Darkest Desires → Caliban [CAOS]

ii. the unholy regalia

THE UNHOLY REGALIA
CHAPTER TWO

Their feet slammed onto the black tiled floors, echoing throughout the large hall as the puff of red smoke disappeared. For Dahlia, it was hard to miss the faint crimson blood that stained the floors and the walls, but Caliban seemed unbothered. Maybe it was because he was used to it after having seen it so often. Or maybe he simply didn't care about the frightening events at which the blood was shed, Dahlia thought.

"Welcome to Hell," Caliban announced, almost seemingly comforted by being in the cold, dimly lit halls of death and monsters.

"Doesn't really feel welcoming," Dahlia whispered, eyeing the torn black and red wallpaper that carried the memories of death and chaos.

Dahlia stayed close behind the tall prince as he led her down the wide hallway of the place he called home. It frightened her to think that this was where certain beings lived and felt comfortable. She hadn't seen much yet, but the fear in her chest had settled long before they had arrived in Hell.

Soft cool air drifted through the castle like wandering souls, sending shivers down Dahlia's spine. Being in Hell and working with Caliban were far from things she wanted to do. All her masters alike, Caliban was merely another blood-sucking leach who had summoned her from her bottle for his own selfishness. Except, the difference this time, was that the deal he offered her was hard to refuse. Her freedom– what she had dreamed of for what felt like an eternity– was finally going to be given to her. Her endless days of tears of sorrow, her unending loneliness and the treacherous memories of her past– would all finally come to an end... all at the price of helping Caliban and sucking up the discomfort of being in Hell or in his presence.

"So, Dahlia," Caliban spoke as he stopped in front of a door. "I'm going to show you to your chamber, and then later on we're going to get to work."

"To work?" She questioned, hoping for a more elaborate response than the constant vagueness he had been giving her from the moment they had met.

"Yes. I'm going to be attending a meeting– a very important one, for that matter... one that I'm going to be late to because I have to explain this to you," he grumbled and glanced at Dahlia to see her reaction to his last statement. It was clear his last comment had been a deliberate way to get a rise out of the impatient girl, which he succeeded at when she rolled her eyes. "I have an opponent; she's trying to win the throne too, and although she is unqualified, I most likely will have to still compete against her."

"And that's where I come in." Dahlia nodded, pursing her lips and looking down at her hands. "Got it."

"This is your chamber," Caliban declared, pushing open the old wooden door. Dahlia's attention was instantly captured by the room Caliban presented to her, her lips parted in awe. "Wait in here. Don't leave, do you understand?"

"Yeah," she muttered, hesitantly stepping into the room. It was so dark, lit only ambiently by candelabras on the corners of the walls. The scratches on the walls brought Dahlia's arms up and her across her body in a hug as she took in the frightening space. The furniture was old, all made of dark wood that was peeling in some areas. Only one thing in the room was remotely pretty– the mirror on top of the dresser. Its frame was wooden and old, but something about its design reminded Dahlia of the ancient Arabic carvings in her furniture at home millennia ago... before her entire world turned upside down and she was thrown into her bottle.