Chapter 7

The air is thick with the stench of blood and damp earth. Thick covers of trees let strange silver streams trace patterns upon the ground beneath as the moon hangs low in the sky. Damien and Veronica push on, gasping harshly, clothes sweaty and littered with grime from the last fight. VERONICA (gasp, half-whisper): How much longer? Damien glances over his shoulder, the flames of his change lingering in his gold eyes. His grip on her wrist is firm and dominant. DAMIEN (gravelly, urgent): Close. But they're coming. A distant wolf howl punctuates his words and makes the hairs rise along Veronica's neck. She swallows hard, huddling in what's left of her ripped jacket around her shoulders, shuffling with a stumble. The adrenaline is evaporating, the bruises of their flight aching beneath her skin. They break through the line of trees into a little clearing, the remains of a church standing under the moon, an abandoned relic. Rotting stone walls, broken stained glass, the sanctum of the damned. Damien closes the massive wooden door behind them, the sound echoing in the desolate room. Moonlight brings a cloud of dust as Veronica stumbles forward, placing a hand to her side. VERONICA (smirking, panting): So what? We hope they don't rip us in two. Damien doesn’t answer. He’s pacing, fingers twitching. The beast in him is still fighting to be set free, still tearing at him. Veronica looks at him, her own heart racing not out of fear but out of something murkier, something dangerous. She steps in, never taking her gaze from his. VERONICA (soft, teasing) You’re still holding back. Damien growls low in his throat, his jaw clenched. His eyes flicker with the battle within him—man against beast, control against surrender. DAMIEN (wiry, strained): You don't know what you're asking for. Veronica smiles and pushes into his face. She places a hand on his chest, and under her fingertips, she can feel the thudding of his heart, fast and uneven. VERONICA (whispers): Show me. And then he does. His lips crash into hers with bruising force, his hands muffling her waist, pulling her into him with full-bodied intimacy. His kiss leaves me gasping, possessive hunger. He tastes of blood and desperation, of something animal and wild. He picks up Veronica and slams her back against the icy stone wall, and she gasps. His hands rip through her clothes, fabric torn, the space between them a travesty. She meets him, going into him, fingers knotted in his hair, nails scraping down his spine. But the threat is not gone. A shadow darts by the shattered window. Someone waits in the darkness, watching. Still. Waiting. Damien goes stiff. His mouth draws back from Veronica's, panting. He leans his head slightly to one side and listens. VERONICA (breathless): What is it? Damien doesn't respond. He gently sets her down, her body going tense, golden eyes scanning the blackness. A whisper of movement. Then The window shatters inward. Glass breaks as something huge comes crashing through, an animal of darkness and teeth. Damien hasn't even time to shove Veronica behind him before claws slash across his chest, ripping open half-healed wounds. Damien furors, and Veronica howls, and it's all in a flash: He is savage, he is bloody, he is a beast. Bones snap, flesh rips, fur bursts out. And the monster inside him breaks free." The two beasts clash, the blast shaking the walls of the church. Veronica backs away frantically, her heart pounding. Blood splatters the stone ground, the beasts' growl echoing across the barren landscape. Damien is pitiless, driven by rage, by lust, by the primal urge to protect. But the other one is just as strong. Damien is slammed against the altar, sending debris flying. The intruder strikes, and Damien is faster. He bites at the beast's throat, blood spurting in hot, thick jets. A gurgling snarl of life. Then stillness. Damien stumbles backward, panting heavily. The beast falls, thrashing once before stilling. Damien shifts back, naked and convulsing, blood trickling from his mouth, and Veronica stands there. His golden eyes lock onto hers, and yet something has changed. Something is wrong. VERONICA (disbelieving, whispering): Damien … His body convulses wildly. He falls to his knees and grasps his own head. DAMIEN (straining, in pain) I can't— His panting is heavy, his body thrashing. Something is shifting in him. Something outside of his