novelraw Chapter 89 89: Red drinks (1)
Chapter 89 89: Red drinks (1)
If there had been even a shred of relief among the women about becoming the scavenger's sex slaves, that illusion shattered.
It died the moment Ricu's blade slit through one of their throats without hesitation.
One of the chosen.
One breath she was alive.
The next she was bleeding out at his feet.
No remorse.
No flicker of emotion.
Not even annoyance.
It was not like killing a fly.
At least when someone kills a fly, there is irritation.
This was worse.
It was as if she had never been anything at all.
The chamber erupted into panic. Bodies trembling. Breath hitching. Some stepped back. Some collapsed to their knees.
All except two.
One woman who had long ago surrendered to despair, waiting for her turn to finally come so she could leave this cruel world behind.
And Selene.
Selene stood still.
Her gaze locked onto Ricu like a blade.
He could kill her at any second.
She did not care.
Ricu was one of her hottest targets.
He was not the one who delivered the killing blow to Rayden.
But he had stood there.
He had allowed it.
She hated him second only to poto.
He had killed Siso in cold blood. It had not been long since she knew that man, but his death had still cut deep. And Selene knew this man had something worse planned for her and Callack. That was the only reason he dragged them here to begin with.
And now he was offering her up to the Lord.
Whatever happened in that chamber was not pleasure.
It was not indulgence.
It was something darker.
That was why he was in a hurry.
Fine.
Selene inhaled slowly.
Exhaled.
Then she stepped forward and joined the line of selected women.
"Let's go," she said.
Ricu nodded faintly.
Selene glanced once at the corpse on the floor. Her expression did not change.
Then she spoke again, calm and cold.
"You should not have done something so stupid. If you wanted me to join them, you could have just told her to leave."
Ricu's fingers twitched.
For a split second, he truly wanted to slice her head off.
Even now.
Even with nothing left.
She still dared to speak like this.
That same amused smile remained on his face.
"I merely cleared an obstacle from your path," he replied lightly. "Shouldn't you thank me for giving you a place instead of actively seeking your death?"
Selene did not answer immediately.
She looked straight into his eyes.
Held his gaze.
Unblinking.
Then she said, "Are you saying that to prove I am more valuable than your Lord? The one you serve?"
The twin sister's expression shifted instantly. Her eyes turned sharp with killing intent.
"Do not dare belittle the Lord," she said, her tone cold enough to freeze bone. "Or you lose your life here."
The pressure in the room thickened.
Most would have trembled.
Selene smiled.
No warmth in it.
"I am not the one belittling your Lord," she replied. "Tell me. What would happen if he found out that you killed one of his toys just to make space for me?"
Her eyes never left Ricu's.
"You are the one reducing his options. Useful or not, she was his. That means you acted without respect."
Ricu's pupils flashed red.
"You bitch."
He was not angry because her words were true.
He was angry because if the Lord heard them and decided Ricu had overstepped, had acted without worth…
He would be finished.
The Lord might appear indifferent to slaves and lower ranks.
But those at the top knew better.
They knew how cruel he truly was.
They knew how absurdly powerful he was.
They knew what happened to those who disappointed him.
If the Lord wanted all of them dead, it would take him a second.
That was the kind of power he held.
Power paired with a cruel nature.
That combination was enough to make even the top brass tremble when standing before him. They feared him more than they feared death itself.
And yet this woman dared to speak like that.
Ricu almost laughed.
She would not get the Lord to kill him. No. The moment she stepped into that chamber, she would forget all this boldness. She would shake. She would break. Just like every proud woman before her.
Imagining that shattered look in her eyes calmed him.
He forced himself to smile warmly at Selene.
"Feel free to tell the Lord if you can," he said lightly. "But I am quite certain he does not concern himself with lowly slaves like you."
He leaned closer. His breath brushed her ear.
"You should worry about surviving what is coming."
He paused.
None ever last past it.
"Let's go," Ricu said aloud.
The selected women were led out.
The rest of the chamber remained frozen for a long second.
Then, as soon as the doors shut, the women who were left behind collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Some covered their mouths. Some stared blankly ahead.
They did not know whether to cry or run.
Moments ago, they still clung to some illusion of safety.
Now they understood.
