’ll wake her up.” Lyra fixates her focus on the shopkeeper until she slowly raises her head from the counter table and rubs her eyes.

Vergil almost couldn’t hide his amusement. She can wake someone up from slumber? How advanced is her ability actually?

The shopkeeper yawns loudly. “Welcome. How can I help y’all?”

“We’re looking for an item for protection from demons. Do you have anything suitable for that?” Lyra asks.

The shopkeeper looks straight to Lyra’s eyes, then to Vergil’s. She sighs as she walks to the weapon cabinet. “I don’t have much of that, but I have this one. Take a look.” she mumbles, handing Lyra a red music box. The music box looks captivating with a rose pattern carved on the box. When Lyra opens the music box, Vergil recognizes the box is playing Bach’s The Well-Tempered Clavier.

“Lovely, but I don’t see what’s so special about the music box,” Vergil mutters his doubt.  

“Easy, dude. Push the button near the mirror to open the secret room behind it.”

Lyra does the exact instruction until the secret room is opened and reveals a golden bracelet inside.

“What’s that for?” Lyra asks.

“It will glow red whenever there's demons nearby,” the shopkeeper lights her cigarette and walks back to the counter. “When the bracelet glows, you press it and close your eyes, because it will cast a very blinding light. It’ll blind and burn demons and that’s the best time for you to run away.”

Lyra glances at Vergil, who’s examining the music box and the bracelet. She holds her giggle when she notices that the bracelet glows in red when Vergil holds it and abruptly puts it back to the secret room behind the mirror before the shopkeeper notices it.

“I guess the bracelet couldn’t distinguish demons and cambions,” she whispers to him.

“This should be fine,” Vergil forms a satisfied grin. “It has both protection advantage and aesthetical function. Perfect.”

“You take that?!” the shopkeeper shouts eagerly.

“Yes,” Vergil replies. “Is there a money-back guarantee in case the item doesn’t properly work?”

“This is an antique shop, dude. Some items might not working at all—”

“I believe I don’t have to repeat myself.” Vergil insists.

The shopkeeper gulps at Vergil’s unspeakable death threat within his icy eyes, knowing that there’s no use to argue with a man like Vergil. “Dammit, fine! Now can I get my money?”

Lyra howls with laughter, “Blimey, you are a terrifying customer.”

Vergil grins in pride as he heads to the counter.

---

The birthday party will begin in an hour, but Vergil chooses to spend the rest of the time with Lyra at the Sparda Manor. During the day time, they only meet in the library. That makes their little adventure today seem rare... and fun. Lyra buys them ice creams at the end of their journey in Nova Town. She can’t hold her laughter when she catches Vergil’s eyes sparking in childish interest as he holds his ice cream once the magic portal opens its way to the Manor.

“The shopkeeper was different from the one whom I met two years ago. He was nice and helpful,” Lyra murmurs, licking her bubblegum ice cream. “Guess he didn’t work there anymore. We get a sleepyhead instead.”

Vergil says nothing as he examines his blueberry ice cream cone. His memory of V eating cheeseburger hits him. “Why do humans think that creating something messy is a good idea?”

“It’s called innovation, Vergil.”

“Messy innovation.”

“As long as people like it, it is considered as a great innovation.”

He finally gives up and chomps his ice cream. “This is not bad.”

“Tell me this is not your first time eating ice cream.”

“I might be inexperienced in human lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean I never tasted ice cream.”

It’s strange, Vergil recalls the moment when they used to be strangers before Almagest helped them to get closer. Now they stand side by side and talk about stuff like old friends to the point where he could never get enough of her companionship. He lets her wander around his childhood house, even if he barely calls it a house now. He lets out a silent chuckle when she lifts a pile of rocks up to the air just to see what hides behind it, only to find another ruins and she’s slightly disappointed.

“For a second I thought your father was Johann Sebastian Bach.” Lyra looks up at Sparda’s family painting.

“You are not the first person who said that.”

She laughs. “Oh look at you… stoic since you were born. And I already got a picture on Dante being impatient while the painter kept asking him to stand still.”

“Pretty much correct. He complained how itchy his feet were at the end of the session.”

“Your mother was gorgeous,” Lyra admires Eva’s angelic stature. “No wonder Sparda fell for her.”

Vergil forms a wistful smile. “She was.”

“This painting reminds me of The Picture of Dorian Gray .”

“Pray tell, why?”

“Dorian sold his soul to the devil for eternal youth, and it decayed his self-portrait painting every time he did a sin. Of course your family portrait is a different case, but you see, your mother’s face is the only one that didn’t get burned by fire. It’s like a sign that she was the only human in the family…”

“And the rest of the family members were cursed by the evil blood that ran in their veins. That’s why the faces of the three of us were burned. That’s a picturesque perspective.”

“I didn’t say that demon is always evil—”

“I know. Still, it’s a good metaphor. Haven’t thought of it myself.”

“Why don’t you take the painting with you? People keep their family portrait in their house.”

“Dante and I agreed to leave it here as a sign that this mansion once belonged to our family. Besides, I can’t imagine such a painting to be hanged on the shop’s soiled wall. It would be a disgrace for the painting itself.”

“Now that you mentioned it, I think you are right.”

Lyra continues to lift some rocks and put it back carefully once she finds nothing interesting.. “Have you been in there again after you escaped the Underworld with Dante?”

“To collect mementos, yes. Though, as you can see, nothing much was left since Urizen destroyed the whole city. Not to mention almost all parts of the house were destroyed or blocked by pillars and huge stones. We tried to remove them, but it’d cause a domino effect throughout the manor and demolish it completely.” 

“How did it feel to visit your childhood home again?”

Vergil swallows his ice cream at once. He puts a handkerchief out from his coat and wipes his lips. “It felt mostly heartbreaking.”

“I see,” Lyra nods and gives Vergil a light pat on his shoulder. “Not everyone could even come back to the place where their trauma began. Not that it’s necessary. I just found it encouraging.”

“Speaking of memento, what was the most valuable present you had ever received?” Vergil curiously asks.

“Oh, we start to have a small talk now?”

“I thought we agreed to trust each other, don’t we? Then we should start from mundane things.”

“Alright. Make sense. Let me recall it… mmmm… oh right! A lyre!”

“You play lyre? Amazing.”

“I thought you were about to say ironic.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“You know, a lyre plays a lyre.”

Vergil smirks, recalling her remark on their previous little adventure, “You’re right. It’s ironically amazing.”

The librarian rolls her eyes as she bites the ice cream cone. “My mum bought me one for my fifth birthday. It only lasted for two months before I asked her to give me a harp for the next birthday.”

“Did she finally buy you a harp?”

“She didn’t.”

“Why?”

“She died before my next birthday.”

Vergil immediately stared at Lyra’s sullen eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles at him, chewing the last part of her cone. “It was a long time ago.”

Lyra has so many things she hides behind her amicable demeanor, and Vergil should’ve feel relieved because after all these months, Lyra finally opens up a little bit about her family, yet he doesn’t feel it at all.

“Were you close with your mother?” Vergil’s tone is full of consideration.

Lyra taps her fingers on her chin. “I guess so. We only had each other.”

“… How did she… die?”

The librarian smirks at him. “If I told you she fell from the tree, would you believe me?”

“Only if that’s the truth.”

