Good Little Witch

Part 2

It's a dank as fuck castle as you've ever seen one.
You frown up at the building in front of you, your arms crossed as you wait for Angelo to get out of the car, his hellhounds flanking him like bodyguards.
You send them a distrustful look, hoping they don't rile your sinuses up until you're miserable; you're trying to stay as far away from them as possible.
"Let's go," Angelo urges you along the stone walkway, and you reluctantly start forward.
"I thought you said this wasn't going to be a dank ass castle," you grumble as you walk past crumbled architecture, holding yourself against the cold of the area. The moon is bright, but it's hidden behind foggy clouds, and you don't like how quiet, how still everything is.
There's an aura here you don't like, and you know it has to do with Angelo. He's a demon, you can't expect one of his homes to be overflowing with rainbows or unicorns, but you don't like the way your skin is crawling either.
You hope you're not getting yourself into something you can't get out of.
"You insult my home before you even see it." Angelo sniffs, pretending to be insulted.
"I can see it just fine."
Angelo twitches slightly; he can tell your attitude is going to be an issue, he doesn't appreciate the insolence. Maybe one of your conditions won't involve him not being able to touch you.
Once you make a deal with him, there's no getting out of it or changing the terms.
You walk up the crumbling steps, the doors opening before you ever reach them.
Well.
At least he decorates the interior better then he does his lawn.
You glance around, not surprised at the black drapes hanging along the stone walls, although the red carpet is a nice touch.
It looks more like a castle turned hotel in your opinion, lots of furniture and art work, completely void of people however.
There's not any noise either.
It's creepy.
"This way," Angelo motions, and you follow him towards the large, grand staircase, glancing at the statues of gargoyles at the foot.
Their eyes are following you, you just know it.
"I will have a contract drawn up for tonight," Angelo tells you, not bothering to glance back at you. "In it I will have my needs and what I want from you. It's then we can argue your terms."
He already knows he's not going to like them.
"Alright."
"If there's anything you need, ring the bell in your room and one of the dogs will come. Tell them and they'll do their best to get it."
"One of the dogs?"
"Yes. One of my hounds," he gestures. "They're hellhounds, surely you know what that is."
"Of course I do. I just didn't believe all the stories. Is there not anyone else?"
"No. We are the only two people here."
"In this huge castle?"
"Yes."
That's not comforting.
What if he goes all demon spawn on you or something?
"Why can't we sign a contract tonight?" You ask, tightening your hold on the bag at your side; you don't have much, maybe another two changes of clothes and then your spellbooks.
Being on the run made it impossible to have a lot of things; just the clothes you could carry, a pair of shoes that have seen better days, and you didn't even want to think about how hard it is to even do laundry.
It isn't fun.
"Because I must have it drawn up," Angelo glances at you as you brazenly fall into step with him, no longer following. "And it's too near the day, I must rest."
"Right. Because vampires hate the sun."
"I'm no vampire, although I do enjoy the taste of blood." He shrugs. "Yours included; your magic gives you a nice spice that the humans don't have, only exclusive to you."
"And when have you ever tasted my blood?"
"The night I fucked you senseless."
You go bright crimson, the memories rushing back on their own all over again.
Well.
Um.
You forgot that part.
Angelo chuckles, finally pausing after turning down so many hallways you've lost count. He motions at a rather dubious looking door.
"This will be your room for the duration of your stay here. Make a list of what you need and I'll see it gets taken care of."
"So tomorrow night then?"
"Yes."
Fine.
You suppose some decent sleep won't hurt, it's been eight years since you've gotten a night of rest where you didn't have one eye open.
You glance one last time at Angelo before walking towards the room, hoping it isn't an entrance to the dungeons or something.
You have to admit you're relieved when it actually is just a bedroom. You glance back uncomfortably as the door closes behind you, but you don't hear any locks click. So he's not holding you prisoner just yet.
You sigh, turning to look around the room.
It's nicer then you expected.
the bed is large, four posts with a canopy above and curtains to draw around, just like you'd expect to have in a castle. Unlike the entrance, this room is decorated in reds and golds, looking fit for royalty.
Did the demon kill the royalty to get it? Probably.
Luckily not all of it is medieval, the bathroom is very modern, with a large claw foot tub and a standing shower complete with foggy glass doors, red towels hanging ready for use.
There's a double sink with a mirror running along its length, lights decorating the top that are quite blinding when turned on, and plenty of cabinet space.
Well, demons provide well for their guests apparently. You glance again at the large tub; you haven't had a long soak in ages, you wouldn't mind one before going to bed.
Although really you'd like food more, you're absolutely starving.
You step back into the bedroom, wandering over to the bed. There's a trunk at the end, filled with a few extra blankets and pillows, all soft to the touch. The wardrobe in the corner is empty, and you've never seen an actual changing screen in person before. There's a table near the large windows hidden behind curtains, four chairs circling it, and large rugs cover the floor to help fight the chill of the stone.
There's even a fireplace, although it doesn't look like it's been used in a while.
It's like having your own little hotel room.
Nice.
Your eyes find the bell Angelo mentioned sitting on the nightstand, and you wander to it curiously.
Tell the dogs?
What on earth could that mean?
You pause as you hear a knock on the door, your eyes flicking over nervously. After a moment you trail to it, reluctantly opening it.
Damn.
You lean back on your heels, gazing up at the bald man as broad as the doorway looking down at you with beady eyes. He's merely holding a silver tray in front of him, and he doesn't say a word as he presents it to you.
You take it, and just look at him; is he not going to speak?
Apparently not.
The man turns on his heels, walking stiffly down the hallway, and you watch him go, the warmth of the tray seeping into your hands.
You thought Angelo had said there were no other people in his dank castle.
Odd.
You turn, kicking the door shut behind you. You set the tray on the mahogany table, lifting the dome lid up curiously.
Your mouth immediately waters.
Food!
It smells amazing!
You pick up the little note card, opening it up.