Crimson Kisses | ENGLOT

Chapter 10: The Truth

The iron tang of rust and neglect hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the jasmine clinging desperately to summer's memory. Calliope sniffed the air. "Something's rotten, even for this place," she murmured, her voice an echo in the cavernous space.

Beside her, Maeve adjusted the silvered dagger strapped to her thigh, its gleam a defiant spark in the gloom. "Agreed. The silence is...unnerving." The absence of Lsen and his rogues had gnawed at them for months. This uncharacteristic peace felt wrong, like the prelude to a storm.

The abandoned factory loomed, its skeletal frame silhouetted against the sliver of moon peeking through storm clouds. The silence thick with the rustle of unseen things.

They crept closer, senses stretched taut, the silence pressing in like a closing fist.

Suddenly, a figure materialized from the shadows, moonlight glinting off a wickedly curved blade. Laughter, cold and sharp, echoed through the factory. "Well, well, Calliope and the ever-charming Maeve. So nice of you to drop by."

Lsen emerged fully, a dozen vampires flanking him, their eyes glowing like embers in the gloom. Calliope's hand flew to the hilt of her own blade, a snarl twisting her lips. It's a trap.

"Months of quiet," Maeve hissed, her voice laced with venom. "Playing possum, were you?"

Lsen chuckled, the sound like gravel scraping bone. "More like setting a trap, mes petites. We knew you'd come sniffing, your curiosity too sharp to resist." He gestured towards the factory's gaping maw. "Welcome to your new home."

Calliope's eyes narrowed, taking in the makeshift bars welded over the windows, the sharpened fence posts lining the perimeter. This wasn't just a hideout; it was a cage. Trapped, outnumbered, and facing an unknown fate, Calliope knew one thing for certain – the silence was finally broken, and the game had just begun.

A slow smile spread across her face, sharp as a fang. "Let the games begin," she purred, her voice ringing with defiance. "We may be guests, Lsen, but we're not staying long."

But Lsen merely chuckled. "Oh, you are, my dears. You're staying for awhile."

Calliope lunged first, a blur of silver and fury. Her dagger flashed, catching the moonlight, as she aimed for the nearest rogue. Steel met flesh, but the blow was deflected by a hastily raised arm. She snarled, twisting and launching another attack, only to be blocked again. Panic threatened to rise, but she pushed it down, remembering Maeve's words about never yielding to fear.

Maeve, a whirlwind of fury, danced through the encroaching horde, her daggers flashing in the dim light, each strike precise and deadly. Yet, for every rogue they felled, two more seemed to materialize from the shadows, their hunger a palpable force in the confined space.

Calliope fought with the desperation of a cornered animal, but the odds were stacked against them. Each parry, each dodge, left them drained. The rogues, fueled by Lsen's cunning plan and their own bloodlust, overwhelmed them. Maeve, pinned to the ground by two hulking figures, struggled in vain.

Just as despair threatened to engulf them, a deafening clang echoed through the factory. A metal pipe, ripped from the wall, clattered across the floor, drawing the rogues' attention. In the momentary distraction, Calliope saw her chance. With a burst of adrenaline, she launched herself at Lsen, the tip of her dagger aimed for his heart.

He moved with inhuman speed, catching her wrist effortlessly. Her eyes widened in horror as he twisted, her own momentum sending her crashing into the steel bars. Pain flared through her shoulder, but it was the cold dread in her gut that truly terrified her. Lsen loomed over her, his face a mask of cruel amusement.