She goes silent for a while, seeming unwilling to continue her story. She opens an empty drawer, looking at nothingness for a while. “You might’ve heard about her.”

“Your mother?”

“Uh-uh,” Lyra nods calmly, but Vergil senses a slight hesitation. “Her name was Asteria Crescent.”

Impossible! “The award-winning astronomer?”

“Astrobiologist, yes.”

“I see. That explains your fondness of astronomy.”

The first time Vergil heard about Asteria Crescent was when he was eleven years old, still homeless and constantly moved out from place to place in search of power. Asteria’s groundbreaking research of modern astrobiology broke the news. Her discovery led the scientists to rethink human’s position in this world and question the exact location of the Underworld in the known universe, considering demons as an extraterrestrial creature with its own origin and evolution. Demons and magic are inseparable, but Asteria Crescent was brave to make a further step to explain demonology in a scientific approach. Science and magic are two sides of a coin , Vergil recalls her statements. Science just has yet to understand magic.

“Asteria was a Titan goddess of falling stars and nighttime divinations. That suited her very well,” Lyra chuckles bitterly, swinging her hand to lift a pile of ruins back to its place. “I once wondered why she didn’t name me Hecate, daughter of Asteria and goddess of witchcraft. Maybe at that time, she didn’t have a thought that someday I’ll develop this… psychic ability.”

“The media never reported anything regarding her cause of death. It happened all so sudden, they said.”

“They always spoke highly of her. But when she died, they turned the story into rumors and gossip.”

“So did she fall from the tree?”

“She did fall.”

“But not from the tree.”

Vergil’s demonic eyes catch Lyra’s body slightly flinching, but she maintains her calmness and fakes a smile. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you further about your private life.”

“You entrusted me your biggest secret. I intend to do so. I’m just… not ready to open up, but I know that I want to.”

“When I said that we should try to trust each other, I didn't mean that you should abruptly open yourself to me.”

“Too late. Now you know I’m the daughter of a dead astrobiologist.”

“Why did you change your surname then?”

Lyra stops and gazes at Vergil. She seems anxious while glancing at her surroundings carefully, as if she’s afraid that someone else would hear them. Vergil slightly bows his body when Lyra whispers in his ear.

“I’m being hunted.”

The furrow on Vergil’s brow is going deeper. “By whom?”

“Someone who wants to abuse my power. That’s why I need to change my surname and hang out around wearing eyeglasses, so people won’t find out about my identity.”

For a moment, they stand still there, staring at each other’s eyes to find some clues. It’s logical that Lyra’s unique ability would attract power-seekers, be it humans or demons. Vergil knows it too well; the danger of possessing a greater power. A part of him wants to believe her words…

If only he failed to spot a subtle grin on the corner of her lips.

I would be absolutely fooled by her deception, Vergil grunts discontentedly. "You are lying, aren’t you?”

Lyra’s laughter echoes throughout the lake.

Vergil snarls at her unstoppable giggle. "Quite a jester, I see.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Vergil doesn’t bother to reply, because he knows it would lead to another bickering. He doesn’t try to hide his amused smile too, even though Lyra teases him about the ‘sly devil smile’. To be honest, he couldn’t care less. He just wants to see her smile, her true smile.

Like the way she’s smiling right now.

“Do you want to have a look at the lake?” Vergil offers, trying to lift the mood. “There’s nothing left to see here.”

“Sure!”

They sit on the cobblestone pier in the lake while admiring the twilight sky. It’s Vergil’s favorite place, ever since he was a child. This place has changed; there are no more Qliphoth roots left and there are several trees and wildflowers growing on the land. The lake no longer contains human blood. It’s mesmerizing how fast time flies and changes the entire city.

“I used to spend my days here, reading and playing with Dante,” Vergil says. “We loved being here more than staying indoors.”

“I can see the reason. It’s bloody beautiful here.” Lyra mutters her admiration. She taps her fingers on the cobblestone playfully, causing a small rift in the lake.

“Dante once pushed me to the lake because we fought over a chocolate bar,” Vergil recalls one of his precious memories. “I pretended to be drowned. He pulled me out of the water and cried, pleaded to me for not leaving him alone and that he’s sorry. Promised me that he won’t disturb me again. Right when he shook my body to wake me up, I pushed him to the lake but he managed to drag me with him.”

Lyra can’t hold her howls of laughter. She chortles until her stomach hurts and her throat gets sore. Vergil swears he never saw her laughing like this. “I’m sorry— I— HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Lower your voice,” Vergil grunts. He starts to regret his decision for rambling about his childhood antics just to get rid of Lyra’s gloomy face. “You might end up choking yourself to death.”

“ Pfffftttt!”

“Will you shut up?!”

“Sorry!” Lyra bites her thumb to hold her cackle but fails. “I just… bwahahaha! It seems that ‘never hold a grudge to the people who wronged you’ is true!”

Vergil pulls her thumb away from her teeth, caressing her reddened thumb. “A little deeper, you would bleed your thumb.”

The careful touch from Vergil distracts Lyra for a while. It’s the first time he holds her without gloves on, and it surprises her how soft his palm is despite the fact that he is a warrior who wields various weapons. Her thumb slips lightly from his palm. “Even if I bleed, I got your Lucy Pevensie’s cordial to heal me.”

Vergil sighs heavily as he removes some strands of Lyra’s hair from her forehead. “I gave it to you for an emergency case only. The cordial was made mostly from demon’s blood, mixed with rare herbs and some complicated spells to make it suitable for human’s bodies. Even the bottle was made from demon’s materials to prevent physical damage. Trish produced only a few bottles of cordial, so use it wisely.”

“I will,” Lyra picks out the cordial bottle from her bag and shows it to Vergil. “See? I haven’t used it since Capulet.”

“Put it back into your bag before it slipped from your hand and fell into the lake.”

“Alright alright! Why do you sound a lot like my mother?” Lyra puts the bottle back into her bag.

“You are clumsy and easily distracted. I have to keep my eyes on you every time. It’s rather distressing.”

“I can take care of myself!” Lyra lays a punch on Vergil’s chest. “Remember, I weakened Phantom last week, so you devil twins could kill that spider easily!”

The cambion smirks disdainfully to her weak strike. He puts something off from the back of his coat and hands it to Lyra. It’s an old book with a black leatherbound with the title engraved in a beautiful golden emboss. “Your payment for escorting me today.”

Lyra observes the front cover with beaming eyes. “The Poems of Edgar Allan Poe...”

“It’s one of the mementos I brought from the Manor. I reckon you would love Poe, given to your fondness of horror and mystery.”

“Then I have to refuse! It’s yours!”

“I believe I made myself clear when I said the book is for you.”

Lyra was about to refuse again, but quickly zip her mouth when Vergil glared at her with his terrifying and undeniable gaze. He won’t take any ‘no’ from her. She flips the pages, and something almost falls from the book before Lyra catches it quickly; an antique necklace with an obsidian pendant. She takes a closer look at the pendant and recognizes the familiar white, shiny dots pattern on it— the Lyra constellation.  

“… did you pick this one too from the manor?” Lyra asks carefully.

“… it was from the antique shop.”

“I didn’t see you strolling around the jewelry section.”

