"I've no time before the bird's blood runs out. I'm projecting." Ju Xiang grabs a marker from the drawer and moves across to the counter where the man stands, carefully stealing an egg from its crate and inscribing the word 'Rawn' on it.
The strange man stops whisking a bowl of eggs and peeks at Ju Xiang's handiwork with a chuckle. "Ridiculous. Who the hell bears Rawn? Parents in their right minds don't name their child an alternate version of run."
"This one's parents weren't in their right minds."
"Weren't."
"They're dead. You need not indulge her name if you don't find it pleasing." Ju Xiang tries to wipe the word from the egg before the strange man holds her wrist with the speed of lightening.
"Her?" he asks, earning a nod from Ju Xiang. "Well, now that's interesting. Hope she's a good beauty whose form can be distinguished in my collection of arts."
Ju Xiang glances at a corner of the room, where silicon human parts are laid out on a broad wooden surface.
"This time, there's a twist," she says, placing the egg back in the crate. "I won't tell you where to find her. You do that on your own."
"It'll be fun to find someone with the name 'Rawn'. I may need one more egg to thicken my omelet. Excuse me."
Ju Xiang shifts back, while the strange man regards her, picking the same egg with Rawn's name.
Then he lets it slip from his hand and gasps.
"Oops!" The egg shatters on the floor. "That one just broke. Guess I'll have the omelet how it is, after all."
Ju Xiang smirks. "She smells like rose or lily." Then she turns to leave but stops after catching the sight of an open small door leading into a dim red room. Inside, there's a bleeding, gutted body without head and limbs.
This one isn't silicon. It's a real body, freshly unalived, a female's too.
"That'll soon rot," she spits. "And it'll stink. No one likes an omelet of yikes."
"If only I were no one."
The man strolls toward a huge canvas occupying one of the four walls of the room.
It has a bloody painting of intestines falling out of a lying corpse's exposed bowels, it's presence alone capable on instilling fright in his victims' minds—the kind of feeling he loves to savor.
"I'm not done with this one yet; ran short of blood. I suppose I need a refill," he rumbles on. "Now leave so I may go. After all, what more does a Rhotheli love other than a satisfying hunt of anything soft, fresh, and female?"
Expecting to hear at least one word from Ju Xiang, none comes.
"My love?" He turns around, only to find he's alone. "Wonderful." He huffs a smile that narrows his eyes to a slit.
Charming, isn't he? But also lethal, like a python pretending to be a pet.
~
Lyecan finds out about Rawn's escape long after she was gone.
Barging into Uksean's room, he sees the man standing calmly beside the window, his hands crossed behind him.
Lyecan perceives Rawn's scent on him, even notices the bite wound on his neck.
"What did you do, brother?" he grinds, taking calculated steps toward Uksean.
When he tries to make a rush at him, Uksean slips his right hand from behind his back, along with a pistol.
Four bangs go off shortly before tiny silver bullets sink into Lyecan's abdomen, knees and wrist, bursting an artery.
The Alpha crumbles to the floor with a sluggish groan, lying on his side. The silver in his flesh dissolves fast, spreading through his blood cells and veins, tainting his very supply of energy and nerves.
"Now it's for me to decide whether you should bleed out…" Uksean breathes out, "...and die."
Lyecan chuckles while trying to mind-link with his Beta, but the silver in his blood is too potent to allow that.
"You should know, my people are already searching for Rawn," he chokes out, blood gurgling in his throat. "I've given orders to kill her on spot. Only I can withdraw that order... when I don't die."
Uksean eyes his brother before tucking the pistol away, approaching the Alpha. "No, man," he says, "you won't die, Lyecan. You and I fucking know your silver resistance." He laughs out loud. "In fact, you relish the damn thing."
Uksean stands above his brother's groaning self. With his feet, he nudges the man to lie on his back then places his feet on his neck. "If I wanted you dead, 'brother', you'll be long gone. Enough of the threat to kill Rawn cos you fucking won't. I know it. You know it. She gives you a sense of authority. It's weird, I know. But we Rhothelis love it—the idea of owning. We may have all the riches and power, but that personal dominance that isn't borne out of the victim's will to be used is satisfactory. And so far only Rawn resists. You love her resistance. Hell, you want it. Every other person submits to us without question because, well, we're Rhothelis."
