A REBELLION

Luciano's footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hallways, the only sound breaking the heavy silence of this castle. The air was thick with the scent of burning wax, the earthy aroma mingling with the faint hint of aged wood. He took in everything which was hung on the walls. The warmth of the candles painted flickering shadows around an orange hue and when his eyes caught sight of the familiar portrait of his father in his initial form, he slowed his pace to a stop to observe the oil painting.

The canvas portrayed him in all his sinister glory—horns protruding from his head, piercing red eyes, and a menacing grin that sent an involuntary chill down his spine.

As he stared into those soulless eyes, his mind travelled back to their intense conversation and he found that he was still reeling from it. The weight of his suspicious gaze hung heavy on his shoulders. Had he come across as callous enough when he asked him what it was that he was doing in the realm of the living?

What in the actual fuck was he doing? Why the hell was he willing to risk his very existence for a mere mortal?

Turning around, he strolled back to his sleeping quarters where his loyal hound was awaiting his return. The orb around his neck swung from side to side, entrapping a few lost souls within its glowing depths. His hound would surely appreciate this offering for leaving her caged and alone for so long.

As he was strolling along the hallway in the direction of his chambers, he noticed how the shadows dancing on the walls were flickering with much more vigour than before, and a deep sense of unease settled within me. The hallway somehow felt colder, more ominous than usual. he wrapped his cloak tighter around his body as if he could somehow shield himself from the unsettling feeling. Then he slowed down to a halt, glancing around cautiously.

It felt as though he was being watched.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of it.

Until it finally hit him—the only demon who was capable of cloaking himself so effortlessly, blending into the shadows as if he were one with the darkness itself.

"Come out, Grim," he announced with a look of exasperation. "Your toying with me is not going to work. I am not that foolish child anymore."

For a moment, nothing happened and he wondered if he was simply losing his mind until a deep, resonant chuckle echoed from an unknown dimensional space. The sound of his form materialising rang like a furious whisper behind him.

"I thought I was being inconspicuous," he rasped, his voice like the scraping of bone against stone. "I'm impressed you were able to detect my presence. Normally, you would remain blissfully unaware."

With a grin of amusement, he turned around to face him.

His malevolent presence was still coalescing before his very eyes. Skeletal features, sunken eyes, and a grin that promised only suffering—Grim, the Reaper himself.

"You will have to do a much better job than that, Grim."

"I heard some yelling going on in the office back there," he replied and he could imagine his eyes shining with a heap of hilarity. "Daddy on your case?"

His face dropped and he narrowed his eyes at him warningly. "Has no one taught you that eavesdropping is extremely rude?"

"You think I care about coming across as rude? Me, Death?"

He steeled his nerves, refusing to be cowed by the ancient evil standing in front of him. "Why are you stalking me, Grim?"

The Reaper's grin widened, revealing jagged, yellowed teeth. "Why, I have come to collect a soul, of course," he said with his skeletal fingers reaching out towards him.

"I hate to break it to you, but you have come to the wrong place. My soul has been long left undead."

Grim tilted his head to the side and he could imagine his eyes studying him with intrigue. His eye sockets seemed to narrow as if trying to get him to cower in fear.

Luciano looked him up and down and when his black cloak billowed in an unseen wind, he sensed a fury like no other brewing within him. Had he done something to infuriate him recently?

Grim remained silent for a moment, then inclined his head. "I was going through my logs earlier today, to make sure that everything was in order as I do at the end of my day, but you will not guess what happened."

"What?" he mused curiously.

Grim stepped closer.

He could feel the chill of his presence washing over him.

With an emphasis on each word, he said, "I was missing a soul."

His brows furrowed in confusion and with a hollow laugh, he replied, "Take that up with your reapers. Why should I have to deal with their incompetence as well? I already have so much on my plate."

"I am capable of keeping my reapers in check, Luciano," he gritted out through a clenched jaw. "But it is difficult to do so when a certain somebody keeps meddling in the lives of mortals."

He blinked at him in confusion and cautiously, he asked, "Who is meddling?"

"The Angel of Mercy," he replied sarcastically, letting out a low, rumbling sigh. "Who do you fucking think I'm talking about?"