“It was displayed on the counter. Nothing special. Just normal jewelry. The pattern just reminded me of you—”

Vergil can’t finish his sentence because Lyra wraps her arms between his waist, locking him in a tight embrace. He can feel the strange, but comfortable warmth fills his body as he returns to hug her without hesitation. Her body is so small and shorter compared to his height that he needs to bow slightly in order to balance the embrace. He loves her scent— a strange mixture of peach, black tea and old roses— and quietly inhales the intoxicating fragrance from her hair. He feels like he could do this all day.

“Thank you,” Lyra’s murmur vibrates his chest. “I’ll cherish this forever.”

“It's just a book and a necklace.”

“These are the best presents since the lyre from my mum!” she chuckles. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually hug people around.”

“Neither do I.”

“So let us hug a bit longer, shall we?”

“It looks like I have no choices but to comply.”

For a moment, they banish their distrusts about each other, breaking the adamant barrier and wishing the time to stop ticking.  

---

Yesterday, Lyra dreamt of a boy who wanders around a big house.

She thought it was just a meaningless dream, at least until she realized that she was the boy himself. She looked at her—  his — reflection in the mirror; the little boy was handsome with swept back silver hair and a black pajama. His serious and grumpy expression reminded of someone she couldn’t remember yet. She— the boy —wandered off around a big and dark house. It wasn’t her own intention; like her movement was controlled by someone else. She opened a chamber and let herself in. There was a woman who lay unconscious on the bed. Lyra could see traces of tears on the woman’s sullen face. Her body forced her to lift the quilt to cover the woman’s body and tip-toed herself out from the room.

When she was about to go back to her room, she heard a wheezing cry and followed the voice to the main hall. It didn’t take her too long to find out the source of the voice as her hand reached to open a white drawer, where another little boy with the same silver hair cried inside it.

“Vergil…” that little boy stared at her with a turbulent sob coming out from his mouth. “Father… you… you d-d-don’t believe that he died… r-right?”

I am…Vergil?

Does that mean that this crying boy… Dante?

The next thing Lyra remembered was she woke up with tears stream down her face like a waterfall, soaking her pillow. She was sure the sadness she felt in the entire dream wasn’t hers, but Vergil and Dante’s. She was going to tell Vergil about her strange dream when she saw the exact same white drawer in her dream at Sparda Manor, but she thought she was biased. Vergil had told her about how devastated his family was when they heard that Sparda was deceased, and her dream must be just her brain playing a trick to her.

But then she thought, Vergil never told me that he found Dante hiding and crying in that draw…

Tonight, Lyra falls into another strange dream. Even weirder and scarier. A titanic, god-like demon tortured her in the most unimaginably painful way. Her entire body was chained and spiked. The demon was merciless. His face was full of disgust and hatred as he spat her insults and penetrated her head with dreadful illusions she couldn’t even envision. He kept calling her “disgraceful offspring of the traitor Sparda”. It was only then she realized that she wasn’t herself, but Vergil.

Lyra fights herself to wake up, and is barely successful. The dream is too visceral that she almost still can feel the pain all over the body as she opens her eyes. Her back is wet from her own sweat.

Why do I keep dreaming of him? Moreover, I never experienced this kind of pain…

Does it have something to do with our accidental mind link on that day? Strange things have happened since then...

Her wave of thoughts are interrupted by the sudden thirst in her throat. She snaps her fingers and the light from the lamp brightens the bedroom. The door cracks slowly to open its way for Lyra. The librarian walks with leaden steps as she rubs her sleepy eyes. She almost stumbled upon a chair when she entered the kitchen.

“A cuppa sounds delightful to cure nightmares,” Lyra mumbles at herself, swinging her hand to summon a cup from the drawer. The cup flies and lands right in front of her, but she makes no further movement but staring blankly at the cup. Her body is still shivering by the imaginary pain from her nightmare.

“From all the people in the world, why does it have to be Vergil? This mind link is vexing me...”

The harsh cry of a raven causes Lyra to glance over the kitchen’s window. She curves a light smile while opening the window and lets a little raven enter her house. The raven lands on her shoulder for a while before flying around the house and lands on the kitchen counter.

“Where have you been, Corvus? Haven’t seen you for days!” Lyra greets the raven.

The little bird tilts its head and squawks. Lyra giggles as she pats the raven’s head. “Hey look. My friend gave his poem book to me and one of the titles is The Raven. I like it, by the way. And I’ve been thinking about him lately, even dreaming about him. To be honest, it’s disturbing. Do you think I should invite him here and tell him the truth?”

The raven gives her a nod.

“You are right. A cuppa is best served with a friend, don’t you think?”

Corvus flaps its wings eagerly. The black bird flies around Lyra’s head before making its way outside the house.

“Leaving already? You haven’t eaten yet!” Lyra shouts at the raven. “Alright then, send my regard to your girlfriend!”

Corvus squawks something like a curse, causing Lyra to barks in laughter. She heads back to the counter as she turns on the radio to entertain her confusing state of mind, picking the channel telepathically until she finds her favourite channel. She listens to the song while summoning her phone from the bedroom, tapping the screen until Vergil’s contact name pops on the screen.

Down in the willow garden

Where me and my love did meet

As we sat a-courtin'

My love fell off to sleep

I had a bottle of burgundy wine

My love, she did not know

So I poisoned that dear little girl

On the banks below

I drew a saber through her

It was a bloody knife

I threw her in the river

Which was a dreadful sign

“By Jove, that song is sinister,” Lyra chuckles darkly. Her solemn face is turning pale. “As for the poisoned little girl… well…”