control. And then his eyes flash up again, darker than ever before. Black. The transformation is not finished. Veronica's blood goes cold. The room is heavy with silence except for the harsh rasp of Damien's breath. His body trembles, smeared with blood, golden eyes consumed by a dark vacuum. His transformation must be finished, but something is wrong; something in him continues to change. Vonnie retreats; her heart racing. VERONICA (whispers, frightened): Damien? His eyes jerk upwards; whatever recognition flashes in the darkness for a second. Then his body spasm-must convulse violently, fingers gripping the stone floor as a snarl wrenched from his throat. DAMIEN (speaking strained, monologue twisted): Run. Veronica shudders, torn between fear and despair. She does not want to leave him like this—not when he is fighting to live. Then Damien launches. She hardly moves in time. He collides with the wall in front of her, his claws deep in the stone. As he spins back, a terrible growl rumbles from his chest, and the look on his face is one that cannot be contained, one that is not human. The wind stirs through the naked trees. Shadows flash between the gravestones, the smell of rot thick in the air. Something waits, watching in the dark. A shadowed person walks in, obscured by darkness. Their face isn't seen, but their voice cuts the night like a blade. UNKNOWN FIGURE (darkly, darkly pleased): He's finally cracking. A figure steps in, red-eyed. SECOND FIGURE (deep, content) Just like we were gonna. They walk towards the church, silenced like death. Veronica gropes over splintered pews, gasping as Damien pursues, his breath heavy, ragged. His muscles bunch, his motion creepily slow, calculating. His bloodlust is not the only thing he longs to feast on. It’s for destruction. VERONICA (begging, pleading) You’re better than this. Fight it. His body trembles as he weighs the spell of madness he feels versus the chord tying him to her. But the darkness within is prevailing. He lunges again. Veronica dodges, rolling on the stone floor. Her hands grasp blindly for anything; her fingertips curl around a jagged piece of glass. Damien growls, coming forward. And halts. A cold, otherworldly whisper shoots through the air. UNKNOWN FIGURE (whispering, mockingly): Enough. The room grows dark. It's 10 seconds to nothing; a heavy presence fills the room, heavy, suffocating. And then the hooded figure walks through the shattered doorway, eyes burning with light, focusing on Damien. UNKNOWN FIGURE (soothingly, commanding): Kneel. Damien stiffens, his body jerking, something unseen pulling at him. He roars defiantly, but his legs collapse under him. Scrabbling his claws on the stone, he struggles against the command, but his body betrays him. Veronica stands in horror. VERONICA (shouting): Stop! The figure doesn't glance at her once. They keep moving towards Damien, their lips curling in amusement. UNKNOWN FIGURE (softly, to Damien): You were never supposed to be anything but a servant. Damien's face twists in agony, his hands wrapped around his head as if attempting to rip something out of his mind. He gasps with fierce effort, as if it hurts. Veronica's ears are filled by the pounding pulse, and she grips the piece of glass so hard she panics for an instant at the possibility that she could shatter it. She has only one opportunity. She acts. She screams, grabbing for the figure, glass to their neck. But when she leans forward to catch them, something smashes into her hard. The impact sends the air out of her body, and she crumples against the frigid stone ground. Another figure looms above her, its red eyes blazing. SECOND FIGURE (laughing): Nice attempt. Veronica gapes, kicking back, legs seeking traction, but a boot slams onto her chest, holding her there. Damien bellows like a gutted animal, but he can’t move. His flesh quakes in revolt, wrestling the invisible shackles pinning him. The cloaked figure inclines their head, observing as he squirms. UNKNOWN FIGURE (amused, darkly): You’ll find out soon enough. Their hand rises. A spear of darkness flies out of their hand and impales Damien in the middle of his chest. Only his scream, raw and tortured, reverberates through the church. Veronica struggles and thrashes; whatever strength keeps her pinned seethes in her eyes. VERONICA (shouting): Damien! Then The world is rent asunder, devoured by darkness.