Aphrodite
Chapter 30

When Rachel awoke, she found herself surrounded not by the familiar confines of her small cell, but instead by a image of blurred green hues. She didn’t recognise this new prison. She vaguely remembered the humans coming to her cell shortly after the Abaddon’s departure, tasering her and drugging her.

Her vision, clouded from the drugs used to keep her subdued, struggled to make sense of the shapes around her. The distant memory of sunlight was replaced by the oppressive scent of damp and decay, while elongated shapes of vibrant green loomed close, their colour deepening into a menacing darkness as they receded into the distance. The sounds of rustling leaves and distant animal calls echoed around her, blending into a cacophony of disorientation.

Straining against her restraints, Rachel tried to focus on her surroundings. The uneven ground beneath her felt more like the forest floor than the concrete of a cell, and the air was thick with humidity. As her senses slowly adjusted, she became aware of the faint sounds of water nearby, perhaps a river or a stream, and the faint, distant murmurs of voices—human voices—somewhere in the tangled maze of green.

A shiver coursed through her, goosebumps peppering her skin as she felt the cold bite of metal against her flesh, confining her movements. Her wrists were shackled, confirming her worst fears. The humans must have administered hallucinogens; the sights and scents assaulting her senses couldn’t possibly be grounded in reality.

Rachel yanked against her restraints, her skin breaking and blood beading at the surface as the metal dug in. Each time she blinked, she saw two different blurry images—one of a medical room, the other of a dark forest. Her head throbbed with a ferocity that made her wince, and she choked back a cry as blood dripped from her nose. It was as if she was in two places at once.

“It’s of no use,” a strange male taunted from the shadows.

Rachel’s eyes darted around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. She knew this was another of the humans’ twisted games. “Release me!” she demanded, her voice raw. She wouldn’t let their drugs and psychological warfare break her spirit. With a grunt, she pulled against her bonds again, ignoring the searing pain and the white spots dancing before her eyes.

“The pain will subside if you cease your struggles,” the voice insisted, its tone now warped, as if coming from the depths of a long tunnel.

Rachel strained to focus, her heart pounding as a form slowly emerged from a speck of darkness, taking on a human-like shape. “I will not give in,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Her gaze fell to the bond mark on her wrist, where a familiar warmth began to spread, even as her blood seeped over it. The warmth was comforting, almost reassuring, and for a moment, she felt an odd sense of clarity. When she raised her eyes again, the world snapped into sharp relief, revealing an illusion of a forest so majestic it took her breath away. Towering trees stretched skyward, their canopies lost in the heavens. The forest floor was a chaotic blend of vibrant ferns, decaying logs, and moss that painted everything with strokes of green and yellow.

In the midst of this natural cathedral stood a figure cloaked in black, its human form belied by the utter lack of features on its face. “Why is your face...blank?” Rachel asked, her voice quivering slightly despite her attempts to sound brave.

“Take down your shield and I will show you,” the entity replied, its voice smooth and chilling.

A chill wind brushed against Rachel, reminding her of the metal still biting into her wrists. This had to be an illusion, but it felt disturbingly real, especially when pain surged through her skull.

Anger bubbled within her at the thought of this creature, possibly a traitor, colluding with humans. “What are you?” she demanded, her voice echoing through the illusory forest.

“Tell me what you are and I will tell you what I am,” it countered, its voice a sibilant whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

Rachel hesitated, her heart pounding. The warmth on her wrist flared, urging her to fight, while a deeper instinct warned her to remain silent. She was tired, battered, and desperate for answers, but instinctively knew this creature was dangerous.

Memories of Myus surfaced in Rachel’s mind. This felt like a feeder, creatures that were notorious for their treachery, willing to betray their own at the slightest provocation.

A heavy silence fell over the forest, the only sound Rachel’s own heightened breathing. Then, without warning, a blinding pulse of light tore through her vision, intensifying the pain in her head. She cried out, but quickly bit her lip, unwilling to show weakness.