She clicks Vergil’s name, waiting for the devil to answer with fingers tangled between the black pendant on her neck, hoping half-heartedly that he wouldn’t pick her call.

~~~

A/N : the song mentioned at the end of the chapter is “Down In The Willow Garden” by The Everly Brothers.

Tagging : @drusoona @harlot-of-oblivion @queenmuzz @shiranyaaww @andieperrie18 @rubixa-seraph @blooddrop-palace (I honestly forgot who to tag, so if you want to be tagged just send you reply or DM me! XD)

Masterlist | AO3

[themangoyogurt]

Clementine: Chapter 3

Kylo had to hand it to you. Despite your questionable business sense, you had a fantastic eye. The space you found was in a prime location, neighbored by a trendy womenswear boutique on the left and a hot new restaurant headed by a celebrity chef to the right. The space itself was a perfect mix of industrial and bright, with open white washed ceilings and a modern concrete flooring.

Watching you gush as you stood outside staring in through the window only steeled his resolve to help make your dream come true no matter the cost. After spending the entirety of his life stepping on the “little guys” to make his bottom line, he felt it was appropriate to atone for his sins.

The fact that you had a million-watt smile and an infectiously bubbly personality only sweetened the deal.

You continued to bounce between the left and right floor-to-ceiling windows flanking the front entrance. As you hopped back and forth, you rambled off all your ideas to transform the space into a warm and inviting neighborhood spot.

It was going to be equal parts trendy and homey. Shelves filled to the brim with new and old books alike, ready to be borrowed or bought. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans would permeate the air, causing a heady mix of warmth and relaxation. There would be nooks and crannies with the coziest chairs and sofas for patrons to gather, sip coffee, snack on freshly baked pastries, and catch up on reading.

Kylo admitted that even to an anti-social recluse such as himself, the concept sounded like a dream. If he had still been working, he would have enjoyed a little escape from the office to focus on work.

Despite his pleasant daydreams though, nothing could stop his spine from stiffening as soon as the landlord made his presence known. He was a sorry looking man, equal in width and height. The balding man had beady little eyes that narrowed into slits as soon as he caught sight of Kylo.

Kylo’s hackles rose even higher as the landlord completely ignored him and turned to give you a very lewd look.

“Hi Plutt,” you chirped, completely oblivious to the tension between the two men. “This is Kylo. He’s my friend and lawyer!” You gave Kylo an extra little eyebrow wiggle at “lawyer”, a silent tease at how different he looked today.

He had rocked up to your meeting far more dressed than he was the previous night. Gone were the fuzzy slippers. Instead, he was clad in a black suit with a matching black dress shirt that struggled to contain the man’s wide chest and thick arms.

Who would have thought that the slobbish raven haired man could clean up so well? While you weren’t really one to judge a book by its cover, even you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he had proclaimed himself to be a retired, yet fearsome, corporate lawyer.

It was adorable how the more disbelieving you looked, the harder he fought to convince you that he really was a big, bad, lawyer. You giggled at the memory of how he was so focused on the argument that Kylo didn’t even notice a drop of lukewarm tea dribble down his chin and land between his pecs.

His very defined and firm looking pecs, if you had to say so yourself.

You shook your head out of the memory, scolding yourself for getting distracted. It was time for business, and you were prepped to fight for the storefront of your dreams. During your walk over to the shop, you had divulged as much info as you could to Kylo. Things like your budget, business plan (although, business “plan” would have been more accurate), and even your credit score.

You probably shared way too much info, but Kylo didn’t indicate that he was bothered or overwhelmed. The man merely nodded while typing quick notes in his cellphone. He probably had enough info to steal your identity, but something about him just made you trust the man.

Maybe it was in the way his eyes always looked soft, balancing out his perpetual scowl. Or maybe it was how he hung onto your every word, and was one of the few people who seemed genuinely supportive and interested in your dream.

Or, maybe it was in how he defensively postured himself between yourself and Plutt, chest puffing out and stance ready for a fight.

Kylo stuck his hand out and impressively didn’t flinch as Plutt squeezed back with his own moist and grimy hand. Kylo didn’t miss a beat as he harshly dived right in.

“Kylo Ren. I’ve taken a look at your offer, and we are not happy with the upfront terms and conditions. A fixed lease would only...”

Kylo completely transformed within seconds. Years of working with the worst of the worst in the corporate world made him ruthless and unshakable when it came to business dealings. Someone like Plutt didn’t phase Kylo. He was ready to threaten, growl, and glare his way into getting you the best deal possible.

Plus, the caveman portion of his brain beat its chest and flexed at the chance to impress a pretty lady. And if your look of tender awe only spurred him on more... well, that he’d keep for himself.

The entire exchange was a blur to you, the two men exchanging barbs and threats so fast, you could barely keep up. Acronyms like “CAMS” and “TI” were used, and before you knew it, two hours had passed. Kylo was triumphantly squaring away notes in his phone while Plutt sputtered, red in the face.

Apparently the entire situation had gotten away from the man.

“Send over the contract by midday tomorrow,” Kylo lazily commanded Plutt, before leading your stunned body away from the building. His hand was warm in the crook of your elbow while he steered you towards the nearest Starbucks.

He seemed tense during the short walk over, letting out a huge exhale as he slumped into the closest empty seat. You felt concerned as his pale complexion somehow became even paler. Without prompting, you darted away to find some water.

“Are you okay?” you asked upon returning. He seemed calmer, but received the cool plastic cup with gratitude.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do that.”

“But you were so cool,” you gushed in response. You instinctively reached out to hold his shaky hands. Giving him a light squeeze you continued, “I’ve never seen someone talk like that before! Or...or stick up for me so fiercely. Like my knight in shining armor!”

Your eyes twinkled in excitement, so filled with joy that Kylo couldn’t help but be affected. He smiled and flipped his palm upwards so he could lace his fingers with yours. He squeezed back and laughed, “Well, you don’t seem like someone who needs saving. Just someone who could use someone in their corner.”

“Then I’m glad you’re in mine. Even if we don’t know each other very well.”

His heart fluttered at your shy smile, and Kylo replied, “Why don’t we start, then? Getting to know each other that is. Let me buy you some coffee?” Now significantly calmed by your touch he added a flirtatious eyebrow waggle and added, “Maybe even dinner afterwards?”

You playfully smacked him in the chest and argued, “I thought I was the one buying coffee.”

“Alright. You buy me coffee and we’ll go over the terms and conditions of your new lease. Then, I take you out for dinner.”

It was definitely a deal too good to pass up, so you happily bounded to the counter to buy his S’mores Frappuccino (the man really was full of surprises, wasn’t he?). You decided that it would be cute to match, and ordered one for yourself as well.

A few minutes later, and you were returning to the table with two icy and teeth-rotting drinks. Kylo was all but recovered, and lawyer man was back in full swing. You happily noticed that while he was all business while going through your lease, his expression and tone was far softer than what he had used earlier in the day.

You were shocked at how Kylo had cut such a favorable deal for you. The man was kind in explaining why certain things were more beneficial for the tenant, and even helped you understand places where Plutt was trying to take advantage.

The initial offer was apparently horrible, and would have surely trapped you into some serious debt. Kylo made sure that your lease was fair, and that you would have enough money leftover to help your new business flourish.

Kylo sipped on the last of his drink, unaware of some leftover whipped cream resting on his top lip. Without thinking, you reached across the table and wiped it off with your thumb. You instinctively sucked the digit between your lips, earning a blush from Kylo.

“Ah,” he stuttered. “All that’s left is to sign. If you could send me your business license and some tax documents, I could help you file everything.”

A little furrow appeared between your brow, causing Kylo to frown. He had a bad feeling about this.

“You do...have a business license, right?” he tentatively pushed.

