Aphrodite
Chapter 10

As Vlad navigated the car through the city, the streets stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of sporadic streetlights. The journey unfolded with an unusual calm, the late hour offering clear roads and a swift passage through the sleeping city. Their progress was swift, unimpeded by the usual congestion of daytime traffic.

Rachel watched the city blur past the windows, its quietude lending a surreal quality to their drive. She noted Vlad’s careful handling of the car, a precision in his driving that seemed at odds with the reckless demeanour she’d come to associate with him. The careful manoeuvres, the attentive pauses at intersections, even when no other vehicles were in sight—it all painted a picture of someone far more considerate than the Vlad she thought she knew.

Interrupting their silent journey, Rachel ventured, “How did you come to have black essence?”

Vlad spared her a quick look. “I was curious when you’d broach that subject. I will be honest with you, because if you are going be bonded to be, you deserve that much. I’ve ended lives, both of creatures and humans alike.”

Her voice wavered slightly, “And you would’ve killed me had it not been for the shield?”

“I would have done whatever it took to protect myself, as I’m sure you would do that same.”

Pressing further, she asked, “Do you understand the concept of right and wrong?”

Vlad’s expression darkened slightly, his eyebrows knitting together. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

Feeling her grip tighten, Rachel was astonished by his casual justification. “Excuse me? Since when are right and wrong a matter of opinion? You see nothing wrong with what happened tonight?”

He sighed, “Firstly, I did that to save us both. I am sorry for how it was done, but you were not listening to our warnings. But, Aphrodite, I have lived a long time. Right and wrong change all the time. Things I do now were perfectly acceptable for centuries. I’m not going to count a few decades of law as a standard.”

“You don’t feel guilt for all the lives you’ve taken?”

Vlad’s stance was resolute. “Life is an everlasting battle. There are winners and there are losers. Unlike these humans, I refuse to feel loss. It is a pointless emotion.”

“But why resort to killing in the first place?”

“Rachel, haven’t you understood? The world is fraught with peril.”

“So how does Daruis have white light, and you don’t?”

“I have had to kill for essence, he has not. I have been weakened, and nearly forced into the underworld. I have taken much greater risks, and for that I paid the price. I never desired this path, but it’s mine, irreversible now. Yet, understand this—humans pose a far greater danger to us than any creature.”

As they parked outside her apartment, Rachel was still digesting Vlad’s revelations, trying to reconcile the danger he presented with the vulnerability he had just shared. “Rachel, the job offer still stands,” he reiterated as she exited the car, snapping her back to the present.

“Why now?” she questioned, genuinely puzzled. “You’ve been pushing me away since we met. What’s different?”

His next words surprised her. “You’re a good person, Rachel. This whole situation... it wasn’t your choice. And your art, it spoke to me. You have a real gift.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said. As she walked to her building, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe there was more to Vlad worth exploring.

Even though it was late, fatigue was far from her mind. The day’s heat lingered on her skin, leaving her craving the cleansing comfort of a hot bath. She searched her bag for her keys, distracted by Vlad’s presence in his car. Her hands shook slightly as she unlocked the door. Once she was safely inside, he drove away.

Upon entering her apartment, she let out a sigh of relief, quickly lighting up the room. She shut the door behind her and discarded her bag on the kitchen counter.

Tucked away behind some boxes in her closet was an A3 canvas, still encased in its dusty plastic wrap. Since moving to the city, she had brought along her art supplies, dreaming of days filled with artistic endeavour. Yet, her aspirations had been largely overshadowed by her job, which demanded most of her time.

Rachel set her art supplies up in the living room, creating a makeshift studio with the couch as her audience. Drawing the curtains, she looked out into the pre-dawn darkness, contemplating the changes within her. A sense of unfamiliarity with herself grew stronger by the minute.

Driven to capture her feelings, