Sweet Sin - S01 E75

Story 1 week ago

Sweet Sin - S01 E75

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 75

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[Valhalla Grounds Infirmary]

Bexley looks better than yesterday. At least, the bodily wounds are starting to dry up, and the pains have reduced.

As she lay in bed, counting the ceiling of the infirmary, Frontman came in again with a tray containing her next dose of medicine.

I hate drugs…” Bexley squeezed her face tight.

“These drugs were gotten from Leader’s special stack. Wanna heal and return to stage as the best Delilah here? Take the medications serious.”

Frontman set the tray down.

“Even if I die, no other Delilah will deliver like I do, and you know that. I know the other bitches are happy now, but they should wait for my comeback.” Bexley heaved. “Had to lie to Allison that I went to Miami for a fuckin birthday.”

“Here,” Frontman unscrewed the cap of the first medicine.

Bexley sat up, took it, and drank up. “I swear to fûck, I’m getting justice myself.”

“There’s so much heat around here lately, Bexley. Especially now that Wrath is out of the Church. You don’t wanna get on the Billionaire’s nerves.” Frontman advised.

“Wrath is who?” Bexley asked.

“Tobias St. Graves.” Frontman responded.

“Oh,” Bexley nodded. “The Cultist Priest? Fits him more, but Dora? Don’t try to preach to me. I’ll get to her, and the asshole who blew up my car.” She took the second bottle.

Dyed hair came in.

“Teeth ain’t here?” He asked.

“Why would Teeth be here at the infirmary?” Frontman stood. “He’s probably somewhere killing someone.”

“Why isn’t he picking my calls?” Dyed hair muttered, leaving. “Fûck…”

Bexley hissed out.

—

[Next Day – Dean’s Estate]

At 7, Seraphina was ready.

She didn’t try to get late or play tease games. She’s eager to see what Horror Night means, too. And she can’t wait.

She wore mini leather skirt and a net blouse. Simple, but hot on her thigh-high boots.

She hasn’t seen Dean since the scene with Tobias, so there was no obstruction. She met a Rover in front of the mansion which she concluded belonged to Migos immediately.

The backdoor clicked open, and she got in, meeting exactly who she suspected.

Migos.

He sat on the driver’s eat, the scar on his face looking as weird as ever. She wondered where he got that from.

She shut the door on herself, and he said nothing to her. He started the car drive.

Seraphina didn’t even focus on the route. She kept thinking ways to start a conversation as she’s uncomfortable.

“How did you get your scar?”

That was the first question she asked.

“I just knew you’d trespass,” Migos groaned. “What has my fuckin’ scar got to do with you?”

“Then, does Father hate his late parents?” She asked again.

“Fûck!” Migos stopped the car. “I’ll drop you on the pavement, and leave you in the open!”

“You won’t, cos Father told you to take me, and you must.” She boldly retorted.

“Then shut your mouth. I already can’t stand you, don’t worsen this.” He resumed the drive with a screech from the tires. “And it’s Wrath, First Man, Black Rose, anything, but not Father. He left the Church, you can drop it.”

“He left the Church?” She asked, surprised, and of course Migos said nothing to that question.

The rest of the drive was a ritual of silence, and after thirty more long-ass minutes, they arrived at Odium Hell.

The exterior made her stop and stare for a handful of minutes, marvelled and shocked that such building existed in this city.

Which part of the city is this? She has no idea. It’s like Migos cast a spell or something to make her not study the route on their way here.

Migos entered without waiting for her, and she quickly followed.

Stepping inside was another mystification experience. Each step made feel feel like her soul was bleeding on the black walls.

Each breath made her feel like she’s taking in what she shouldn’t take in. Yet, she took it.

The dark walls, dark ceilings with golden fire-like edges, and the golden grounds, the branded doors with butterfly insignias, and the black rare butterflies flying around.

Is this an outer horizon?

Migos moved fast, but she moved faster, catching up fast before he opened the sixth door in that huge, breathing hallway.

The door-opening took her into another world.

Noises she didn’t expect blew up her eardrums. They nearly rendered her deaf.

The room is full.

Not only with Odds, but with naked women and men who’re blindfolded as they moved in choreographed form in the middle of the place.

They’re like thirty. All blindfolded, all naked, all moving in synchronization.

This ain’t the Hellfire room.

This is the Horror room where tonight will unfold.

All of the Odds are easy to identify tonight as their faces are painted black and gold in a zebra-like way.

They look like beasts.

She couldn’t tell which was Yalda or Migos or anyone else.

They’re not wearing suits jacket tonight. Instead, it’s their black Odds jacket with gold butterfly patterns.

And… their hands are all bloodstained.

Seraphina didn’t have to look too far before sighting the sacrifice close to the choreographing people.

The sacrifice is Grilled teeth—a Valhalla Serpent.

Seraphina recognized him immediately cos when she was kidnapped, he was the one who brought her to their Leader.

Right now, he looks helpless as he was chained to a table, flat. His hands and legs are spread, and the bounds strapped around his wrist and ankles and stomach. He’s shirtless, and a female Odd is on the table with him, tearing his stomach with a knife.

Seraphina recognized her as Yalda despite her facial paint.

As Yalda tore and took blood from him, the Odds dipped their hands in his blood, laughing delightfully.

Yalda pulled out one of his intestines and hung it around her neck like necklace, nodding.

The Odds hailed her, and she laughed sickly, throwing her head back.

“Tequila? Vodka? Rum?” An Odd crossed Seraphina with a tray.

“No.” She rejected, wanting to move forward, but she was crossed yet again—by a giant dog.

She didn’t cowe.

She just stared down at the black doberman, wondering what a dog’s doing here.

She dog sniffled her, and it refused to leave.

“It probably smelled First Man’s cigar from you.” Jude appeared without a facial paint.

“Fûck! Finally a familiar face!” Seraphina breathed.

“Like what you’re seeing?” Jude asked.

“You don’t mean that,” Seraphina frowned. “They’re butchering a human.” She blinked.

“At least, you didn’t puke. It’s good.” Jude nodded.

“I guess,” Seraphina looked at the dog again. “Wrath owns it?”

“Yeah, the name is Grimm.”

Seraphina touched the dog’s head, and it’s weirdly calm. It even leaned into her touch.

“Can’t believe it’s calm with you. It’s always so violent around first-timers.” Jude muttered.

“Where’s…him?” Seraphina asked.

“First Man?” Jude raised his lid. “There.” He pointed.

Seraphina followed his hand, and right beside a huge chess table at the back, she saw him.

His face isn’t painted, and he’s rocking something else too.