“Depends on what you mean by ‘business license’...”

He groaned, dropping his face into his palms. You felt sheepish, and ridiculously uneducated. Just as you were about to die from embarrassment, Kylo finally looked up.

He cast you a small smile and calmly replied, “Alright, this is what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you out to dinner as promised. Then, I’m going to take you home. You’re going to change into something comfortable, grab your laptop and personal documents, and then we’ll hammer out the final details of starting your business.”

“You...you’d seriously do that for me? At the risk of sounding totally ungrateful... why?”

Nobody had ever been this kind to you. If even your own blood could laugh away at your grand dreams of opening a business in New York City, then how could a stranger be so supportive? Not only was he gentle with you, but the man went out of his way to help you in tangible ways.

Retired or not, what kind of high-powered lawyer took an entire day to go fight a small-time landlord like Plutt on behalf of a new neighbor?

Kylo asked himself the same question. Growing up as an only child and then going into a field like law didn’t exactly foster selflessness in his personality. He was used to putting himself first and stopping at nothing to achieve his goals.

Something about your bright eyes and hopeful smile made him pause. He spent so many years of his life tearing things down - people, places, relationships. Perhaps, he saw this as a chance to redeem himself. To finally use his skills to build.

And hey, if the object of his newfound efforts happened to be a very pretty and very sweet woman, then that was just a bonus.

He gave you a smile and replied, “Honestly, I don’t know. But something about you tells me that I won’t regret it.”

That was good enough for you.

💖 Masterlist

[rainythefox]

Reap What You Sow (FarCry 5 fanfic)

Chapter 9: The Red Room

He guided the pen along the parchment in slow, graceful loops and turns, forming words that the Voice spoke to him. He had lost track of time, he was sure, the church deathly quiet with only his thoughts to distract him and the Voice to guide him. Thunder faintly rattled in the distance, but only a light drizzle fell from the darkening clouds for now.

The groaning of door hinges echoed through the empty church, soft, gray light spilling in from outside before the door closed shut, leaving behind a cool breath of wind.

Joseph paused in his writing. The boots stepped along the nave, coming towards where he sat at the altar in the back of the church. There were more than just the boots walking along the wooden floor. The ticking of claws, he heard, walking evenly with the boots. A slower, softer pair of footsteps were behind the boots.

The Father was quiet, scooting his chair back from his makeshift desk he made near the lectern. He rose, his back still to them. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, taking a moment to clear his head.

"Joseph."

His eyes opened. He slowly turned around, looking down at Jacob as he stood just before the chancel. His Judge, Gideon, stood at his side at attention. Behind him, stood a smaller, lankier young man who held his arms crossed close to his chest, eyes darting around.

"Here he is, just as you've asked," Jacob stated, motioning to the follower behind him. "Come on, beanpole."

The young man stared up at Joseph in awe. The Father stepped down off the chancel to even his height with theirs. It took him but a moment to recall who the young man was and why he had Jacob bring him here. Smiling, Joseph held his arms out beckoning the man forward to him.

"Ah, yes. Aiden. Come here, my child."

Jacob stepped aside, folding his arms. Gideon sat on his haunches, ears pricking at Jacob's every movement. Joseph could tell the young man was nervous as he stepped over to him, but he didn't miss the child-like wonder the young man held as he listened.

"F-Father, it's an honor. Bless be to you!" Aiden greeted giddily.

Joseph cupped his hands on either side of the young man's face, peering at him for a moment. "Look at you, Aiden. You've grown spiritually since I last saw you. How are you faring?"

"I-I'm doing fine, just fine. Thank you for asking, Father. I-Is there anything I can do for you? I would love to serve you in any way that I ca-can!"

Joseph twitched his lips, the smile barely noticeable. He patted Aiden on the shoulder. "I love your passion, Aiden. It is people like you who are the heart and soul of this Project. Go and sit right over there on that pew, I will be with you shortly."

He motioned down at the rows of pews and Aiden nodded. The young man left Joseph's side, picking the front pew to sit down on and wait. Joseph motioned at Jacob and turned, stepping up onto the chancel and walking into the back to the sanctuary. Jacob gave a cue to Gideon, and the Judge remained sitting where he was, eyes fixed on Aiden.

Jacob followed behind his brother to the sanctuary. He remained stoic, waiting for Joseph to initiate the conversation.

"So, I heard correctly? You also captured Allison?"

Jacob dipped his head. "Yeah. She's with John now. He took her last night."

"She's escaped him once already. Did you track her to the Henbane River? Is that how you caught her?"

"It was John. He used her brother back there to set her up, draw her out. Knew exactly what she was gonna do. I just picked her up for him as a favor."

Joseph choked on a laugh. "I thought we were better than having to resort to trickery and deceit to guide the lost into our fold?"

Jacob glanced back towards Gideon and Aiden for a moment, then shrugged. "It's not my usual tactic either, but it worked. The deputy is flighty, and she's resourceful. She isn't like the others, and John knows that. He's already got her figured out, and he used that knowledge to get her back to us. In the end, it prevents her from inflicting anymore damage on this Project."

Joseph heaved a sigh, closing his eyes and looking away. "I suppose you're right. I'm just…disappointed in him. I went to the Cleansing the other night when I was told of her capture. And John…he was…mocking the Cleansing, playing with her, almost drowning her. Like a cat with a mouse, and I saw it. I saw his sins seeping out and he wasn't bothering to contain them."

Joseph looked to Jacob, but his older brother remained quiet, watching him closely, strong arms folded and still like a statue.

"He and Allison have a lot in common…so much they can share. I thought, maybe if I gave him an ultimatum it would wake him up. I told him, he would get her to atone, to become one with us, or the Gates of Eden would be shut to him."

Jacob slowly nodded. "You think he can do it?"

Joseph ran his fingers over the dancing tips of candlelight fire of a nearby table, taking comfort with their warmth. "Of course I do. I have faith in him. The question is, does he have faith in himself?"

"Then what troubles you?" Jacob asked.

"You know me too well," Joseph chuckled. The Father then sighed once more, clenching the hand with the rosemary necklace. "I don't know, I think…maybe I was a bit too hard on him. Or do you think I wasn't hard enough?"

Jacob laughed this time. "Joseph, you never second guess yourself on anything. What makes this different? Because it's John? You know how he is. He sways back and forth. He's…damaged. You know that, like the both of us. He's just…got a bit more to go."

"I know why he is the way he is," Joseph replied, voice soft. "I just fear his constant slipping will be the damnation of him…or the death, whichever comes first."

Jacob became noticeably uncomfortable, a rare sight. It caught Joseph off guard, although he didn't show it. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked to his older brother. Jacob had his jaw gritted, eyes down at his feet, a single fist clenched.

"What is it, brother?"

Jacob swallowed whatever that was troubling him. "N-nothing. Just a lot on my mind."

Joseph narrowed his eyes at Jacob. "You know better. Tell me what troubles you."

Jacob was silent for a long moment. "We've been through this lots of times…I still…blame myself."

Joseph looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"When I burned down that farm and killed our foster parents for the way they were treating us…I was trying to protect us. But it tore us apart. It left you alone in that god-awful orphanage and it put John in the hands of those…fucking Duncans. It's my fault John is…well, messed up."

Joseph put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. "No, it isn't your fault. We had our own paths to walk in life. It was God putting us through our own trials, preparing us for what we are doing right now, in this moment. It seems harsh, but it was necessary. We've overcome those trials. And now we are here…together. That is what matters now."

Jacob closed his eyes. "If that is what you think."

"It is what I know," Joseph replied, removing his hand, his eyes remaining on his brother. After a moment, the Father stepped back and motioned to the soldier. "You look tired, Jacob. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is another day."

Jacob slowly nodded. "What about Aiden?"

"I'll keep him with me for now. Come now."

