Jules watched as the heavy doors closed before his eyes, a loud thud intermingling with Balthazar's laughter. The last thing he saw was his sister's horrified face, and the bright blue sky behind her.
"You're not going out!" the vampire cackled. "I'm not letting either of you leave! Never!"
A sigh escaped Jules as he leaned against Bastien, who had swooped in to catch him. The moment Jules had tried to cross over to the outside world, an invisible force yanked him back. A foot was fine. His whole body? No, that was not allowed.
"Are you alright?"
The incubus's worried voice echoed amid the cacophony of Balthazar's giggles. Jules lifted his eyes to meet his, offering the demon a quirked eyebrow. Why wouldn't he be alright? If anything, it had been a while since he felt this invigorated.
His sister and her friends were out. They were safe and sound, and all the stress that had been haunting his nerves, stretching them taut, suddenly vanished. In an instant, he relaxed in the demon's arms, his body growing limp.
Annabelle would be alright, and he couldn't be any happier.
As for them being stuck in this hellhole? Well, it didn't matter. The hunter was confident neither he nor Bastien would die, although he wasn't so sure about escaping in one piece.
"So?" Bastien smiled, seemingly aware of the thoughts crossing his mind. "What do we do now? I don't know for you, but I've got plenty of time to kill."
"I imagine I do, too."
Now that the seal on his soul had been broken, Jules could never fully revert to his former self, a mere human being. He already could tell his lifespan was bound to be a little longer than the average human's. He could feel his spiritual energy already altering the natural aging of his human body, freezing it in time.
—Yes, he knew: he would never grow old. Whether that was a curse or a blessing… It was hard to say.
But that meant, no matter how long it took for them to find a way out of this hell, Jules wouldn't have changed much in his family's eyes, at least physically. Since time and space were distorted, it was hard to tell how much time would pass by on the other side. Hopefully, it'd be nothing more than a few minutes.
The incubus, ever-so insightful, spoke up, answering the unsaid question, "Earlier, I managed to get an idea of the difference in the time flow between this place and reality."
"And?"
"One minute in our original world is about one year here. I don't know how long it'll take for your colleagues to reach the amusement park, but I've got a hunch we're in for one hell of a time."
"I guess we either wait for a century to pass, or find the mastermind behind this hellhole and get out on our own."
"Or we can always threaten Balthazar," Bastien winked, his smile playful despite the words that were coming out of his mouth. "Even if he's stubborn, I'm pretty sure a few decades of torture will eventually wear him out."
"Really?" Jules rolled his eyes, gesturing to the vampire with a tilt of his head.
The man was lying on the floor in a strange position, his body appearing almost disarticulated, thanks to Jules dropping him after being dragged back inside the haunted house.
On top of the unnatural arrangement his limbs were positioned in, a mad expression was contorting his face into a grotesque grimace, erasing any kind of elegance he previously had.
"Tell me, does he look like someone who can be reasoned with?"
"No," the demon clicked his tongue. "It doesn't mean I can't vent my frustration on him, though. I wouldn't say no to blowing up some steam."
"Uh-huh."
Alright, now what?
Their only lead was the madman before them, and Jules had a hunch Balthazar wasn't in a very cooperative mood. On the bright side, he didn't seem to know much about the owner of this place, so it wasn't a big loss.
But he did seem to know the place inside out, making him the perfect guide, minus the crazy personality.
"Question for you," Jules asked, staring at the vampire while still comfortably leaning against the demon's chest, "what's the point of trapping us inside when Bastien and I are both beings who aren't even that easy to deal with? I hope you realize we've been careful up to now only because we had charges to protect."
Jules paused to offer a cold smile.
"Now, these charges are gone."
The cackling suddenly stopped.
Silence stretched.
Then, realization seemed to strike as the vampire stared at the two beings before him, his crimson eyes slowly widening.
Bastien was very happily snuggling against Jules, his arms wrapped around his waist to keep him in a tight embrace. As for the angel, he was lazily leaning against the demon, no sign of urgency showing on his face. Unlike before, he appeared laid-back, unhurried, and unbothered.
Neither seemed anxious.
