The Ring

0026

Seeing her fiance again had ignited a fire within Chrissa that she'd never even imagined before. Her body stood still--more still than usual, being unalive, practically a walking corpse. Her words felt like thick honey, stuck in the back of her throat.

"S-stephen?" Chrissa choked out.

He chuckled darkly. "Miss me?"

"What are you doing here?" Asked Michael, as he narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be terrorizing innocent people or something?" He was the first to break the silence before the pale haired Vampire King chimed in after him.

"I actually agree with him for a change," he murmured. Michael rolled his eyes. Stephen chuckled arrogantly, as the gates behind them began to shut. Both Mars and Chrissa stiffened. The stench of danger had lurked through the cavern walls and crept its way in front of them. "K-kandor, stop. Just do what he says," Chrissa said slowly.

"No, I'm sick of this." Mars shook her head, as she stepped in front of her. Her fearful eyes gazed into Stevens, and she crossed her arms strong over her chest, "where the hell is my boyfriend, where is max!"

"Max?" Stephen questioned, as he looked to the Seadroid beside him. "I ordered you to get Michael!" He said angrily.

"What?" Mars questioned, "I don't understand–" her voice broke off, as she turned to Chrissa. There existed a brief bit of silence, as she looked from Chrissa to Michael, as dumbfoundedness had lurked across their faces. Chrissa was about to speak, when the silver haired man beat her to it.

Kandor stepped forward slowly, "whatever it is you're planning, you're going to fail. You're powerless to the four of us."

Stephen narrowed his eyes. "You're just as I remembered you, brother. Weak. Using everyone around you and constantly failing to do things yourself. You will never be even half as powerful as me."
He wore a dark cape and heavy metal armor—it wasn't from the palace, no—but rather elsewhere. His armor had been a dark emerald shade, adorned with carefully crafted embellishments.

Stephen's deep, turquoise eyes had gazed into Kandor's cloudy pale ones in a way that a knife would plunge into one's chest. He knew the power of his words and there was a type of satisfaction he gained when he tore others down. He was addicted to power in the way a child was to sugar. He relished in it. He loved nothing more to see his brother fail. Kandor didn't deserve anything, Stephen thought. He did.

"It was me who was always mother's favorite. Me, who secured a spot at the palace, next in line to be king. Me, always stronger than you. Me, who got Chrissa," he paused, and slowly pulled his sword from where it had been fasted by his thigh, "because I am simply better than you."

Everyone's gaze had shifted to Kandor. His eyes went dark, the anger practically radiating off of him. His fangs grew three inches longer, and there was the existence of pain, agony, death, and pure hatred that swirled in his eyes.
The muscles in his hands twitched. There existed a desperate, depraved longing to bash his skull into the center of their planet and drag his insides across the mud and set them ablaze. A longing, to take his soul from the shackles of his body and send it to some place where it would be tortured for eternity. A longing, to destroy the remnants of his brother's existence for taking away his life, and anything that he could have ever had.

"I should've fucking killed you when I had the chance," he growled. Any facade of nonchalance or sarcasm that plagued Kandors expression had unraveled as the rawness of his emotions had manifested ever so vicariously at the mere existence of his brother.

Stephen smiled, "but you didn't."

Kandor grimaced, "I was a child!"

A part of Chrissa longed to intervene. She wanted to say something, anything to break the thick aura of anger, of hatred--but it was between the two brothers. There was nothing she could do.