Joseph escorted Jacob to the front of the church, even walking with him to the front doors. Jacob whistled for Gideon to follow, and the bleached wolf got to his paws and padded along with the oldest Seed brother. Joseph opened the door for Jacob. Cool wind swept into the dim lit church, the drizzle having been pushed into a steady downpour now.

"Rest, dear brother. I will talk with you soon," Joseph said.

Jacob merely nodded, stepping out into the rain. Joseph could still tell that Jacob was unsure, stuck in his head with his own doubts of the past. Joseph called out to him again, and the soldier stopped, turning back to him.

"One last thing," Joseph said. "Is it true that John murdered two of his followers in his own home?"

A stranger wouldn't have been able to see the faintest of flinches in the rigid soldier's posture, but Joseph knew his brother too well, and caught it on the spot. Jacob shook his head. "No. They were a danger to the Project. And so, John handled them the way I would've."

Joseph barely tipped his head, pulling the door closed. He stood there a moment, not sure to be in shock or troubled that Jacob had lied to him. Jacob had never lied to him before. A sneeze caught his attention, and the worry left him as the Father turned, remembering Aiden.

The prophet walked over to the young man. Upon seeing him approach, Aiden eagerly jumped to his feet to show his courtesy. Joseph motioned for the young man to follow him, and they stepped up onto the chancel and went into the back into the sanctuary. Joseph pulled up a chair for Aiden, patting the top of it. Aiden was quiet as he slipped into it. The Father sat down in front of him in his own chair. Aiden's eyes looked around, admiring the church's scriptures written on the walls as well as the décor.

"Do you know why I asked for you, Aiden?" Joseph asked gently, studying the young man intently.

Aiden shook his head, still looking nervous. "N-no Father. How can I be of service to you? It would be an honor!"

The Father's lips twitched, revealing the faintest of smirks. "I was hoping you could do a favor for me."

"S-sure! What is it?"

"Your sister, Allison, I wish to know all there is to know about her. Could you tell me about her? About your lives growing up?"

Aiden lowered his eyes, deflating a little. "Oh…s-sure."

"Something the matter, my boy?"

"I just…I know she's been causing trouble. Are you…are you going to hurt her?"

Joseph leaned in closer, his elbows resting on his thighs. "Of course not. I want to save her. You know that is what I do. Allison is a sinner, just as you used to be. If I am to save her, to bring her within our family, I must understand her better. I must know why she is the way she is. Can you help me?"

Aiden slowly nodded, looking almost pained. "O-of course. I'll do my best. What would you like to know first?"

Again, the Father's lips twitched into a ghostly smirk. "Start from the beginning."

Her head was pounding, pain seeping through her skull and limbs. She felt high, really high. She remembered hearing faint voices in her head, voices from the past. She wondered if it had all been a dream and she would be waking up in a jail cell from shooting up too much or from getting in a brawl at a bar.

When Allison's eyes opened though, she realized it wasn't a dream, and that her nightmare continued. She blinked, tears from the Bliss watering her eyes as she tried to shake the blurriness from them. She realized she was in a chair. She tried to reach up and touch her aching head but found her arms were bound to the chair. The cloudiness in her mind from the Bliss slowly started to dissipate the more she became aware.

A red light cast the room in a splay of crimson and shadow, bathing walls and the floor in the shade of blood. Allie couldn't quite understand what kind of room she was in. One wall, though mostly in shadow, she could tell was concrete, to her left. The wall to her right was metal bars crisscrossed like a large animal cage, and the red light cast the square shadows across the floor. She saw heavy equipment in the back corner, but for what, she couldn't quite know for sure. The floor was diamond metal steel, although Allie noticed bloody towels and rubber mats strewn around the floor as well. Large cables laid across the floor in certain areas, connecting to heavy equipment or disappearing into the walls.

A small table sat just to the left of her chair with a lamp on it. She also saw a propane torch and a Book of Joseph there as well. She saw another table with a backboard attached to it to her right. The room smelled of mildew and concrete, although Allie smelled a small tang of something rotten as well. None of these things helped her figure out exactly where she was.

She heard struggling, heard muffled cries. Blinking, she saw a figure across the room she was sitting in. There was another person, like her, bound to a chair. They struggled with their bindings, crying out in muffled sounds to her, and Allie realized their mouth was covered in duct tape. It took her a moment, but she realized the person across from her was Joey Hudson. Then it hit Allison. She had to have been in John's bunker if Hudson was here with her.

"Hudson!" Allie hissed, relieved to see her coworker, although she could tell that the experienced deputy looked way worse than when they had been split up at the Father's compound. She too started struggling with her binds, looking around for any way to get free. Hudson was trying to speak to her through muffled cries.

A grating sound of metal on metal echoed through the small room, like a large door had been slid open and then back shut. The sound hurt her ears, but Allie noticed that Hudson had fallen quiet. She stopped fighting. That's when she heard the whistling, and her heart leapt to her throat. She knew who it was even before seeing him.

John stepped in front of her, sitting a stainless-steel bowl down on her table that had a sponge and clear liquid in it. The faint smell from it hit her nose, and she could tell it was rubbing alcohol. He kept whistling his tune as he sat a toolbox on the other table to her right, wiping the dust off its surface. Allison recognized the song he was whistling. It was 'We'll Meet Again' by Vera Lynn.

John took a small tray out of the toolbox after he opened it, and then his whistling stopped. Allie darted her eyes around, tugging at her restraints. They didn't budge. Hudson had let her head fall, and she was now quiet. It was troubling to see the fire that was usually within her snuffed out.

John faced her, eyes twinkling as he leaned on the table. Allison felt very much like a bug trapped in a spider's web. And the spider was closing in.

"My parents were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes," John started. He turned around, grabbing something from the toolbox. A staple gun she saw first, and she squinted her eye at the other thing, the thing he was going to staple to the backboard. Cloth? No. Then it dawned on her. Skin…

"One night, they took me to the kitchen, and they threw me on the ground…"

Her heart lurched at the words, and she jumped when the staple gun went off. He turned back to face her.

"And I experienced pain, after pain, after pain, after-" he slammed the staple gun on the table, startling both her and Hudson. Allison had never heard John's voice laced with so much hate than she had in that moment. He took a moment to compose himself, looking from her then to the toolbox once more.

"And when I didn't think I could take anymore…I did."

This time he grabbed a smaller tool, and as he walked towards her with it, Allie realized it was a tattoo gun. She kept his eyes as he came over, flicking on the lamp beside her and moving it to where the light shone on her, making her squint.

"Something…broke free inside. I wasn't scared, I was…" John paused, a twitch from his lips. "Clear."

He took a cord from the table next to Allison and plugged it into the tattoo gun. "I looked up at them and I started to laugh…All I could say was…Yes."

He clicked the tattoo gun on, his eyes still searching hers, lips still holding a small smile, although it felt forced to Allie. The tattoo gun's metallic drilling echoed through the chamber like a haunting sound. She thought about his words, receiving back-flashes of her own vile memories. She shuddered.

John turned the tattoo gun off and sat it on the nearby table. "I spent my entire life looking for more things to say 'yes' to."

His hands were open, and he stepped forward, almost lunging. Allie, thinking he was going to wrap them around her neck, tried to call out but the Bliss still clouding her made it only come out as a whimper, her head pulsing in pain. John didn't grab her throat, instead grabbed a hold of her purple button-up shirt she was wearing. He tore it open, revealing her chest and cleavage and bra. Between the coolness of the air in the room and John's warm breath, her flesh became aroused with goosebumps.

She was frozen as John stared at her chest, his eyes lingering, his fingers caressing along her collarbone and breast, making her gasp.

"I opened up every hole in my body and when those were filled," he now looked up at her. "I created more."