Both appeared not to care.
Bastien propped his chin on the hunter's head, very slowly pronouncing each word, "Balthazar, are you sure we're the ones who are trapped with you, and it's not actually you who's trapped with us?"
It was a simple question, but it carried a myriad of meanings, for it only now dawned upon Balthazar that these two were also monsters, otherworldly beings that, once freed from their shackles, were to be feared.
***
Balthazar's heart skipped a beat as a crashing sound resounded. His body might be able to move on its own now, albeit sluggishly, but he didn't dare to even flinch—at any rate, Jules would soon slash his flesh yet again, and render him immobile for the nth time. He still couldn't wrap his mind around how he did it, but it didn't really matter anymore.
For now, his eyes took in the sight playing before him: Jules was cutting a herd of banshees to shreds, an unimpressed expression plastered on his face.
Unlike when they fought, there was no hesitation, no pondering; only a predatory instinct that guided each and every one of his moves.
"Surprised?" Bastien hummed, side-glancing the vampire with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Jules could have won against you without my help, but the thing is, he had to be careful back then. If his instinct got the better of him while our little protégés were in the same room as us, well… I guess we wouldn't have any more protégés to protect. Even I can't win against him if he loses it."
"That doesn't make…"
"Any sense?"
The demon shrugged, shifting his gaze back to the hunter. Now that his sister and her friends were gone, he had no claims whatsoever about going on a rampage. Even if his bloodlust were to get the better of him, the only beings that would pay the price of it would be those trapped alongside him in this hellhole. Bastien might not necessarily be able to win, mostly because he wouldn't want to hurt the half-archangel, but he was confident in his ability to calm him down. He had done it once, and he certainly wouldn't mind doing it twice.
Shrill wailings echoed throughout the corridor, almost bursting his eardrums. Banshees' cries were usually impossible to bear. They messed up both people's ears and brains, yet Jules didn't seem to hear them at all, his sword beheading the first unlucky one to cross his path as he moved forward.
In a way, it was fascinating to watch.
And maybe a little exciting, too.
The incubus shook his head, chasing away the intrusive thoughts. No matter how beautiful Jules looked as he fought, he should still stop him whenever his sanity was about to bid him farewell.
"Jules, time-out!" Bastien screamed, waving at the hunter to draw his attention. "We're switching!"
His response was a glare. Ah, darn, his humanity was slipping away again. His angelic lineage was gnawing at it more and more, now that he wasn't careful with restraining himself.
In the end, the longer they stayed in this hellhole, the quicker his personality would change and vanish, swallowed by the void lurking inside him.
Bastien wasn't sure Jules had noticed yet.
It had already been a few days since the doors closed in their faces, and Jules was refusing to take a breather. All he did was slash at monsters, over and over again. They had made up their mind to throw the haunted house upside-down until the owner showed itself, but who knew when that would happen, if it ever did. That thing, if feeling threatened, might also go into hiding instead of confronting them, and simply wait for the storm to pass.
"I'm fine," Jules said in an even voice.
"No, you're not," Bastien shook his head. "Remember? I call the shots. We're switching."
The hunter squinted, visibly unhappy. Still, he obeyed, because that was what they had agreed upon. Unlike him, Bastien wasn't having his mind overturned by some unfeeling emotion. The only thing messing with his brain was that constant arousal of his, but he was still level-headed enough to know when to stop.
Jules slashed the air to get the blood off his blade, threw one last glance at a trembling banshee, and walked to Bastien in that low, unhurried pace of his.
The moment Bastien was at arm's reach, he grabbed his collar and pressed his mouth against his, forcefully transferring over the overflowing spiritual energy wrecking havoc inside of him. It had the merit of feeding the incubus while alleviating the numbness assaulting his senses and dulling his feelings and emotions.
"You're getting more and more violent with your kisses," Bastien teased, licking the man's upper lip. "Are you trying to burst my lips?"
"Maybe?"
Still, the incubus didn't run away and took in all the excess spiritual energy ravaging the hunter, savoring every mouthful. The more Jules was losing his mind, the more delightful his spiritual energy and life force were becoming.
But that might be better left unsaid.