Uksean presses down the feet on Lyecan's neck, forcing out blood from the latter's throat.
His hands form a fists at his sides, his expression tightening with disgust.
Then he grudgingly lets Lyecan go, turning around to walk away before the man stops him.
"I may not have been with you Uksean—you left to be a mercenary way too early as a boy—but I've heard of your works; how you keep these little female trinkets for your pleasure. You said it yourself, 'we Rhothelis'. What changed you?"
Uksean huffs. "Have you ever felt love, brother?" He cranes his neck to the back. "Do you even know what it means?"
"Love?" Lyecan laughs, rasping, "love, brother? That's a huge turn-around from the brutal murderer of innocents and children; the destroyer of families." He coughs out blood. "I mean, you were— are an assassin. Except, a mercenary on paper. You look at me now like I'm a sinner. But I only kill, when necessary, those that betray and challenge me…."
Lyecan rolls to his side again. Then, as he slowly regains his nerves, stands up and stumbles to Uksean. "You, brother," he points a finger at the man, "are a beast; a monster in human flesh, yet you come here... and you PREACH TO ME ABOUT LOVE!?"
Silence toys with the air around them, exuding anger and harsh tension that soon decreases when Uksean lets out a breathe he'd held in for long.
"Even the devil can love," he whispers while turning to his brother.
"And where is that in the scripture?" Lyecan counters. "The devil deceives. He pretends to love but does not. Your sick idea of love wouldn't hold your hungry stomach, dear brother. You'll break down because you and I know you love to see them scream your name as you force pain on them. You love the idea of blood and death, Uksean. That is what you love. The kind of love you think you have, that's not in you. And you'll only realize that when you're standing above Rawn's corpse… with her bleeding heart in your hand."
Uksean gulps down nothing, agitated eyes scanning Lyecan's honest expression.
He doesn't know whether to believe his brother or not. However, what does it matter what Lyecan says?
He alone knows himself—the kind of things he did, even the ones he can do.
Only his faith in change can prove otherwise. Then the real question lies. Does change really exist?
Yes. Maybe? No.
Uksean absentmindedly leaves the room, while Lyecan spits out blood, mumbling, "bastard," before wiping his lips with the back of his palm.
~
Zeonath's eyes longingly embrace a flower as he leans on the wall, his index punching a few things on his phone screen.
He inhales smoke from a cigarette and puffs it out before speaking rather loudly, "Hey, love. What's this game we're playing again, cos it's hell fun. I love it."
"I know, right?" Ju Xiang's voice comes from the phone right after Zeonath puts it on loudspeaker and places it next to the portable flower vase on a small table. "I thought a little twist would suffice instead of having me deliver all the time."
"Hm." The man pushes himself off the wall. "What did you say was her scent again?"
"Uh… Rose? Forgive me, I don't know much of flowers."
"It's lily." Zeonath strolls across the room to the opposite wall. "But you forgot to add mint. I perceive a hint of that."
"What…"
He traces the charcoal illustration of a hibiscus bud on the wooden wall. "You skipped mint. It's faint. My wolf picked it."
"Where are you, Zeonath?"
The man smirks. "The last place you thought I'd look. Only, you were wrong." He takes in the last of his cigarette, letting the smoke loose as he tosses the stick to the floor and stomps it off. "I'm looking at a flower. But when I turn back…" Zeonath twirls around in one swing, gasping, "Oh…"
There lies Rawn in the bed, her slumber peaceful, and wounds completely healed.
"Her sleeping face is exquisite, baby," Zeonath emphasizes with a chuckle. "Her figure? Mm… She's the goddess I've been waiting for to balance my creations; all I'd ever searched for. And, especially, she's a Firne. How fun it will be to dominate a Firne."
"She's weak," Ju Xiang stresses.
But Zeonath can't be convinced. "No, she's not."
He has long imagined what he'll do to her. It's left for her to know. And she will only when she's at the mercy of his craft.