Allison kept his gaze, although she couldn't quite understand what she was feeling at the moment. She was disgusted, but she felt bad for him, the words he was saying that were a nightmare, she knew them. As much as she thought she understood this man, she now knew she was only beginning to scratch the surface. And this scared and intrigued her more than it should have.

John pulled back, picking up the bowl of rubbing alcohol. "But it was Joseph that showed me just how selfish I was being."

He squeezed the excess alcohol out of the sponge and then started rubbing it along her chest. The liquid was cold fire, exfoliating her flesh and making her even colder. The smell hit her nostrils and she coughed.

"Always receiving …always taking. The best gift isn't the one you get, it's the one you give."

John searched her eyes as he rubbed the sponge a few more times over her chest. The excess alcohol trickled down her breasts and soaked her shirt. Allie could only keep his gaze, words still escaping her.

"Giving takes courage," John continued. He pulled back, sitting the bowl down and moving away. She finally took a breath, not realizing she had been holding it. John was back at the bigger table where he had stapled the piece of skin, looking between her and Hudson. "The courage…to own your sin. To etch it onto your flesh and carry its burden and when you have endured…when you have truly begun to atone…"

He stood tall, a light smile back on his lips, his tattooed hands moving to express his words. "To cut it out, like a cancer, and display it for all to see." A small laugh echoed within the red room as he clenched his fists tight, his smile growing wider and surprisingly less malicious. "My god, that's courage."

He took a deep breath, and turned back to the table, grabbing up another tool from the toolbox. A knife sharpener. "I'm going to teach you courage."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and Allison knew it was time to find a way out. She tried to tug at her restraints once more, but they didn't budge.

John's composure changed. He walked forward, holding the knife sharpener tightly. "Teach you how to say 'yes' so you can confront your weaknesses. Confront your sin."

Hudson was shaking her head, weakly tugging on her restraints. John looked between them, turning back to the large table with wide strides.

His voice sounded pained, resolved. "You will swim across an ocean of pain and emerge…free."

John faced her, walking towards her with the knife sharpener pointed directly at her, and she wondered if he could hear her heart speeding in her chest. "For only then can you truly begin to atone."

He jabbed the point of the tool into her collarbone, smirking down at her. He raked it across her skin, and turned away, walking to the table. The knife sharpener didn't cut her, but she felt the welt it caused from his forceful drag of it across her skin.

Allison clenched her jaw, looking to Hudson who had grown quiet again. She looked to John. The Baptist had leaned himself against the larger table, holding the knife sharpener up as he peered between the two deputies in his possession. However, Allison did not miss how John's eyes were more drawn to her.

"So. Who wants to go first? Hm?"

His question made her heart leap to her throat. His eyes burned on her. Allie tore her gaze away, trying to look down at her restraints, her head still hazy from Bliss.

"Which one? Hm?"

She looked up again. John's eyes still held her. Despite his asking, John's lingering eyes on her told Allie that he was expecting her and only her to answer him. But she wanted to fight. And so she remained quiet, tugging at her restraints once more. She saw Hudson's eyes widen across the way, and she shook her head, fighting her own bindings. The duct tape muffled any cries she was trying to let out.

"This is lesson number one…"

Hudson was trying to speak something, her eyes on Allison, but the junior deputy just couldn't understand what she was saying. The loud, muffled sobs just echoed throughout the red room and were lost under John's rising agitation.

"Someone's got to choose!"

He was still staring at Allison, clearly wanting her to say Yes. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Allison tugged on her wrists, wriggled in her chair, groaned out. There had to be a way to escape.

She heard more metallic clacking, and looked up. John had grabbed a hammer from the toolbox and was now walking over to Hudson. Her muffled cries became louder. Allison watched in horror as he slammed the hammer into Hudson's kneecap. The deputy wailed out, and the Baptist drew back the hammer to strike her leg again.

"Stop! Stop! For fuck's sake! Yes! I say Yes!" Allison yelled out. "J-just leave her alone!"

John had ceased. He turned to her, a grin on his face as he tossed the hammer onto the table. It hit the toolbox with a loud crash but remained on the table. He walked over to her and Allie glared at him. Her eyes went to Hudson who shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she stared back at Allie.

"Now that's more like it," John purred. "You won't regret this, Allison. I promise."

He reached up, running his fingers through her hair once more and she winced. He drew back a moment later, going back to his full height. He moved away, pointing over to her coworker.

"Now, before we begin, I think it's only proper that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room."

Hudson started fighting once again when John came nearby to grab her chair. He started rolling her over towards Allison.

"Confessions are meant to be private, after all."

The rolling of the chair's wheels on the metal floor bounced off the walls within the chamber, and Hudson started freaking out. Allison, too, still tugged at her restraints, to escape, to punch John out, to do something. John stopped the chair with Hudson in front of Allie, and hushed them.

"Shh shh shh shhhhhh…I am not here to take your life," John said gently, looking between them. "I'm here to give it to you."

John let go of Hudson's chair and came back over to Allison, moving the lamp out of the way. He towered over her, his hands coming up towards her face. "I'm going to open you and pour your worst fears inside…"

His fingers wrapped around her throat once more and tightened, and for a moment Allie couldn't breath as she stared back at the Baptist. "And as you choke, your sins will reveal themselves."

His fingers loosened to where she could breathe and she gasped, but they lingered there on her throat, caressing her skin. "Only then will you truly understand the Power of Yes."

Allie felt his fingers glide off her neck as he drew back once more. He grabbed ahold of Hudson's chair and she started muffling words again, shaking her head. Allie stared at her in fright, in confusion, not like seeing her so broken and scared.

"I'll be right back," John said, smiling.

"NOOO," Hudson cried through the duct tape on her mouth.

Allison couldn't crane her neck to see behind her as they left. She heard the heavy metal doors open and crash shut, locking her in the red room alone. All became quiet. Only the faint hum of distant machinery echoed along the metallic chambers all around her.

"Fuckin' hell," she hissed, still tugging on her restraints. Frustrated, she started to move her whole body, to find some kind of give in her chair. With small squeaks, the wheels of the chair slowly rolled her along the red room.

Allison knew she had to escape. It was her only chance. She would get out of this room, find Hudson, and they would both get the hell out of this bunker. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to pull this feat off. She had never been in the bunker before, and there was no telling how big it was or how many of John's men were down here.

One restraint started to slowly give. Allison fought it, threatening to tear the skin from her hand to escape its hold. Biting back the pain, she gave one last forceful tug and it snapped. The snap knocked her arm back, causing her to lose balance. The chair toppled over, and she hit the metal floor hard.

She wouldn't be rolling her way to escape now. The chair pinned her, but with her free hand, Allison felt around for her other bound hand. If she could free her other hand, she could work on getting the chair off of her and untying her legs.

Allison cried out in relief as she felt the other restraint snap. Her almost victory was short-lived however, because the grinding of metal doors echoed again, making her heart leap to her throat. Boots stepped along the metallic floor, echoing softly. She heard an amused chuckle. Closing her eyes, Allison gave up.

"My, my, aren't you a little spitfire," John chuckled.

She felt him grab her chair, and she was lifted from the floor back onto solid ground, becoming upright. She glared at John as he spun the chair around to face him, still looking amused.

"Always looking to escape," John said, shaking his head. "I assure you, that will shortly change."

"Highly doubt it," she snapped.

John's blue eyes twinkled, and he eased a smirk, looking her over. "Well, that depends on the stakes, yes? Are you willing to give Hudson's life for a chance to run away?"

She glared at him. "You wouldn't."

John stood up tall, moving to the side and motioning to the door. "There's the door. Be my guest, Allison. I assure you that you will not get far, and Hudson will pay dearly for it in the end."

