Rabid For Her Revenge

Sarakiel’s home put Myrin’s to shame.

Although I had never really seen much of Myrin’s home I knew that my deduction was not wrong.

The large mansion laid on both halves of his territory, half of the mansion on the northern side and the other half on the western side. The building was created of white smooth walls, a few grey stone walls thrown in around the mansion. The windows were rimmed with a charcoal black paint, and many archways decorated the mansion. Purple plants that hung from the balconies, and black and white checkered floors, led around to the massive patio in the back that overlooked a pristine lawn that was set in tiers.

It was truly a sight to behold and I had yet to even see the inside.

I clutched the heavy jacket tighter over my shoulders as the chill mountain air blew a strong gust over my frail body, threatening to knock me over. I stumbled into the Two standing on my left.

His hand shot out to steady me, but the touch of his fingers burned my skin and I jumped away with a hiss, baring my fangs at him like an angry cat.

The Two lifted his hands in a sign of surrender and took a pace back to prove he meant no ill will.

With one last glare at him I buried my nose in the jacket—his jacket oddly enough—and padded after the others who were now entering the mansion, the doors opened by who I assumed was the butler.

The older male looked at me with a mixture of shock and disgust as I walked past him in nothing but a coat. I smirked to myself, wondering what his reaction would have been had I had my way and been in nothing but my bare skin.

Sarakiel had strongly insisted that I at least make it to my room before I took off the jacket.

My bare feet slapped against the white and gold flecked marble that covered the foyer floor of the mansion. I looked around at the towering white walls and arches with wonder.

Immediately upon entrance a staircase arched up to my left and its twin was on my right where they met in the middle and then once again diverge in opposite directions. The white marble was carved with a floral design near the top where the glossy black railing stood proudly above the staircase.

A famous painting from the last Paramount war depicted a gory scene where two males stood above the rest, their eyes glowing in the pure state as they tore into each other with their claws out and their teeth bared. It was a rather gruesome sight to have present first thing upon entrance, but I couldn’t help but smile.

The gold frame around it really made it pop, forcing you to notice it, if the massive size of it didn’t already command your attention.

I let my eyes linger on it for a moment more before following after my small entourage that had walked through the archway beneath the staircase. The Twos broke off from Sarakiel and I immediately trailed after the Twos, assuming they would be the ones to lead me to the room I would be staying in but to my surprise Sarakiel called me over to him.

He looked at me with an amused expression. “Equals remember?”

Equals indeed.

Never before had I ever heard of a One lowering himself to show a female to her quarters, well one that wasn’t his own for the obvious reason anyway.

I trailed after him through the hallway we had broken off at.

He eventually stopped at a door, holding it open for me to enter.

What I noticed first was that the walls were not the same white as the bulk of the mansion. The ceiling was not flat like I expected, instead it was steeped. Rustic grayish-brown wooden panels covered the wall on my left and up the slanted ceiling and down to the floor.

The wall to my left was a light gray, as was the wall directly in front of me. A large square window was framed in a darker gray with heavy drapes of the same color hanging in ripples to the sides off the window.

Also, to my left was a slate grey fireplace that stretched to the slanted ceiling. The slate rectangles jutted out in different places and they were not sanded to a flat surface, so it imitated a real cliff face. As my eyes scanned upwards, my eyes landed on the light fixture that was a tangled mess of branches that curved upwards to shield the light in the center.

I took a step deeper into the room, my feet brushing against the white rug that was placed half under the bed and stretched from one end of the room to the other, leaving a few feet of space between it and the fireplace where the brownish grey hardwood from the ceiling was also the wooden flooring.

Stepping off the white rug because I didn’t want to tarnish it, I exhaled a breath as I beheld the bed. Although it was very different from the one I had when I was with Myrin, beds made me cringe internally.

I looked away from it quickly, eyeing the grey chair that really looked like a mini couch in the corner that I’d probably be sleeping on instead. A lamp stood next to the chair. Placed on the wall behind the lamp and chair was a bookshelf that was completely empty.

I pulled my eyes away from the room and leaned forward to peer through the archway on my left just before the fireplace. A bathroom lay beyond, a very large and open bathroom.

“I’ll show you how to work it,” Sarakiel murmured walking into it.

I hesitated before following in after him.

I was disappointed to see the only door separating it from my room was a glass french door. It wasn’t a true archway, an illusion really where a half circle of white lacquer was painted above the top of the frame.

The bathroom was much darker than the bedroom. The ceiling in the bathroom was flat and the same heavy dark gray granite as the sink and left and right walls. The floor was a mixture of dark gray and black rustic hardwood. The opposing wall was one giant window that overlooked the valley and mountains that started the northern territories.

The bathtub was a lot like the sink, simply carved deep into the floor instead of the granite counter and dropped in so it was level with the hard floor. What made me unconsciously take a step back was not the mirror above the sink but the glass panels that made up the shower in the back right corner.

