The anticipation!

And just as he predicted, they arrived, though this time he was truly prepared.

He waited for them in the room, his crimson eyes gleaming like a demon's in the darkness of the night. His breath hitched, listening for the creak of the wooden floor, the weight of their steps, the count of their strides. With each nearing footfall, the darkness within him stirred like a potent potion.

His hands tensed, fingers flexing and relaxing. Heat surged through his body, blood racing like molten fire through his veins.

"Are you sure about this?" The Elven girl beside him asked, her voice soft yet clear in the quiet of the night. "Are you really certain you want to do this?"

On his other side, the poor bard nibbled his nails and trembled.

"It doesn't matter now. We need to escape from here, fast." An undertone of fear crept into Azrael's voice.

'Otherwise, we'll be nothing more than corpses.'

He had been awake for a longer period of time, straining his ears for any moments from the downstairs. But what he heard was nothing short of a massacre. Screaming and the sounds of flesh being torn and ripped apart.

And then there was silence.

Azrael gazed at the pair, determination masking his face, yet a flicker of fear gleamed in his eyes. "Remember, we're going to move quietly when we run. We're not staying here to fight them, got it?"

Kaitlynn nodded, her resolve evident.

Illeron, however, regarded him as if he'd lost his mind. "Obviously, we're not hanging around. Who stays where they just wrecked?" He still trembled, processing the whirlwind they found themselves in.

First, seduced by a Witch, and now a deranged woman out for their lives. What a captivating adventure this had become.

'If this is adventure, count me out,' he thought, shaking his head, a lone tear escaping his eye. 'Forgive me, Mother, but I don't think I'll make it back to you.'

"Hey, don't fear. We'll make it out of here," Azrael said, giving Illeron's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Not out of friendship or any other nonsense, but because he needed the group to keep moving forward, and that required everyone to stand strong instead of cowering in fear.

Then they heard a loud bang as the door to a room near theirs burst open and men filed in with heavy steps. Then there was silence.

"They ain't here, boss." one of them rasped, his voice all scratchy like he's been gargling with gravel.

"Scour the joint," another voice barked, this one having that bossy ring to it. "Leave no stone unturned."

After a few minutes, that same high-pitched voice piped up again. "Nothin', boss. They gotta be on the flip side, hammerin' that slave. Sounds like they're havin' a grand ol' time."

"Should we lend 'em a hand, fellas?" The big cheese chimed in, triggering a round of chuckles. "Bet those young lads ain't even figured out where to stick their weenies yet, huh?" More laughter erupted in response.

Azrael caught the sound of grinding teeth next to him. He glanced at the girl, intending to soothe her, but a surprise awaited him in her eyes. They glowed, and her fingers practically drummed on the wooden table she clenched.

He chose to do nothing, recognizing this was a positive development. 'This is also good.'

Feeling his gaze, the Elven girl turned to him, and their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. "I wish to see them all eradicated," she declared, her voice laced with hatred and disgust. Azrael could practically sense her thirst for vengeance.

He simply nodded his head. Dialogues were unnecessary here.

"Boss, you reckon we'll catch 'em red-handed? Could be the lads gettin' all frisky?"

Illeron choked beside Azrael. "Don't listen to them," he muttered to the poor lad.

"Lady Aria's only after the girl. Ain't no word 'bout her keepin' pristine, is there? Leaves us some room for entertainment, after we've snatched 'em, that is."

Kaitlynn's eyes blazed. Azrael had to grip her shoulders to prevent her from charging out and slaughtering them all.

"Not now. In time." He said to the girl.

The thugs inadvertently aided Azrael's cause. The two by his side, initially hesitant about the plan, were now the ones eager to pounce.

'A couple more words and even Illeron might be on board.'

"I reckon the girl's untouched. What say you, lads? Fancy a go at it?"

"Yeah!"

"Let's get to it!"

"Who's up first?"

"Me!"

"Nah, me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

"You lot ain't touching her till I'm done, got it?" The boss's voice silenced his crew.

"We'll nab 'em mid-action." The squeaky voice piped up. "Then it's curtains for 'em. Once that's done, we'll enjoy ourselves. Every last one of us."

Illeron turned a sickly shade of green, clearly disgusted.

The men let out a chuckle. "Time to fetch the ropes and chains, lads."

Azrael could practically sense the electric tension in the air as Kaitlynn's bloodlust intensified.

Amidst the laughter, another door down the corridor swung open, revealing a man clad only in pants.

"What in damnation's going on? Can't you fools make a bloody ruckus outdoors?" He jolted back as his eyes landed on the thugs' blood-smeared weapons and clubs.

He audibly gulped, his eyes wide like a startled owl.

"Um, excuse the disturbance, sirs. Best of luck with your...uh, endeavors, boss. I'm sure the lady would make a splendid addition to your...uh, supper."

He performed an awkward half-bow, shuffling backward toward his room as if afraid they might mistake him for the main course. With a hasty flinch, he managed to slam the door shut, barricading himself inside.

"Should we give him a dirt nap?"

"Nah, let's just get to the juicy part with the girl," the boss retorted.

Then a hushed silence settled in, as if the boss was waiting for a dramatic entrance.

The trio concealed in the room held their breath, seizing the moment.

"What's that stench?" The boss questioned.

"Smells like a fresh dose of fear, boss."

Their laughter reverberated, and then the boss's boot connected with the door, causing it to come unhinged.

They filed into the room, each one anticipating to catch them red-handed. However, their hopes were dashed as they found nothing but a neatly arranged leftovers of a meal on the bed.

"Boss, the smell...it's Fireoil."

Just as their confusion deepened, a single word echoed from somewhere in the vicinity of the other room. The word was clear and audible, reaching the ears of all present.

"Ignis."