“If you cannot breach my shield, how is it you have brought me to this place?” Rachel asked.

“Your shield does not stop the humans. They gave me a pathway in, but if you just dropped your shield, there would be no pain. This would all be over,” the creature intoned, its voice like a whisper of death.

“The last time I let my guard down, a feeder nearly sapped all my essence,” Rachel retorted, her voice dripping with scorn. “You’ll forgive me for not complying with your wishes—or those of the humans.”

The creature paused, as if considering her words. “You think you understand your enemies, but you do not,” it replied, its tone softening to something almost like pity. “You are blind to what lies ahead. “What are you? What is it that you are capable of?”

No matter their tactics, she wouldn’t break the vow she’d made to herself. She gripped the armrests of her chair, her knuckles whitening as she funnelled all her burgeoning rage into the strength of her grasp. “Why don’t you reveal yourself first?” she shot back. “What could possibly compel a despicable feeder like you to side with the humans? To betray your own kind?”

The creature seemed to ignore her questions, its focus narrowing. “You resurrected a human, and your power surged both before and after. How is that possible?”

“You’re wasting your time. I won’t divulge anything to a traitor,” Rachel spat, her voice venomous.

The creature’s blank face reflected nothing back at her, but its stance shifted, as if caught between amusement and frustration. “You think you know what you’re protecting. But you don’t. I have ample essence to sustain this for as long as necessary. But can you endure?”

Rachel’s vision was once again flooded with blinding white light as pain wracked her body. “What are they offering you? Is it truly worth your betrayal? Or were you always a traitor at heart?”

The figure remained motionless. Its lack of facial features should have been terrifying, but Rachel found it only fuelled her anger. This creature was nothing more than a coward hiding behind a faceless facade.

“You bear a bond,” it observed, seemingly fixated on her wrist. “Is the power we’ve witnessed derived from the creature you’re tied to? You’re no vampire.”

Rachel stared at the entity’s featureless form, a flicker of surprise passing through her. “How long have you been out of favour with the creatures? You seem to know less than any creature I’ve met.”

The creature’s form stiffened, and for a moment, Rachel sensed she had struck a nerve. “You are foolish to mock what you do not understand,” it hissed, its voice dripping with malice. “They cast me out because they feared my abilities.”

Rachel pondered this revelation. What abilities could possibly be deemed more dangerous than those of the Abaddon? Feeders were known for their insatiable greed, often leading to the demise of other creatures. Perhaps this one had been cast out for its inability to control its voracious appetites.

“It’s hard to believe they would do so without cause,” she mused aloud. “Unless you turned those abilities against them.”

For the first time, a mouth materialized on the creature’s smooth facade, twisting into a grotesque smile that revealed jagged, predatory teeth. “It wasn’t my abilities they feared,” it hissed. “It was their own.”

Rachel’s heart skipped a beat as she realised the pain in her head was ebbing. Her shield was weakening; he was breaking through.

“In time,” it continued, “I will master your shield, and then whatever powers you possess, I will claim as my own.”

Fear coursed through Rachel, her skin flushing a deep, fiery red. “You replicate their powers for the humans? You’re nothing but their puppet?”

“I do not understand why you all fight so hard. All you creatures are so selfish, so unwilling to share for the benefit of all living things on this earth.”

Rachel’s focus shifted to the ferns surrounding them, her breath catching as she noticed a thick, tar-like substance oozing from their fronds, the plants wilting before her eyes.

“Tell me, what good has come from your collaboration with the humans? How many lives have you saved? How many have you truly helped?” As she spoke, the mark on her arm blazed with searing pain.

This creature had helped the humans advance against its own kind. Violet among others was dead, and Vlad and Darius had to live their lives hiding in fear. Because of this creature, so many had been hurt, and Rachel could only imagine what it was planning to do with the powers it sought to claim.

“Your questions won’t free you from this place,” the creature said, its head tilting curiously toward her arm. Even without eyes, it seemed to be examining the mark.

