Blood, Knives, and Prince Of Hell, Keara Masterson [great novels to read .TXT] 📗

The women gargled, her throat ripped jaggedly. A line stretched from under her ear across her neck. Blood slowly dripped at first, then sped up. Tears ran down her face, her eyes screaming the horror her mouth couldn't. Her weakened fingers grazed his cloak. Her body slacked as her eyes started to dull, she looked up at the man who slit her throat. His eyes seemed to pierce the dark ally, the harsh silver irises calling for her soul. With her last breath, a white whip with black spots appeared from the crude cut. He pulled out two jars and opened the smaller one. The wisp, under his command, slithered into the jar. He closed it, put it aside then grabbed the other jar and his knife. He used the knife to tear her dress, then pressed the tip to her abdomen. The ritual required the uterus of a women, and unfortunately, a fresh one. He loathed murdering women and often felt horrible guilt. He cut the organ out and put into the other jar, closed it, then put them both into a small black bag. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief. A quick whistle using a dove bone called his personal “servants”. They melted out of the shadows and hurried over to the body. “Bring it back to the mansion. I will finish the work there.” He signed. The shadow servants bowed as best as they could with a body in their arms, the left. He sighed. This work was tiring.

. . .

A bright halfmoon shown on the mansion where a gruesome ritual was prepared. In a room with an open skylight for the moon light to shine on the table, lied a stone doll. It was the size of an average male, but was slender like a noble woman. Blood dripped into symbols covered the doll and spilled over the side. The uterus was placed on the doll’s abdomend. A ‘welcome’ of the summoned to take residence within the doll. The murder walked into the room and to the doll. He raised a knife. He cut his underarm and dripped it onto the doll, placing it under his command once possessed. Chanting, the blood called and enticed a demon from thee 2nd realm. A small slit formed in front of the doll. A clawed but unsubstantial arm reached forward. A shoulder. When the face appeared, the man couldn't help but shiver. The faces of demons and the victims always were in his dreams, screaming and taunting. Its entire body slipped through and entered the doll through the uterus. The uterus, only needed for the summoning, withered and turned into dust. The two drilled holes in the doll's head formed dripping black eyes with spirling red pupils. Its lean jaw shifted, moving the sharp and jagged mouth. “THIS BODY IS QUITE WEAK AND HEAVY MORTAL, PERHAPS I SHOULD TAKE YOUR’S?” A Booming voice so unlike the body vibrated through the room. Several jars full of organs shattered and oozed onto the ground from shelves. The man frowned grimly. Did he really want to give her a “Prince Servant”, who could shatter glass with just his voice?

He waved his shadow servant over. Its movements trembled from the presence of the Prince. When it reached him, he had murmured for it to clean up the mess caused by the prince. When the shadow servant started picking up the organs and placing them into new jars, the man faced the Prince Servant. “Hello Prince, welcome to our Realm. do you know what the Contract you were placed under as possessing the doll restricts?”

The Prince seemed to snarl slightly. “DON'T TAKE ME SO LIGHTLY MORTAL. I'VE BEEN ALIVE FOR MANY EONS, OF COURSE I DO. REST AS EASILY AS YOU DARE, THE MOMENT YOU CEASE TO BE, YOUR BODY IS MINE. DESPITE IT BEING MORE FRAGILE THAN THIS ONE, IT IS MUCH QUICKER AND LIGHTER.” It paused. Then mused. “PERHAPS THAT WON'T BE LONG..”

That's when the man grinned, lips stretched tightly over sharp teeth. “Oh really? That's only if I don't transfer your Contract to another ‘master’.”

The Prince was arrogant no longer. “YOU WOULDN'T. THAT WOULD BREAK THE 5TH RULE OF THE CONTRACT AND DAMN YOU SOUL TO BE HADES’S SERVANT FOR ALL ETERNITY.”

The man grinned wider and sauntered over. He hit the Prince on the back, usually used as a friendly gesture, but they were not friends. “I'm already going to hell my friend.” He wrote with the blood on the table. The prince decided this man was very dangerous and unpredictable. The man feigned a yawn, patted the Prince, winked, then left the room. He calmly walked to his room and closed the door.

