NOVEL WEB Chapter 4: ... The Dark Messiah
Serena's polished heels clacked sharply against the marble floor, each step echoing through the silent chamber. Flickering torchlight caught the sheen of her obsidian cloak, casting a shifting, predatory silhouette across the scattered debris. Her gaze, cold and intent, never left the far corner, where the faint scrape of furniture had betrayed someone's presence.
Without breaking her stride, she extended a single hand. Black energy rippled along her arm; with a precise flick of her wrist, a massive oak desk—the last barrier between her and her quarry—skidded across the chamber floor. Screeching wood and splintering legs tore through the hush. Papers flew up in a wild flurry, some torn by the sheer force of the impact.
Huddled behind the uprooted desk was a young man, perhaps in his early twenties. An aura of tense defiance radiated from him, even though he trembled. His short, disheveled hair fell across a brow slick with sweat. Loose-fitting courtly garb in tattered teal clung to his thin frame, the fabric darkened with grime and fear.
Yet there was a flash of bold hatred in his eyes. He glared up at Serena with a mix of terror and raw fury, chest heaving as he fought to steady his breathing. Despite every survival instinct screaming at him to bolt, he held his ground. In that moment, the two of them—Dark Messiah and cornered prey—were locked in a silent standoff under the flickering lights of the devastated hall.
Serena's cold gaze locked onto the young man crouched at her feet, and the corners of her lips curled into a chilling hint of a smile. "Someone must not know whose presence he's in," she said, her voice soft yet laced with menace.
Before he could scramble away, she lunged forward and seized him by the throat. The sudden rush of movement sent loose papers fluttering around them like panicked birds. He gasped, desperately clawing at her slender forearm, but her grip remained implacable—steady as stone.
"Let… go!" he rasped, eyes bulging with a mix of fury and terror. His feet kicked frantically at the air, scraping for some semblance of balance. Sputtering, he gathered what little courage he had and spat right at her face in sheer defiance. The spittle struck her cheek, dripping down her jawline.
Serena's eyes narrowed to slits, a slow exhalation hissing between her teeth. The muscles in her arm tensed, and her grip tightened. "You dare…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but laced with a lethality that made the chamber's very air feel heavier.
The young man's hands flew to her wrist, nails biting into her pale skin as he fought for any chance to breathe. In a last-ditch effort, he rammed his knee into Serena's stomach. A hollow thud echoed in the silent hall—followed immediately by his strangled cry of pain. It felt as though he'd driven his kneecap into solid granite. Despite her slender frame, she was monstrously strong, and the impact only seemed to jar him more than it did her.
"I told you," she said, her voice a low hiss, "you're standing before a power far greater than your petulant wrath."
He tried to respond, but only a strained wheeze emerged as he found himself lifted higher, toes barely brushing the marble floor. His face reddened, and his eyes brimmed with a hatred he could no longer give voice to.
Serena tilted her head, crimson strands of hair falling across her face. "You have two choices: beg for mercy… or struggle until your final breath."
His jaw clenched in defiance, but no sound passed his lips—his windpipe all but crushed in her iron hold. In that tense silence, torches crackled overhead, their flames painting the scene in flickering gold and shadows. All around them lay the aftermath of her brutal demonstration of power—blood-splattered marble, shattered furniture, toppled chairs. Now there was only the unstoppable force that was Serena, and the lone victim who'd dared to spit in the face of a Dark Messiah.
Serena felt the young man's knee connect with her abdomen again, sending another jolt through her body. The dull thud of impact was followed by a wet splatter against her dark garments—his own blood, seeping from raw scrapes on his kneecap where he'd hammered against what felt like a granite slab. His strangled grunt of pain only fueled his resolve; still he fought, still he tried to lash out despite the torment wracking his frame.
A snarl twisted her lips as she tightened her grip around his throat, fingers pressing inward until the cords of his neck stood out. "Defiant to the end, huh?" she hissed, brows knitting with a cold sort of displeasure. Even in his desperation, he summoned enough spite to spit at her face again, the warm flecks landing on her cheek.
His bloodshot eyes glared with furious defiance, refusing to dim. Then a curious warmth flickered in her core—a strange tingle, like a surge of electricity dancing just beneath her skin. It thrummed in time with his weakening pulse, an odd wave of euphoria that made her heart pound.
"Great Sage…" she asked through clenched teeth, eyes narrowing. "What is this feeling?"
The orb's voice pulsed calmly in her mind:
"Excitement. The desperate struggle of your victim triggers a surge in your aura—a vital power move for one who draws sustenance from fear and defiance. You derive heightened force from the act."
She felt the man's grip on her forearm weakening. His face had gone an ugly shade of crimson, and his eyelids fluttered. Just when he began to lose consciousness, Serena loosened her hand slightly, allowing a few ragged gulps of air into his lungs. He gasped in shaky relief, spots dancing in front of his eyes—only to have the reprieve snatched away as she squeezed again.
"Keep looking at me," she commanded, her tone colder than marble. The young man let out a muffled wheeze, but still he glared, hatred fueling his every labored breath. Again and again, she walked the razor's edge between suffocation and awareness—tightening her hold until his eyes rolled back, then loosening just enough to keep him conscious. Every fitful knee to her midsection only brought him more pain, a dull crunch as bruised bone met immovable flesh.
Serena's lips curled in dark satisfaction. She felt her power swell with each fleeting second of his struggle, that tantalizing tingle now a steady charge coursing through her veins. In the shadows cast by sputtering torches, the dance of predator and prey continued—a vicious demonstration of what it meant to face the Dark Messiah in open defiance, and the lengths to which she was willing to go to maintain absolute control.
