DARK AND DANGEROUS...
Are the only things that can define Dante Hall.
He is the monster in your nightmares, he is the death that follows you endlessly, he is the darkness swarming the shadows.
I thought my life was broken after my soul had been c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A knock fell on my "bedroom" door as I laid on my bed, scrolling through my social media.
"What do you want?" I demanded angrily.
Dante just stepped casually in the room, sitting on the bed beside me as I kept my back to him. "Are you bored?"
"No, just trying to pass the time."
"Ah, so you're bored."
"Do you mind?" I snapped then, scooting a bit away from him. "I'm busy. Or couldn't you tell?"
He remained silent then.
But he just leaned over me and snatched my phone.
I shot up, glaring at him. "Hey!"
He just lightly set it on my nightstand and gazed up at me with his... smile. "Don't be so angry. It's not like I threw it in the bathtub or stomped it to pieces."
I just glared, anger brimming inside me. "What do you want?"
He just gazed up, red eyes glowing slightly. "I merely ask for a favor."
I scoffed then and got up from the bed, picking up my phone from the nightstand and moving across the room to charge it. "Favor? Don't be an idiot. You can't just kidnap someone and ask for favors."
He was silent for too long, and I just sat back onto my bed, back to him.
"It would benefit you, too," Dante said then.
"If you're talking about a contract—"
"Luca, I don't want your blood," he stated then.
"I don't care what you want," I snapped then. "I don't... belong to you."
He sighed then, as if he expected this outcome. "If I may ask... is there something you want? Something dear to you?"
"I don't like the question."
"It's simple."
"It warrants a contract," I retorted.
He was silent again. "Luca, I don't want your blood."
"Yes, you want to kill me," I snapped then. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You want to kill me, slaughter me, murder me? Feast upon me?"
"No," he said then, tone sharpening, "if you'll just listen, I will make you more bacon."
I silenced then, sitting still for a moment.
But I finally spoke, "Fine, whatever."
"If I might be frank," he said then, tone dark, "it seems as if your life is in danger. I've heard your nightmares... let alone the killing of your sister."
The familiar cold pain of the mention of her name did not come... nothing came.
Did he really manage to make that feeling go numb?