Rachel followed its gaze, her own eyes widening in horror as she noticed the black blood seeping from her wounds.

The creature turned, surveying the world it had conjured. It let out a wail of despair upon seeing rivers of black liquid cascading from the trees, their bark turning a deathly shade.

Whirling back to face her, it screamed, “What have you done? You’ve corrupted this place!”

Rachel met its gaze. “It was your illusion. What harm could it possibly do to you?”

The air was split by a high-pitched screech, so piercing that Rachel had to close her eyes, her hands bound and unable to shield her ears. The sound seemed to vibrate through her very bones, but she held herself steady, determined not to crumble.

Inside her, a power was awakening, growing stronger by the second. The Abaddon’s influence was expanding, and when she looked down, she saw the veins in her arms had turned an inky black.

“What is happening?” the creature asked, confused. “Your veins, your eyes, your hair—all have turned black. There’s nothing like you on this earth!”

“You’ve made a grave error, you spineless scavenger,” Rachel snarled, her voice resonating with the power surging within her. “I am the Aphrodite, and this mark is the Abaddon’s.”

“No, that’s impossible,” it stammered, but its protest was cut short as energy exploded within Rachel.

Her heart slowed to a steady rhythm, and the world around her snapped into crystal clarity. She channelled all her newfound strength into her arms and pulled. This time, the restraints snapped, clattering to the ground and shattering the illusion that had held her captive.

Rachel freed herself from the remaining shackles and stood, plucking small electrical cables from her temples. The traitorous creature was gone, having used its abilities to infiltrate her mind, albeit with the humans’ assistance. The sudden absence of its presence was a relief, and she breathed deeply, feeling a new sense of strength.

Rachel’s gaze fell upon the humans in the room, three individuals who looked to be scientists, quaking with fear. They had been so assured of their control that they hadn’t bothered with security measures. Her eyes narrowed, and she assessed the situation.

“Did you really think this would end well for you?” she asked coldly. The scientists glanced at each other, terror plain on their faces. She could sense their fear, like a tangible aura around them, and for a moment, she revelled in the feeling of power coursing through her veins.

Her eyes fell upon a tray of medical instruments nearby. With precision, she seized the sharpest objects and flung them at a young woman in a lab coat. A scalpel found its mark, slicing through her neck and sending a spray of blood into the air as she crumpled to the floor.

Energy coursed through Rachel, her veins bulging black beneath her skin, a tangible manifestation of the power that thrummed within her. She was an unstoppable force.

With a swift motion, she thrust her hand toward a middle-aged man, the memories of her torture and agony driving her actions. Black lights flickered on her skin, coalescing into a stream of dark energy that shot toward the human.

He gasped, his skin turning ashen as the darkness pierced his chest. His body shrivelled, the life essence within him flowing into Rachel, replenishing what had been stolen from her for so long.

In mere moments, his body disintegrated into dust, an explosion of particles that vanished as the black light receded. The sight should have been shocking, but Rachel felt only the cold satisfaction of retribution. The humans had forged this path themselves, and isolation had only fanned the flames of her vengeance.

She turned to the final human, a man paralysed by fear. As she extended her hand, black energy surged forth. The man, his hair a stark grey against his pale skin, could only watch in terror as his doom approached.

But just as the dark power was about to consume him, a jolt of electricity surged through Rachel’s body, repelling the energy back into her. The shock was immediate and intense, causing her to stagger.

Confusion and shock registered briefly before she could identify the source of the attack. Another burst of electricity coursed through her, seizing her muscles, the world fading as darkness claimed her consciousness.

****

Disoriented, Rachel pressed her hands against the concrete floor, using all her strength to lift herself. Sweat beaded at her hairline, trickling down her face as she raised her head to confront the pulsating red lights. The clamour of alarms was an all-consuming cacophony, echoing off the stark walls of her confinement.