Allison looked away, feeling defeated for the moment. She couldn't risk Hudson's life. She would have to think of another way to get them out of here.

"What do you want with me?" she whispered, hating herself and where she was at this moment.

"You know what I want," John said, moving away from her.

She looked up when he had gone, but he was soon coming back, pulling over a metal chair to sit in front of her. He had pulled the chair up close. Their knees were only a couple inches away from each other.

"I want you to confess," John continued. "To atone. I want you to be saved. I've told you this before. I am here to guide you through the process. And we are not going anywhere until you do."

He grabbed her hand, the one he had stabbed at his ranch, though now it had started to slowly heal. The wound on his hand was slowly healing as well.

"I made a pact with you, remember? So…no matter what happens…I will get you to confess…to atone. Until then…you're all mine."

A/N: Sorry for this chapter taking a bit longer, life got carried away. As such, it's also a shorter chapter. But don't worry, next one should be longer (and hopefully not take as long). As you can see, this chapter is taking a big turn away from the game. It will still follow the game, but in my own way :3 Thanks to all who have fave/followed this story and I appreciate all the reviews! Have a good week! :D

Read the full story here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12917971/1/Reap-What-You-Sow

[momscookingthebooks]

About 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Ten:

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors Tessa Bailey, Lexi Blake, Larissa Ione, Laurelin Paige, and introducing Jenna Jacob and Sierra Simone.

Six Dark Tales. Six Sensual Stories. Six Page Turners. ROUGH RHYTHM: A Made In Jersey Novella by Tessa Bailey  Band manager James Brandon never expected to find the satisfaction he’d been chasing, let alone stumble upon it in some sleezy Hollywood meat market. Yet the girl’s quiet pride spoke to him from across the bar. But after losing the grip on his dark desires that one fateful night, James has spent the last four years atoning for letting her down. Rock band drummer Lita Regina has had enough of James’s guilt. She wants the explosive man she met that night in Hollywood. And she’ll stop at nothing to revive him.  DEVOTED: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella by Lexi Blake  Amy Slaten has devoted her life to Slaten Industries. After ousting her corrupt father and taking over the CEO role, she thought she could relax and enjoy taking her company to the next level. But an old business rivalry rears its ugly head. When Flynn Adler realizes the woman he’s falling for is none other than the CEO of the firm he needs to take down, he has to make a choice. Does he take care of the woman he’s falling in love with or the business he’s worked a lifetime to build?  Z: A Demonica Novella by Larissa Ione  Zhubaal has spent decades searching for the angel he loved and lost nearly a century ago. Not even her death can keep him from trying to find her. But as time passes, he’s losing hope… As an emim, Vex has always felt like a second-class citizen. But if she manages to secure a deal with the Grim Reaper she will have earned her place in the world. The only obstacle in the way of her plan is a sexy hardass called Z. Soon it becomes clear that they have a powerful connection rooted in the past…  FALLING UNDER YOU: A Fixed Trilogy Novella by Laurelin Paige  Norma Anders has always prided herself on her intelligence and determination. She climbed out of poverty, put herself through school and is now a chief financial advisor at Pierce Industries. She’s certainly a woman who won’t be topped. Not in business anyway. But she’s pretty sure she’d like to be topped in the bedroom. Unfortunately most men see independence and ambition in a woman and they run. Then the most unlikely candidate steps up. Boyd, her much-too-young and oh-so-hot assistant surprises her one night with bold suggestions and an authoritative demeanor he’s never shown her in the office.  CRAVING HIS COMMAND: A Doms of Genesis Novella by Jenna Jacob  Mercy O’Connor—known as Symoné at Club Genesis—craves the chance to experience true surrender. The only problem is, she’s set her sights on sexy, commanding Sir Justice, who studies her with his dissecting, arousing stare…but never offers to show her his ropes. If Kellan Graham let himself believe in love at first sight, Symoné would own his heart. After having his life ripped apart, he’s spent years inventing ways to resist simple lust, but each time this beautiful submissive turns her pleading eyes to him, she ignites a complicated conflagration of desire Kellan can’t fight.  AMERICAN QUEEN by Sierra Simone  It starts with a stolen kiss under an English sky, and it ends with a walk down the aisle. It starts with the President sending his best friend to woo me on his behalf, and it ends with my heart split in two. It starts with buried secrets and dangerous desires…and ends with the three of us bound together with a hateful love sharper than any barbed wire. Every Dark Nights tale is breathtakingly sexy and magically romantic. 

BUY LINKS:

Amazon:  http://amzn.to/2sS8xbH

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/1001-Dark-Nights-Bundle-Ten-ebook/dp/B073WDH3LT/?tag=1001darnig-20

Amazon CAN: https://www.amazon.ca/1001-Dark-Nights-Bundle-Ten-ebook/dp/B073WDH3LT/?tag=1001darnig-20

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/d/1001-Dark-Nights-Bundle-Ten-ebook/B073WDH3LT/?tag=1001darnig-20

About the 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Ten Authors:

Tessa Bailey – Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.

Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.

She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of eight years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.

Author Links:

Website: https://www.tessabailey.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TessaBaileyAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/mstessabailey

Lexi Blake – New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband and three kids. She began writing at a young age concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.lexiblake.net/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lexi.blake.39

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorlexiblake

Larissa Ione – Larissa Ione is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. An Air Force veteran, she traded in a career as a meteorologist to pursue her passion of writing. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her U.S. Coast Guard husband, her teenage son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhound, a King Shepherd named Hexe.

Author Links:

Website: http://larissaione.com/blog/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/OfficialLarissaIone

Twitter: https://twitter.com/larissaione

Laurelin Paige –Laurelin Paige is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed Trilogy. She’s a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio.

Author Links:

Website: https://laurelinpaige.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaurelinPaige

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LaurelinPaige

Jenna Jacob – USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Jenna Jacob lives out her happily-ever-after in Kansas with her Alpha husband, adult children, and animal babies. When she’s not pounding the keyboard she’s likely riding a Harley, camping and fishing, reading, or cooking. Dubbed the “Goddess of Gravy” by Lexi Blake, Jenna enjoys tantalizing the taste buds of family and friends with her famous fried chicken dinner.

But don’t let her conventional innocence fool you. Jenna has been involved in the BDSM lifestyle for over twenty years. With experience and knowledge, she delves deep into the emotional psyche of strong Dominants and sassy submissives with her Doms of Genesis series and The Doms of Her Life series (co-authored with Shayla Black and Isabella LaPearl).

Her works have been called: savagely beautiful, captivating, and emotionally riveting.

A hopeless romantic, Jenna paints a softer picture with her contemporary romance: Sky Of Dreams. A lover of life and laughter, she sets her zany sense of humor free in the romantic comedies: Sin On A Stick and Wet Dream.

No matter the genre, you’ll want a box of tissues handy, Jenna tugs hard on the heartstrings. 

Author Links:

Website: https://jennajacob.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjennajacob

Twitter: https://twitter.com/jennajacob3

Sierra Simone – Sierra Simone is the USA Today bestselling author of American Queen and Priest. She's a former librarian who spent too much time reading romance novels at the information desk. She's also a 4th degree black belt in kenpo karate, a narcoleptic, a former living history interpreter and is licensed to perform marriages in exchange for beer.  She lives with her husband, two kids and a big, brown dog in Kansas City. You can also email her at thesierrasimone@gmail.com.

Author Links:

Website: http://www.authorsierrasimone.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheSierraSimone/

Tumblr: http://thesierrasimone.tumblr.com/