As he listened to him, he struggled to understand his words until suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks—the realisation that he was referring to the mortal whose life he had saved before returning to the Underworld.

When Grim recognised that he had caught on to what he was talking about, he whispered hauntingly, "You cannot keep saving him, child."

He felt a familiar defiance rise within him, his lips curving into a smug smirk as he met his gaze. "Then stop making it so fucking easy to," he responded, the words rolling off his tongue with a sense of reckless abandon.

Spinning around on his heels, he made his way towards the sanctuary of his chambers, feeling his piercing gaze burning into the back of his head. It was dangerous, challenging Death like that, but he just could not resist the allure of the forbidden, the thrill of pushing the ancient demon's buttons.

Reaching the solitude of his room, he closed the door behind him.

He immediately heard a menacingly low, rumbling growl in the darkness of his quarters.

"Relax," he murmured into the room, shrugging his cloak off to stretch his wings. "It's only me."

After draping the cloak over the back of the chair positioned by the door, he reached for the antique lighter resting on the mahogany table. He deftly used his nail to scratch the flint, coaxing it to produce a flame. Leaning in carefully, he ignited the wick of the candle, casting a warm glow across the room.

As he turned to face his hound, he could sense her impatience as she waited in her designated area. The discontent was palpable in her darkened gaze, indicating her displeasure with me.

"Oh, do not give me that look. I was busy."

She let out an exasperated huff, her body language indicating scepticism as she almost seemed to roll her eyes.

Then, she rested her head on her paws, appearing disinterested until her gaze fixated on the mysterious orb hanging around his neck, detecting the presence of restless spirits trapped within. Suddenly, her ears perked up and she swiftly rose to all fours, trying to resist the magical confinement that bound her to her cage. This enchantment had been cast by a witch as a favour, under duress, as he had threatened to end her life if she refused.

"Peace, my dear," he murmured, unclasping the orb from around his neck. He slowed his pace, projecting a calm demeanour in an attempt to soothe her observable unease while approaching her with a bit of a grin. "I brought you a gift."

Her soulless eyes watched him warily, hackles raised until he crouched down before her so that she did not feel as though he was domineering her with his presence. he held the necklace out toward her, letting it swing like a pendulum in his hand. The lost souls wailed in the orb pleadingly. Slowly, she crept forward, nostrils flaring as she sniffed at the captive soul.

Before she could take a chomp at it, he pulled it back and made sure to explain to her, "I am giving this to you as a peace offering for leaving you in your cage for so long."

Her gaze remained on the orb, almost slobbering hungrily for the orb.

Shaking his head adoringly, he held it in front of her cage again. With a sudden lunge, she clamped her powerful jaws around the orb, shattering the fragile glass. The trapped spirits burst forth in a swirling, ethereal display, their mournful cries echoing through his chambers. His hound threw her head back and let out a triumphant howl, revelling in her newfound power.

He watched, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

Frazier is grateful, he heard her communicating with him through her thoughts.

He nodded in acknowledgement, standing up to his full height. Even though it always seemed as though he was feeding her for her enjoyment, it benefited him more than it did her. Now, with the lost souls added to her repertoire, his loyal companion would be an even more formidable guardian.

"My father has ordered me on a mission to Umbral," he informed her with his back turned to her, producing the key to her cage using the spell taught to him by the witch. "I am going to need you to come along with me. The Minotaurs aren't easily intimidated."

When he glanced back over at her, he noticed that she was already standing firmly, awaiting his next words.

"I am going to let you out of your cage now," he warned her in case she got shaken up by any sudden movement.

When she gave him a look of approval, he expertly unlocked the hatch. Slowly she prowled out, standing at her usual height now which was just above his hip.

"Ready?"

At your command, Princeps Tenebris.

* * *

Drunken fools everywhere he looked.

His cloak darkened his entire demeanour, hiding the face most would eagerly want to peer at.

He watched the barmaid who was gracefully making the rounds, swiping what she could from any oblivious Minotaur. It was quite impressive how she was doing it as well, pretending to wipe their table and purloining whatever was available like a professional. None of them even realised that behind the sickly, sweet smile she wore and the brushes she gave them was a beautiful distraction to get their possessions.

