DESCENT

Epilogue

"Start by pulling him out of the fire and
hoping that he will forget the smell.

He was supposed to be an angel, but they took him
from that light and turned him into something hungry,
something that forgets what his hands are for when they
aren't shaking.

He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen
because you had him first, and you will let the world
break its own neck if it means keeping him.
Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and
pretending to understand.

Repeat to yourself–

"I won't leave you. I won't leave you"

...until you fall asleep and dream of the place
where nothing is red.

. . .

The throne of the King of all Vampires is cold and rigid as a human's corpse. It was a seat of power and strength, one that is made of gold, embedded with the brightest of rubies and—much to the awe and horror of his subjects—his throne was lined with the purest of silver... and yet, their king lounges in it comfortably as though it was a bed made of roses.

Other than sunlight, silver is one of the greatest known weaknesses to monsters. However, silver had long since stopped having any sort of effect to him. Really, it was more of a testament to show just how powerful he has come to be.

So, the King sits comfortably.

The dark throne room is vast and filled with his many servants lurking about in the corners as he waits patiently for the messenger to get on with what he had to hear about his dearly beloved goddess of shadows...

And while the King has seen her, of course, through the many of eyes of the vampires she had hunted and slaughtered like animals over the years, has watched her bloom so beautifully from that silly, little doll that died on the underground temple of what remained of her family's compound into a fierce, underworld goddess renowned for taking down monsters without an ounce of mercy.

Monsters like him.

He sincerely prays Amara (or is it apt to call her Proserpina now? Yes, he decides, liking the sound of her new name, Proserpina) knows that although he may not be physically allowed to be with her like he used to, as he so dearly wished, he was always watching with rapt attention reserved only for the goddess he had devoted himself to as she continued to hunt down monsters left and right alone or amongst those mortal worshippers of her's.

The righteous fury and cold vengeance burning brightly in those eyes of black was drawing him in like a moth to a flame... just as it did a millennium ago.

He didn't mind being burned.

Going out in flames is such a marvelous way to die.

It's such a pity that he hadn't been there to watch on the front row seat when the demigoddess now known as Proserpina rose from the ashes of her charred humanity on that fateful night. He would have traded a limb or two in a heartbeat just to witness her transformation... but the outcome was pleasing as it is. He'd settle for it.

It was more than he had ever hoped for.

Whether she would come to realize it or not, the King of Vampires might as well have been the spark. Nay, the inferno that consumed her mortal flesh for her to become divine once more.

He couldn't even be mad that she had actually struck him and left their bed cold... with that little mortal brat of her's over a decade ago. In fact, the King had honestly never expected for her to reach this far because for an entire decade, the goddess of shadows had almost never showed herself outside of a fight, sounding more of a myth, a monster in her own right. One that devours another as she hunts down his kin in a bid to cull their still-rapidly growing numbers.