The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

14 | Corrupted by Shimmer

Author: Hi readers! Before diving into this chapter, I want to take a moment to share a content warning. This chapter includes scenes of violence, action, and descriptions of injury. Please proceed with caution if you're sensitive to this content. Thank you for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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Caitlyn's POV
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"Well, well, what do we have here?"

The voice was sharp, grating, and unmistakably mocking—a drawl that slithered into the air like oil over water.
I turned quickly, my heart lurching in my chest. My first thought was an ambush. My second thought was—well, I didn't get to a second thought before I was met with the sight of a figure.

At first glance, he might've passed for human—until you noticed the jars strapped to his chest, glowing faintly with a sickly purple light. Veins spiderwebbed out from where shimmering liquid coursed through his skin, twisting up his neck like invasive roots. He was tall and gaunt, their skin stretched tight over sharp bones—and his cheeks hollowed, but his eyes gleamed with unsettling intensity.

"What in Piltover's name is that?" I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

"Shimmer junkie," Vi muttered, her tone laced with disgust as she gave a dismissive grunt.
She didn't even look up from the pile of rusted tools she was rifling through, as though these kinds of horrors were just part of her world. "Guess we're in the middle of their happy hour."

"And what's this? Topside royalty?" The figure grinned, his lips peeling back to reveal jagged, stained teeth. "Pretty little doll like her doesn't belong here."

Vi straightened, her grip tightening around a rusty wrench. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes held a sharp edge. "You always this chatty," she drawled, her tone dry, "or is that just the brain rot talking?"

The junkie's grin twisted into something darker, and his body convulsed with a manic jolt. But before I could draw another breath, more shadows began to move. One by one, other figures emerged—half a dozen at least, each one warped in the same grotesque fashion. One of them dragged a makeshift blade against the wall, sparks flaring in the dim light.

There were around seven of them now, surrounding us like predators closing in on wounded prey.

"Vi..." My voice was steady, but I couldn't ignore the way my pulse quickened. Instinctively, I shifted closer to her, my hand brushing her arm.

She rolled her shoulders, tightening her grip on the wrench like it was an extension of herself. "Stay behind me."

Before I could protest, Vi launched forward. Her wrench cut through the air with brutal precision, connecting with the junkie's ribs in a sickening crunch. The impact sent him sprawling into a pile of debris, followed by the hiss of shattered glass as one of the jars exploded—a noxious vapor curling into the air.

Before I could even process what just happened, another junkie charged. This one had a rusted blade in his hand, its edge jagged and blackened. Vi spun, deflecting the strike with a deafening clang. She shoved him back with her shoulder, then swung upward with a swift punch to his gut, forcing the breath from his lungs in a sharp wheeze. Before he could recover, she drove her knee into his jaw with brutal force.

I scanned the area frantically, searching for anything—anything—that could serve as a weapon to defend myself. My whole life had been spent within the sheltered walls of that cursed tower, which hadn't exactly included lessons on combat—but I wasn't going to stand here and let them corner us.

As my eyes scanned the room, I noticed three more surged forward, their makeshift weapons gleaming in the dim light.

"Vi, there's too many!" I warned, my voice rising.