Sacrifice

Chapter 18 : Bite Me

"Petal? Petal!" Sunoo's terrified shrike pierces your ears almost painfully. The air around you is dense and cold, feeling a little too heavy in your chest as your heart rate spikes. The large red muscle aches terribly, beating too violently almost as if it were throwing itself against the walls of your ribcage, begging to break free. The room you're standing in is dark and you can't quite make out your surroundings, but something tells you you're still in the castle. As you spin around in a frantic circle, something deep within you trembles. Has the castle always felt this cold and empty?

Suddenly, a tall figure rushes up to you with heaving breaths, tripping over his own feet and nearly tumbling onto you. Your arms fumble to catch the breathless prince and help him regain his balance.

"S-Sunoo?" you stutter, finally recognizing the silhouette of the foxy prince's features. Your tone is so soft and distant that you barely register the sound. The prince standing in your arms is almost unrecognizable. Sunoo is uncharacteristically disheveled, with his clothes tattered and multiple cuts littering his once-unblemished face. Variants of dried and fresh blood paint his pale skin eerie shades of crimson while strands of his hair stick out in odd directions.

"Help us, petal," he pleads. When the prince finally meets your gaze, a chill instantly zips down your spine. Something is wrong. Instead of his normal beautiful amber eyes, Sunoo's eyes are glowing a bright golden shade.

"What's happening, Sunoo? Where are the others? Who did this to you?" Your voice falters and your hands tremble as they reach up to cup the prince's face. Yet, just as the prince opens his mouth to respond, he dissipates into thin air. You quickly reach out in a vain attempt to grab ahold of him but it seems to be the wrong move. The floor beneath your feet begins to rumble, starting with a steady hum before the wooden panels crumble and a terrified scream rips from your throat. Within a matter of seconds, you're airborne, plummeting to the ground beneath you.

The impact of when your body hits the ground barely feels like the graze of a feather, and for a moment, you wonder if the adrenaline pumping through your veins is masking the true depth of your injuries. But you don't ponder on the thought for long as you push yourself to stand, finally recognizing your surroundings. You can see faint reflections coming from multiple reflective surfaces and if you squint hard enough, you can catch traces of gold trim swirling on the walls around you. The air also hints at your current location. Its open nature confirms the large capacity of this room, but it still feels just as cold. You're certain you've fallen into the ballroom.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand uneasily when you sense movement behind you. You spin around on your heel, expecting to see the princes, only to come face to face with an abyss of darkness.

"Riki? Is that you?" you call out desperately, deeply hoping this is just an elaborately twisted prank the shadow prince is playing on you.

"Riki?" an unfamiliar voice cackles. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut instinctively when the overhead chandeliers in the ballroom turn on suddenly. As you blink them open a few times, your breath catches in your throat. You're surrounded by an ocean of strangers who are all staring at you as a predator watches its prey. "You're beloved princes are dead, Princess."

"You're lying. They're immortal," you hiss through gritted teeth. "Tell me where they are right now. Who do you think you are? You have no right to hurt them like this."

"We have no right?" the voice cackles incredulously. Off to your side, a tall man steps forward from the crowd. You watch his steps closely through a glare as he begins to circle you. "Your princes were the ones who had no right to take away what rightfully belonged to us thousands of years ago!" he roars and the rest of the room erupts into loud shouts of agreement. Your expression falters and your heart begins to hammer in your chest. The cold perspiration covering your palms is uncomfortable so you clench your hands into tight fists in a poor attempt to distract yourself.