715: Story 715: The Kiss of Ruin 715: Story 715: The Kiss of Ruin The air inside the Rotting Cathedral was thick with the scent of decay.
The candles, arranged in chaotic patterns, flickered as if breathing with the darkness.
Selene stood at the altar, her hood drawn low, shadows curling around her like living tendrils.
Dried blood cracked on her lips, remnants of the last soul she had drained.
Tonight, her work would continue.
The doors groaned open.
A group of hooded figures entered, dragging a prisoner between them—a woman, bruised and shaking, her arms bound in rusted chains.
Selene turned, her silver eyes gleaming.
“Ah, finally.” Her voice slithered through the chamber.
The prisoner, Seraphine Vale, lifted her head.
Despite the pain, her blue eyes burned with defiance.
“You don’t scare .”
Selene’s smile widened.
“Oh, but I should.”
She stepped forward, her presence suffocating.
She traced a cold finger down Seraphine’s cheek, leaving behind a faint stain of crimson.
“Tell , little knight, how does it feel to be hunted instead of the hunter?”
Seraphine didn’t flinch.
“You think this will break ?” she spat.
“Kill , and I swear, my brothers will burn this place to the ground.”
Selene chuckled darkly.
“Kill you?” She leaned in, her lips inches from Seraphine’s ear.
“Oh, sweet thing.
I don’t kill my prey.
I turn them into sothing… better.”
She reached into the pouch at her waist, pulling out a vial of thick, green venom.
“This,” she whispered, “is my gift to you.”
Seraphine’s breath hitched.
Selene uncorked the vial, its foul stench of rot and magic filling the air.
She pressed the vial to Seraphine’s lips.
“Drink.”
Seraphine clenched her jaw.
Selene sighed.
“Always so difficult.”
With a snap of her fingers, the hooded acolytes forced Seraphine’s mouth open.
Selene tilted the vial, letting the viscous liquid slip past Seraphine’s lips.
The knight choked, coughed, struggled—then scread.
The change was imdiate.
Her veins blackened, her eyes clouded over, her body convulsed violently.
Selene watched, her expression one of cruel delight.
Seraphine’s screams turned into ragged gasps, then silence.
Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her pupils were dilated, her skin deathly pale.
Selene gently cupped her face.
“How do you feel, my dear?”
Seraphine’s lips curled into a slow, eerie smile.
“Stronger.”
Selene’s grin widened.
“Good.”
She leaned in, pressing a bloodstained kiss to Seraphine’s forehead.
“Welco ho.”
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