This place that the Minotaur had built was an… anomaly. The sign outside before he set foot inside this establishment flashed Mino Pub.

The smell of rum in the air was making it stale.

His nose twitched.

His eyes roamed every single face he could see, like a nark who was seeking information. When his father would later ask him for every little bit of detail about the minotaur, he wanted to be precise on purpose. Just to rub it in his face.

A rugged and intimidating figure with an unkempt, oily beard threw his head back, emitting a deep, hearty laugh that was a rare sight in the Underworld. However, minotaurs were a breed of their own. Unlike the familiar hellions, demons and hounds, minotaurs were truly unique in their own right. It was probably why his father banished them to live on their own.

His eyes flittered over to the next minotaur, probably a few years younger than he was, smiling over at him like a flirtatious coquette when she caught his gaze, clothes fitted onto her like a second skin. She was most definitely a harlot.

Where was Indra hiding?

"Indra wouldn't appreciate ye staring at her daughter in the manner that ye are," the barmaid who was previously walking around the pub stopped beside me, her tone neither squeaky nor soft, but a cross between both. The way she opened her mouth revealed a row of yellowish teeth, sitting in rows and rows of imperfections.

"And who will tell Indra that I stare at her daughter?" he mused with a hint of jest in his tone.

She smirked, her mischievous gaze drifting over to the female minotaur—Indra's daughter. He was not aware that her daughter was going to be here as well. After placing the mug down and picking up the next one, the barmaid used a damp towel to cleanse the cup. "She is off limits, demon."

Fortunately, he was not seeking to bed anyone here.

"Luckily for you," the barmaid paused, crossing her arms over her chest to purposefully push her breasts up, "I'm not."

With a look of amusement, he mused, "So Indra does not have as much of a leash on you as she does every other minotaur, huh?"

She leaned into him seductively while curling her tongue out of her mouth, but then her eyes flickered up to meet the eyes of the presence he could feel looming over his shoulder. She instantly stood erect again, a smile so fake that it could be spotted by the most moronic demon painting across her face. "Indra, what a wonderful surprise. What ye be doing here?"

"This is my pub, Valeria. I have the right to pop in whenever I feel like it. I just suddenly had the thought to maybe check up on you. How are you managing here? I hope you haven't been causing any trouble."

"What, me? I would never."

"Yes, you would. Where the hell is Milwau by the way? She was not supposed to leave the house today."

"She's sitting over there, madam."

Luciano decided it was time to reveal his presence, spinning around on the stool to face Indra.

Her brow furrowed as she studied him and when she noticed him even past the hood of his cloak, her eyes widened the slightest bit and her mouth was parted the slightest bit.

Indra was a tall minotaur, the face of a beautiful bloom, blossoming with a splendid contour that outlined her pulchritude. Her eyes were a yellow pigment which was brought into focus as the colour contrasted immensely against her dark skin. He had not seen a woman who looked so pretty on the outside but filled with such turpitude on the inside, heart swelling and oozing with a vileness that dripped black, staining whatever she put her hands on.

Her beauty betrayed.

Then again, if one was in the Underworld it was for a reason.

After shaking her head, she tamed her expression. "Luciano, we weren't expecting you."

Silence.

All eyes were on them.

"Luciano?" Valeria mused in bemusement behind him and when he pulled his cloak off his head, a surprised gasp escaped her. "Princeps Tenebris."

The sound of the voice of his hound entered his thoughts at that very moment, Must Frazier kill Milwau now?

He contemplated the idea for a second but he did not know what to say in response to his hound.

"You have grown since I last saw you, child."

"Have I?"

Instead of responding, she bobbed her head up and down silently.

Princeps Tenebris?

"Yes, I'm here, Frazier. Do not kill her just yet. Lucifer's instructions were very clear."

For a moment, she did not respond and then with reluctance she sighed, Frazier understands.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of being blessed with your presence, my prince?" Indra mused after dismissing the barmaid.

"Lucifer sent me."

"And when exactly did you turn into your father's little errand boy, Luciano?"

He rolled his eyes, seeing past her teasing tone and instead chose to address why he was here in the first place. "The frequent quakes your minotaurs are creating are causing too much disturbance in the Underworld. I am simply here to warn you to get your beasts in check before my father gets fed up and sends his hounds to deal with you instead."

