The Red Rose

Chapter XXXV

I was nearly semi-conscious, having lost a tremendous amount of blood, and couldn't remember much about where I was. I only recall being dragged to a pavilion, and from there to a kind of prison, in what seemed to be an old dungeon that had been partially modernized.

The bars of my cell had very peculiar shapes, and there were various symbols that appeared arcane or magical around the place. The bars were quite strange, with patterns that resembled spikes, and the cell lock had a very unusual key.

I could also see security cameras and a guard at the entrance of the place, who seemed to be wearing a very peculiar type of mask.

In front of me was another prisoner, a man with a long beard, wavy hair that was partially gray. His aura gave me the impression that he was an older person, and his demeanor was serene, very serene, almost bordering on unsettling.

Next to him, in the other cell, was a very young man, blond and impeccable for a prisoner. The guy could easily pass as one of those runway models. He seemed to be playing with what looked like a tennis ball, bouncing it off the wall before throwing it again.

"Stop that, Gray!" said the guard, apparently very angry.

"Can't a prisoner enjoy the simple pleasures of life? Besides, I've already read all the books they've given me," the guy complained with a playful laugh.

"If you want, you could ask the guard to bring you a Bible, young Gray. Perhaps that would bore you much less," the other prisoner responded.

"I'm sure the vampire will burn when he touches it!" The guy laughed. "When was the last time you confessed, my dear Lycaon?"

The bearded man made a gesture of annoyance and replied, "You know, young Gray, my gods are not the same as those your generation worships."

As I listened to the bizarre conversation, I began to feel very ill. I think I had a fever and nausea, and my body temperature felt elevated. I was covered in bandages all over, and I began to remember the times when I had tuberculosis. The bearded man, called Lycaon, was thoughtful and stared at me intently. He paused and said:

"The ghouls really did a number on you. Rest, kid. The doctor will surely come to see you."

I lay down on the bed, curled up, mourning my father, and couldn't help but let out a few sobs. I heard Dorian making exasperated sighs, and Lycaon seemed to contemplate the wall, almost meditating.

"I've heard about your loss, boy. I'm very sorry. Losing a father is one of the most painful feelings for the soul. I lost several children over the years, and each loss was like a dagger to the heart. My father died in battle, defending the homeland."

Lycaon seemed to want to console me. I simply sat up again, looking at the floor, wiping away my tears. He calmly continued with his story:

"Despite the tragic circumstances in which your father died, you must understand that it's nature's duty for parents to die before their children, and I'm sure he would have been proud of the bravery you showed in coming here. You're a noble warrior, with honor. I'm sure your father must have been a great man," he finished calmly.

Dorian drew a smile and added:

"Exactly, besides, there are so many pleasures in life to enjoy. Life goes on, and each moment is unique. There's nothing better to heal the soul than a good lady and good wine. I'm sure our dear Lucy will come soon to... console you."

I frowned, as his tone was very cold and suggestive. Lycaon replied to Gray:

"Silence, young Gray. Mourning is sacred, something that despicable beings like you will never understand."