𝙱𝙰𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙱𝙴𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃

•𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚁𝚃𝚈-𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙴•

May 10, 2024

Mortal Realm

In the dimly lit room, the soft, melancholic strumming of a guitar filled the air. August, for the first time in what felt like ages, sat on the edge of his bed, fingers deftly dancing over the strings. The music was a catharsis, a momentary escape from the whirlwind of chaos surrounding him.

Each melody he played transported him back through the corridors of his life, beginning with the moment he first met Yuna. He could see her clearly, standing under the moonlight, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and determination. The notes flowed effortlessly, painting vivid pictures of their early days, the bond that had formed between them, and the adventures they had shared.

But as the music continued, other memories surfaced. Desireé's enchanting smile and the bewitchment that had ensnared him, pulling him into a web of desire and confusion. The melodies grew darker, reflecting the turmoil within him as he grappled with the duality of his emotions. He remembered the allure of Desireé's touch, the way she had made him feel invincible and vulnerable all at once.

Then, like a haunting refrain, memories of Sumeria emerged. Her wisdom and strength had always been a guiding light, yet even her presence couldn't shield him from the complexities of his heart. The music shifted again, blending the past and present, the joy and pain, creating a symphony of his life's tangled web.

Meanwhile, in a secluded corner of the mansion, Emory and Tracy finally reunited with Marlon, Troy, Trell, and Shaq. The room buzzed with tension as Emory and Tracy detailed the bizarre and terrifying events.

"Man, this is some messed-up stuff," Marlon said, running a hand over his buzzed hair. "I mean, voodoo gods and loas? This is way out of our league."

Shaq shook his head, his usual bravado replaced with a palpable unease. "I've seen some crazy things, but this? It's like something out of a horror movie."

Trell nodded in agreement. "We have to figure out how to help August. We can't just sit back and do nothing."

Troy, the quietest of the group, finally spoke up. "I've got a bad feeling about this. Messing with voodoo and spirits... we need to be careful. But we can't abandon August."

Emory clenched his fists. "We're in this together. We'll find a way."

Meanwhile, In her lavishly decorated room, Desireé paced back and forth, her mind racing. She had to devise a way to prevent August from performing the blood ritual he had proposed. Her thoughts turned to her mother, Desire, the only one who could help her master the mind control powers she had barely tapped into.

She picked up her phone, dialing her mother with trembling fingers. After a few rings, Desire's stern voice came through. "Desireé, what is it?"

"Mother," Desireé began, her voice wavering. "I need your help. August wants to do a blood ritual to prove our love. I need to control his mind to stop him, but I don't know how."

Desire's tone remained cold and impatient. "Desireé, you should already know how to do this. You need to master your powers on your own. I can't hold your hand through everything."

"But mother—"

"No buts," Desire interrupted sharply. "You're a descendant of power. Act like it. Figure it out, or face the consequences."

Desireé bit her lip, frustration and fear mingling in her chest. "I understand, Mother. I'll do my best."

"See that you do," Desire said before hanging up.