She was back in her cell, a fact that brought both familiarity and a surge of claustrophobia. But something had changed. The creature in the cell opposite was visible. Its appearance was jarring—spindly limbs, skin like blackened scales, and eyes—a piercing yellow—that seemed to bore into her very soul. It crouched low, its body taut with anticipation, its eyes fixed on something beyond Rachel’s sight.

“He has arrived...” it whispered, a note of reverence in its voice.

Rachel’s breath caught in her throat as she followed its gaze. There, just beyond the glass that imprisoned her, stood a figure shrouded more by shadows than the dim light of the facility. The silhouette was unmistakably masculine, broad-shouldered, and imposing, but his features remained obscured, as if the darkness was a part of him, a cloak he wore with ease.

She rose to her feet, her legs trembling not just from weakness but also from the surge of emotions within her. His eyes, a deep, glowing red, seemed to see through her, stripping away the layers of pain, defiance, and fear, down to her very core. This was the Abaddon.

Drawn as if by a force beyond her control, Rachel placed her fingertips against the glass, her gaze locked with his. Despite the terror he inspired, he was here for her, had shared his formidable power to wrench her from the humans’ grasp. The sight of him in the flesh, the tangible presence of the Abaddon, altered everything. Now, with a body, their bond could fully manifest.

Rachel’s arms were a tapestry of black veins, her eyes dark pools, and she understood then that the Aphrodite’s bond was unlike any other. She had taken on aspects of the creature to whom she was irrevocably tied. His essence coursed through her, a part of her very being.

“You have found your true power, and embraced the darkness,” he observed, his voice a rumble that she felt as much as heard, satisfaction evident in his tone.

In a thought that was both a plea and a command, she focused on the last barrier that separated them, and the unyielding glass shattered, fragments catching the light as they flew in all directions.

The Abaddon extended his hand through the chaos, steady and sure. Rachel hesitated only a moment before reaching out, her hand trembling. The moment their skin made contact, energy arced between them, intense as lightning striking a lone tree on a hill. Her knees gave out from the sheer power of it, his essence overwhelming her weakened form.

But he was quick to react, his arms encircling her, lifting her effortlessly. He strode toward the exit, Rachel’s head resting against his solid frame. Her focus drifted to the smoke seeping from beneath the door that led to the humans’ laboratory.

With each step the Abaddon took, the flames drew nearer, licking at the edges of her awareness. The locks on the prison cells disengaged one after another, releasing the creatures within. They emerged into the hallway, a procession, drawn after him as if he were a general leading his troops into battle.

By the time they reached the exit, the fire had fully taken hold, an insatiable beast consuming everything in its path. The creatures, once imprisoned, now scrambled toward freedom, their various forms disappearing into the daylight beyond. Heat brushed against Rachel’s skin as they stepped into the sunlight, so bright she had to shield her eyes. A single tear traced a path down her cheek, the reality of her freedom a bittersweet ache in her chest.

He halted. “Aphrodite, all of this has been for you,” he declared.

Rachel blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sunlight. They stood upon a hill, overlooking the valley where the humans’ facility lay. It was engulfed in flames, a pyre in the heart of the wilderness. No human could have survived the inferno.

“I promised I would come for you. The humans will never endanger us again.”

Rachel’s emotions swirled within her—relief, sorrow, and a fierce joy so sharp it bordered on pain. The air was filled with the scent of smoke, and the crackling of the inferno echoed through the wilderness. She was free, and yet bound in ways she was only beginning to understand. The world had shifted on its axis, and as she looked out over the burning valley, she felt a mix of triumph and trepidation.

For so long, she had been fighting just to survive, but now, standing beside the Abaddon, she felt the weight of a new destiny settling upon her shoulders. The flames before her were a pyre, not just for the humans who had imprisoned her, but for the life she had left behind. Despite the uncertainty of the future, a fierce resolve blossomed within her. The Abaddon’s action had proven he was on her side. The humans had underestimated her, and now, she was determined to ensure they would never pose a threat to her kind again. Together, they turned away from the destruction, stepping into the light of a new beginning.