The Devil Wore My Name

III. VENOM VIOLET

Zeph's heels echoed across the hallways of the Gothom mansion. His right hand was clasping hard on the sealed envelope with the intel that he barely got out of the ruins of Demon's Den.

Just as Lord Crane had asked, it was almost like nothing happened; there were no police, no investigators. Zeph went through hell to keep the word from reaching the higher-ups and headlines of the news.

An incident this big…he has no idea what their reaction would be. The greatest summoning ritual that they have ever planned went down the drain. Not only that, but also, there was a chance that what they sought was now in the hands of someone else.

Someone else got the devil.

"A kid for fuck's sake," Zeph cursed under his breath.

The remainder of the list of names that he recovered from the CCTV system. He jolted in front of the large double door at the far end of the hallway. He knocked on the thick, dark wood and waited for permission to enter. Once he heard the rough voice of Lord Crane, he went in.

"Greeting…"

"Get to the point," Crane interrupted, not taking his eyes off the pile of papers in his hand.

His rectangular face was tired from the long night that had passed over him as he took care of the mess that his younger brother had made. Yet his thick beard was still cleanly cut on his face, and he was radiating the muscularity of the Gothom family

 "Did you find anything?"

"Yes, My Lord," Zeph stated, covering the distance between him and Crane in long, steady steps before placing the sealed envelope on his desk.

"This is a list of people who made it out of the basement."

The words finally got Crane to lift his eyes off the pile of paper and pay attention to Zeph.

"It was confirmed that all the members are dead…all of them were eaten up by the flames. How is that possible?" Crane uttered darkly, narrowing his eyes at Zeph.

"They weren't part of the organization, My Lord," Zeph cut in before he was flooded with another thousand questions.

"It was confirmed by the two guards. Two boys walked into the basement. They thought they were one of the usual guests who come in every now and then."

Zeph noticed Crane's eyebrows flinch at the unexpected news. Everyone was supposed to be dead…but there are unexpected survivors.

Crane was reaching that realization, and fast. Crane wasted no time and pulled out the two papers from inside the envelope.

"Christopher Anderson?" Crane tested the name. "You mean the Anderson family?" He frowned. Why would a political family like the Andersons interfere with him?

"He is the adopted son, My Lord," Zeph corrected. "It was during that trend that Nobles took in commoners as a sign of their equality." The words were nothing less than mocking of the stupidity of Anderson. An act that nobody swallowed, yet they pretended not to see.

"He is out of the question then," Crane said as he tossed the paper over. "He couldn't risk being on the bad side of the Andersons."

"Who do we have here?" He added, his eyes fell on the picture of the unusual fella on the last paper in his hand, one of his eyebrows was raised as he took in the bi-color of the boy, along with his pale hair that was barely visible from the white of the paper.

"An Elf came to the ritual," Crane puzzled as he raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know that they were interested in demon rituals these days." His tone was sarcastic, somehow finding the time to joke.

"He isn't an elf, My Lord," Zeph corrected. "He is a human. No elf would walk in the human world looking like that; they are shapeshifters, they could spare themselves the unwanted attention."

A moment of silence went over them both. "If these two were indeed in there, then there are two explanations. Either both of them weren't in there, or one was while the other wasn't. The one who was inside definitely got Orathon."

His voice almost cracked at the mention of the name; the possibility of that happening was something that he didn't even want to imagine.

"Find him," Crane added. "If he is the one…wipe him out before he figures what has gotten inside him."

~~~~

"RICK!" Joanna yelled from the kitchen. "Come on, breakfast is ready! We are late for school!"

Rick half-smiled. The only way to get his sister to make them breakfast is to end up in the hospital. Instead of replying, he walked out of his room to the living room. In the center of their small apartment, he saw his mother sitting on the armchair by the window, knitting yet another scarf or sweater for him or his sister to wear when winter is upon them.

He went over silently to place a kiss on top of his mother's head. He felt her warm hands pat him on the back as he did. The thought that he was on the brink of leaving them both alone was eating him like cancer.

"Good morning, love," his mother whispered in his ears as he drew back.

He returned the smile, but it was soon gone as the reporters on the TV caught his attention. "Cosmos breaks another door as it launches the long-awaited Bio-Pharmaceutical branch," the woman stated from the screen.

Elfric scoffed as he turned it off. The last thing that he needed was some Noble bastard's company ruining him further.

"They won't stop till they take over the world," he mumbled as he took a seat next to his mother. "Let them come see how the rest of the world here lives."

By here, he meant the slums where the commoner lives. Back in the old days, London was a beautiful city, that's what he had read in the history books. Now, it was nothing better than sewers where commoners like him lived. Now, the beautiful city is the city of Lauxdale. To the likes of them, it was like heaven they couldn't reach.

"I shall heed thy call,"

Elfric's head jolted up and turned to look at his sister, who was busy going through her phone as she stuffed her face with cereal – yes, the breakfast that she spent 30 full minutes making was a bowl of cereal. That definitely wasn't her.

Joanna hasn't been with him there that night, and there was no way that his sister's voice was that dark.

Was he finally losing his mind from all the stress that he had been building up all this time? Did the anxiety finally get to his head?

"Let's go, Joanna," Elfric stated as he pushed his chair back. "We are late."

"Hey, wait!" Joanna exclaimed as she stuffed her face with the last two bites of her meal. She watched her brother's broad shoulder spread as he tied his hair in a ponytail away from his face. Unlike him, she was as normal as normal could be.

Brown hair, honey eyes, and small features that she took from her mother. She had no idea if she took anything from her father since she doesn't remember him at all. She always made sure to point out how she was jealous of her brother's beauty, but he never ceased to ruin the joke.

"Illness isn't something to be jealous of, Joanna," he always said.

Yet she couldn't buy it. How can something so beautiful be a sickness? If elves still walked among them, then she was sure he would blind in with them with ease.

"Wait for me!" she called out as she raced after him.

"Bye, Mom!" she waved at her mother before throwing on her shoes.

The moment that they set foot on the street, Joanna found herself clinging to her brother, thanking the heavens that her brother's frame was tall and blessed with the perfect amount of muscles for a 19-year-old boy.

Elfric was right when he said that they were living in a dumpster. Maybe she never came to notice from the bright vibe that was always in her home. Before she could think of anything else, she found herself slamming right into a solid chest.

"Ouch," she groaned in pain as she held he nose to check if it was still in place. She held her head up, ready to fight with her brother, who came to a sudden jolt in front of her without notice.

For a moment, she believed that she had bumped into a stranger if it hadn't been for the silver hair and familiar frame of her brother's back. The aura around him changed, almost as if it was replaced by someone else – something else – she felt the darkness oozing out of him.

Leaning forward to take a look at his face that was held down, his once bright violet eyes were now shades darker, venom violet…that was the only expression that fit.

This wasn't her brother.

"Rick…?"