Thought for a second
Serena yanked him forward by the collar, dragging the young man's face so close to hers that their breaths collided in tense, ragged waves. His cheeks were flushed with both pain and ire; rivulets of sweat trickled down to his jaw, dripping onto her gauntlet. She tilted her head, a predatory gleam in her crimson eyes.
"Tell me…" she purred, her voice smooth as dark silk. "Do you hate me?"
He gagged, still half-dazed from the last round of suffocation. His veins stood out like cords on his neck as he fought to muster even a sliver of breath. But somehow, from the depths of his torment, he found the strength to rasp through clenched teeth.
"You… a-are… a monster."
A low, menacing laugh escaped her lips. "A monster?" She traced a gloved finger along his jaw, ignoring the trickle of blood staining the edges of her gauntlet. "Then be very sure, dear little mortal, that you realize whose claws you're in."
He coughed, eyes flickering back and forth in half-conscious disorientation. The next moment, her fingers around his throat tightened again, just enough to cut off a good portion of his airflow. His eyelids fluttered; he teetered on the brink of oblivion.
"Answer me," she hissed. "Do you hate me?"
She relaxed her grip, letting him suck in a ragged lungful of air. A wet choke rattled in his chest, his head lolling to the side. Through his labored breathing, he managed to choke out a single word.
"Y-yes…"
"Yes—what?" she demanded, leaning in until their noses practically touched.
His gaze snapped up, hatred burning in his eyes despite the glaze of near-suffocation. "Yes, I hate you!"
A wicked smile curved across her face as she took his chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look into her blazing scarlet eyes. "That's better." Then, in a disconcertingly gentle move, she loosened her hold around his neck and wiped some spittle from his chin with her thumb. "You speak so boldly. I wonder if you have any idea how powerless you really are."
He drew a shuddering breath, eyes darting to the carnage around them—splintered furniture, smoldering torchlight, and the bloodstains on her dark garments. "You'll… p-pay for this…"
Serena snorted, gripping the back of his hair and tugging just enough to arch his neck painfully. "Pay?" She twisted his head to make sure he saw the broken remains of the lord's desk and the empty chairs where officials once sat. "Look around you. I've already paid in full."
He tried, futilely, to wrench away, hands pushing against her shoulders with what remained of his strength. Another hitch in his breath and the world dimmed at the edges of his vision.
She felt the shift immediately. "Oh, no. You're not passing out on me again," she chided, slapping the side of his face with enough force to sting but not enough to knock him out. "You still have a part to play in my little game."
He sputtered, eyes rolling from the blow. With every gulp for air, his ribcage heaved, scraping against her imprisoning hand. "I… d-don't…" He gulped as if swallowing broken glass. "I don't care who you are. Y-you… you won't break me."
She let out a low chuckle, dangerously close to his ear now. "You think I'm trying to break you?" Her voice dropped, almost a whisper, saturated with a mocking sort of amusement. "My dear boy… I intend to see just how long you'll hold onto that precious hatred of yours."
His breathing quickened, each ragged exhale laced with pain and fury. For a fleeting moment, a spark of defiance lit his eyes again. "A-and if I never give in?"
Serena's grin widened, cold and satisfied. "Well then, that makes you interesting, doesn't it?" She leaned in so close that he could see the faint pulse in her temple. "And that might just entertain me enough… to keep you alive."
She suddenly released him, letting him slump to the ground in a sweaty, coughing heap. The taste of freedom lasted only seconds before she nudged him in the ribs with her boot.
"But make no mistake," she added, voice echoing through the chamber, "if I tire of your defiance, you'll be devoured like the rest."
He glared, jaw clenched, still struggling for breath. Despite the terror visibly coursing through him, he managed to choke out, "S-so be it… monster."
"Monster…" she repeated with mocking relish, eyes shining like embers. "Hate me if you must… Just don't take too long making yourself useful."
And with that, she straightened, turning on her heel with an imperious sweep of her obsidian cloak, leaving the young man half-collapsed, bound by agony and hatred—both of which, she knew, would serve her well.
Serena lounged on the throne like a queen long accustomed to ruling, her cheek propped against a closed fist. The finery of the hall lay in disarray around her—splintered remnants of the old lord's regime scattered alongside fresh signs of her new dominion. At her feet knelt the young man she'd so violently subdued, his wrists shackled and chained to the massive dais. Even in his silent obedience, his eyes brimmed with implacable hatred. A small, satisfied smile curved Serena's lips each time their gazes met.
She tilted her head, allowing a soft glow to pulse in the corner of her vision. "Great Sage," she said in a low murmur, "what do you suggest for my next move? Also, who exactly is my new pet?"
The orb's voice replied, calm and measured.
"He is the former lord's son. As for your next move: claim this city publicly. Establish your authority beyond contestation. Use your power as the Dark Messiah to advance Celestafell's prosperity… by any means necessary. And, for political stability," the Great Sage's tone carried a hint of dry finality, "announce your marriage to him. It will bind his lineage and influence to you, dispelling any lingering opposition."
Serena's crimson eyes glinted with perverse delight as she shifted her gaze to the bound young noble. "Announce my marriage, hmm…" She let the words linger in the air, savoring the shock that rippled through him when he realized what was being said. A dangerous smile, dripping with amusement, curved across her lips. "Yes," she murmured softly, "I do think that's a splendid idea."