Indra took in what he had just said to her with a bored look on her face. Her gait was straight and almost elegant, too elegant for the Underworld. His gaze pierced through her earnestly.

Honestly, he couldn't care less whether she heeded his warning or not.

"First we get banished by Lucifer to live in Umbral; now we are getting pestered about quakes and threatened to be hounded."

Eventually, he noticed how quiet it had gotten in the pub and curiously, he glanced around. Where had everybody gone?

"I may need you to abandon your form and go back to yours, Frazier, for reinforcement."

Frazier can kill even without own body, Princeps Tenebris.

"I do not want to risk it, Frazier. I will tell you when to leave that form."

"Indra," he murmured, thinning his gaze cautiously. "I am merely the messenger."

She eyed him with scepticism, her brow furrowed as she glanced down at me. With a bit of a simper, she whispered, her voice dripping with suspicion, "Then why is your hound here with you?"

His brows flicked up in surprise.

How did she know he had his hound with him?

Worriedly, he called for Frazier, but she did not answer this time.

To feign nonchalance, Luciano held up his hands in a placating gesture. "My hound is not here on any mission of aggression. Frazier is only a loyal companion, nothing more."

The door slammed open with a deafening bang, causing him to instinctively glance over her shoulder. To his horror, he saw a massive minotaur dragging his beloved pet hound along with them. She was chained up, whimpering in fear while simultaneously trying to nip at the beast.

"Frazier!" he cried out, immediately jumping to his feet. But before he could stake a step towards her, two more minotaurs grabbed hold of his wings, forcing him back onto his stool. While struggling against their iron grip, he shouted commandingly, "Get your filthy hands off her."

"Oh, baby," Indra kissed her teeth with a look of mock sympathy on her expression. "Even while being powerless, your arrogance still shines through. You get it from your father."

He growled at her.

"I can never understand what I did to constantly be disrespected by you demons."

His heart raced as he watched helplessly while they hauled his hound away, her frantic growls echoing in the pub. He had to save her. But with these brutes holding him back, he was powerless to intervene. Of course, these fucking cowards were using the weakness of his wings against him. Panic and fury welled up inside him. He thrashed and kicked, but the minotaurs merely tightened their hold, unfazed by his attempts at resistance.

"Let me go," he demanded, his voice booming loudly. "Indra, call your dogs off and I might just let you live."

Her nose wrinkled in irritation and after pinching her eyes shut, she muttered, "See, it's threats like that which piss me off."

Then she glanced over at the two minotaurs dragging his hound back, and he furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to read the look in her eyes. Frazier's gaze met his, desperate and afraid, and his heartbeat quickened in the hollow of his chest.

"Don't—"

A crack rang in the air.

He instantly glanced away, involuntarily flinching. No… he tried to suppress the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. But when his gaze returned to the scene, his heart sank as he witnessed the limp form of his companion, lying on the floor lifelessly. His hand trembled as he heaved a deep breath in and out of his lungs.

The deafening silence which followed was nearly unbearable.

He fought back the foreign liquid that stung his eyes, his mind racing to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

Then a fury like no other burned within him and angrily, he threatened, "You are going to wish you were a tortured soul for doing that."

She grinned down at him arrogantly.

The pub grew unnervingly quiet until the silence was filled by the clicking of heels. All eyes turned towards the doorway as the sound echoed through the room. A tall, striking woman strode in, her presence commanding attention in the chaos. His eyes travelled from her toes across the pastel skin of the newcomer. The second he met her eyes, his bulged out of their sockets.

"You?" he murmured in shock, brows furrowing in bemusement.

Her purple eyes shifted from his hound's body over to land on him and when she saw his expression, a slight smile began to play at the corners of her lips. She quickly fixed her hair up into a bun, her tail moving around as if it had a mind of its own. Unlike earlier on, there was an air of mystery and danger that seemed to surround her. Gone was the guileless harlot.

She was the succubus from his father's office.

"Lucifer is gonna hear of your rebellion."

She leaned into him, her crimson lips curling into a predatory grin. With a bit of a purr, her voice like velvet, she muttered condescendingly, "Not from you he's not."

Then he felt a weight coming down on me, knocking him clean out.