They were all going to die.
Whether by the scavengers. The top brass. Or whatever the Lord was doing to those taken to his chamber.
In one word.
Trouble.
Big trouble.
What they did not know was just how deep that trouble went.
Selene and the chosen women walked through the long stone hallway toward the scavenger leader's chamber.
The torches flickered along the damp walls.
Ricu hummed a faint melody under his breath, the only sound cutting through the suffocating silence.
Selene's face remained calm.
But her thoughts were sharp.
She had confirmed it now.
Even the top brass feared their Lord.
When she hinted that Ricu might be disrespecting him, it was faint. Almost invisible. But his eyes had changed.
There had been fear there.
No.
Not fear.
Terror.
He was terrified of the very Lord he served.
Which meant one thing.
The scavenger leader was far more dangerous than she initially believed.
Selene's eyes narrowed slightly.
She would need to adjust her plan.
But the goal remained the same.
She would kill him.
She must kill him.
The group reached the massive doors.
They opened with a heavy groan.
Ricu and his twin sister stopped at the entrance.
Neither of them stepped inside.
They did not dare.
The doors shut behind the trembling women.
Selene noticed that.
Even they would not enter.
Interesting.
The air inside the chamber felt wrong.
Off.
Lightly suffocating.
As if the room itself was breathing.
Selene slowly turned her body to face whatever awaited them.
The other women followed her movement, expecting the worst.
A grotesque monster.
A beast that fed on souls and mangled flesh.
Something inhuman.
Instead.
A young man sat comfortably in a large chair.
A book rested in his hands.
He was reading.
A glass of red wine sat on a table beside him. He lifted it calmly, took a sip, then placed it down.
Normal.
Too normal.
As if this were a quiet evening in a noble's manor.
Then he closed the book.
Lifted his gaze.
Several of the women froze.
His face was devastatingly handsome. Late twenties, perhaps early thirties. Perfect features. Calm eyes. Refined presence.
Beautiful.
Almost unreal.
He did not look like a monster.
He looked like a scholar.
A noble.
A man who belonged in sunlight, not in this den of savages.
They stared.
Drank him in with their eyes.
So this was the leader of the scavengers.
This was the monster they had whispered about in the dark.
He looked nothing like what they had imagined.
No scars. No twisted grin. No hulking frame drenched in brutality.
He looked less like a villain and more like something carved by the gods.
An angel.
The man surveyed them once, slow and clinical. Then he spoke.
His voice was refined. Cool. Smooth as silk sliding over skin.
What came out of his mouth was anything but.
"So you are the next batch."
His eyes flicked lazily across the trembling women.
"A few of you look like you will break in seconds." His lips curved faintly. "I hate weak willed women."
Silence.
Heavy.
"Most of you will not even be suitable to help me." He sighed softly, almost bored. "I suppose the prettier ones will be used in my bed."
A pause.
"The rest will serve as my drinks."
He said it casually.
Like he was discussing the weather.
Then he lifted the glass beside him and took a slow sip, eyes already drifting back to his book as if they were no longer worth his attention.
Several of the women looked confused.
Some did not understand.
Some refused to.
But Selene understood.
From the moment she stepped into this chamber, she knew something was wrong. Not just dangerous.
Wrong.
The air was suffocating. Heavy. It pressed against her lungs. Her skin prickled. The fine hairs along her arms had risen the instant his gaze locked onto hers.
That gaze.
Cold.
Ancient.
Hungry.
His words replayed in her mind.
Drinks.
Her eyes moved slowly to the glass in his hand.
Red.
Too red.
Thick.
Not wine.
Her gaze shifted further.
And then she saw them.
Rows.
Dozens.
No.
Hundreds of white bottles lining the wall beside the drinking table.
Each one filled to the brim with red liquid.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
Her throat tightened.
That was not wine.
That was not some rare liquor.
It was blood.
Human blood.
Selene's fingers curled slightly at her sides.
He is drinking humans.
No.
He is drinking their blood.
Her breath hitched, barely audible.
Her voice came out low. Controlled. But there was steel under it.
"Do not tell me…" she said quietly, eyes fixed on the endless rows of bottles, "that all of those are filled with human blood."
The room went still.
To be continued.
Author's Note:
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