The moment the door was closed, he collapsed. Necromancy could be deadly, as it used your blood and he had little energy to waste. The room spun as he dragged himself to the cot. What am I going to do? He pondered tiredly. His mother, Duchess to the SilverOak family, “’requested’ this Prince Servant. This was more like blackmail. He was waken up in the middle of the night, brought to his mother's ‘lair’ and blackmailed into making one. It was do or die. Or dø or die, considering how his mother was a cold old hag and had probably sent assassins after him and what the demon said earlier. He had to stay vigilant… his eyes were drifting closer and closer by each passing second. Something flickered outside his window. Eyes appeared. Just before his eyes closed, he mouthed an unignorable order. Glass shattered, but no footsteps sounded. ”WELL YOU'RE QUITE THE ACTOR.“ The voice that shook the room was the last thing he heard.

 The Prince was slightly impressed. The young man with bright silver eyes was great at pretending he wasn't tired earlier, and even now. He only looked like his eyes were closed. The young man's curly black hair didn't cover his face despite him collapsing. Not one drop of blood from the ritual was on his clothes. A hood he was wearing was covering his face earlier, but the Prince knew how young he was the second his voice reached him into the 2nd realm. While his acting was superior to most humans, he was weaker than most. No other mortal that ever Summoned the Prince collapsed only moments after.

The prince glanced at the assassin that just bashed her way in through the window. At least get a better window… The assassin startled at the sudden appearance of the Prince, the tried to escape through the window. The Prince breathed in the sour smell of fear and laughed. “KE, KE, KE, YOU CAN'T ESCAPE ME HUMAN.” The stone doll reached across the room swiftly and snatched the intruders ankle. The Prince dragged her backwards as the assassin bowls released in fear and she clawed at the floor. Buttons and a small sigia were scraped off of the assassins uniform and scattered over the floor. With the stench of piss and fear encircling the room, the Prince slowly killed the human. Bones were broken no matter how small or strong, internal organs yanked out and thrown onto the walls, and finally, when dead, the corpse’s face was brutally marked. Ears, nose, eyelids, and lips were cut off, with the eyeballs removed later. Swallowed, into the stone dolls jagged mouth and absorbed by the demon. The assassin died within an hour, the torture slowly executed.

The young man woke to see the Prince sitting across the room with crossed arms. It was staring right at him. He immediately tried to get up but fell to one knee. “DON'T EMBARRASS YOURSELF FOR MY SAKE MORTAL, YOU'RE STILL VERY WEAK.” He eyed the prince. Was the first part of his statement something close to…sass? Waving it off, he slowly sat back down. Blink. Sniff. Blood was spattered everywhere and small pools of slightly yellow liquid was dripped and whipped across the floor. “I see you took care of the assassin for me… and enjoyed it.” The Prince grinned. He just sighed. “Help me up won't you? I guess we should go visit mother and give her my sweetest regards, seeing how I’m still alive despite her assassin.” He picked up the button that was ripped off of the assassins uniform and looked at it, seeing his families sigia. He paused. “And give her the Contract.”

The Prince walked through the carnage and yanked him up by his arm. “IF WE ARE ON SUCH FRIENDLY TERMS, WHY NOT TELL ME YOUR NAME?” It questioned slyly.

“We both know that’s almost certain death for me if I hand that to you, so why don’t you shut up and leave me to my thoughts for a while.”

The prince snickered. “SASSY.”

He raised an eyebrow. I’m sassy? The young man used the Prince to get out of the room, leaning heavily. Grabbing his cane and replacing his hood for a top hat, they walked out onto the streets of London.

Halfway to the SilverOak mansion, he realized the room from before left a foul stench on him. He glared at the Prince and saw no blood and gore on the doll or a smell from it. The Prince gave the most innocent expression one could with fiery red and black eyes and monstrous teeth. Figures. Using the dove bone, he called a shadow servant to get him another coat. Hopefully that would help. Coming before the SilverOak mansion, he stopped. The mansion rose high, its black picket fence reaching up to his head, and deathbells with other deadly plants decorating the side of the house. Swinging the fence door open, they walked to the mansions door. A small slot opened. He rose the cane up to the slot and showed his house sigia. The slot closed and the door opened. A servant bowed. “Young Lord Jack.” The Princes eyebrow arched. ”That's not my actual name, these servants know when to use my real name and when to use a nickname.“

The Prince chuckled. ”OF COURSE, THAT WOULD BE TOO EASY. AS EXPECTED OF THE SILVEROAK FAMILY.“ They had been walking down the hall to his mother's office, but now ‘Jack’ froze.

”Have you served this family before?“

”NO, YOUR MOTHER HAS CALLED FOR ME BEFORE BUT LACKED THE PROPER SUMMONING STRENGTH THAT WAS NEEDED.“ It paused.