Thankfully Sarakiel didn’t notice my actions and simply approached the shower and showed me the panel of buttons and explained what all of them did. I was only half listening the whole time, shadows of Myrin stared back at me through the glass doors.

I stared back at him, into his green eyes.

I won. I mouthed at him but he only smirked

We’ll see who really won. He mouthed back.

I took a step towards him, forgetting he wasn’t actually real but Sarakiel turned back to look at me causing the apparition of Myrin to vanish.

“You’re free to do as you want, and I’ll send someone up with dinner later.”

I only nodded in confirmation that I had heard him and understood.

“Alright then,” he said, “have a good night, I will be back in the morning. We can have breakfast together and talk some more.”

Again, I only nodded, staring into the glass door waiting for Myrin to appear again.

Sarakiel waited a moment in case I had anything to say or ask but when I didn’t move or speak, he nodded and left, the door of my room clicking shut softly as he took his leave.

I inhaled deeply, steeling my nerves and gritting my teeth as I took a step towards the shower, shrugging off the heavy jacket that was now ruined with my silver blood. I stepped into the shower and closed the door taking in another deep breath before pressing at the button that turned the water on.

Water gushed out on top of me, covering me in its icy spray. It reminded me of the mercury injection that had frozen my blood, causing me to shiver violently for hours before its effects finally wore off. I stabbed at the button until the water was a little shy of lukewarm and I changed the shower setting to a lighter spray.

Closing my eyes, I stepped fully under the water and just let it run over my body. I relished every sensation as the water seeped into my cuts and stung me, reminding me that I was still alive and that I could feel something, even though the pain was just a tickle to me.

I knew what true pain was.

It was the way my blood burned through my veins and then turned to ice with every breath I took. My blood was now a poison my body could support but the pain was always present. Although some days were worse than others like the days when I couldn’t push it to the back of my mind and forget about it.

I opened my eyes and stepped from the water, my hand reaching for the brand-new bottles of soap. I inhaled the scent and wrinkled my nose at the vanilla scent.

Vanilla was too soft for someone like me.

It was too meek, too pure. It reminded me of our society’s females, and I hated it. I would have to remember to ask Sarakiel for different soap.

Something like mint or the ocean.

For now, though, I would have to just endure it.

Squirting the soap into my hand I scrubbed at my scalp, raking my fingers through my white hair and then washed out the soap. I repeated this process several times just to be sure I had all of the blood and grime out. Then I lathered my hair with conditioner that would hopefully take out some of the knots. I knew that some of the knots would just have to be cut out but hopefully I could salvage most of my hair. I wanted to grow it out as soon as possible, the short strands reminded me too much of my time with Myrin and I wanted that gone.

My body was a challenge. I first just covered my body in soap and rinsed off before attacking my skin with the loofah. I scrubbed down every inch of my body, getting the bottom of my feet, between my toes, my neck, my thighs, around my ears and in my bellybutton. I scrubbed at every cut, not caring as some were reopened by my savage scrubbing. After four repetitions I rinsed off again, also rinsing the conditioner and then turned off the shower, stepping out onto the dark wooden panels. I grabbed a fluffy gray towel and dried myself off, wrapping it around my middle as I padded back into my bedroom where I snatched the stack of clothes waiting for me before scampering back into the bathroom away from the bed.

I pulled the thick wool sweater over my head and slipped the cotton black underwear up my legs. I did not put on the fleece leggings and instead pushed them to the side of the black granite counter. I grabbed the brush from the wicker bowl and finally met my own eyes in the mirror.

I did not flinch away from my reflection, from the hollow silver eyes staring back at me or the white brows and white lashes courtesy of the mercury flowing through my veins. I only grimaced at my jutting cheekbones, pale complexion, and chapped lips.

My eyes dropped to my neck, to my bare collarbones that were littered with rings of teeth. One set in particular stood out from the others, they almost seemed more dominating as if claiming its place above all the others, staking its superiority on my skin.

I blinked, looking away from my newest scar. I glared at my hands clenched on the granite surface, the brush clutched tightly in one.

Then reaching up I grabbed at my jagged strands that hovered just above my collarbone. I lifted the brush and dragged it through my hair. I preceded to drag the bristles through my hair, gratified to see almost all of the snarls came out. Those that were too stubborn met the sharp blades of the scissors and fell to the black granite, the white strands standing out stark against the dark surface.

I left the bathroom then, making my way back into the bedroom. I approached the bed, taking in the metallic silver frame that boxed around the four-poster bed. I stared at the white sheets and the numerous pillows before grabbing the grey blanket at the end and wrapping it around my shoulders. I turned my back to the bed and made my way over to the chair in the corner, curling up on its cushion and contented myself with staring out the window where I watched the sun set.

And when I closed my eyes, I did not dread the moment when I would open them.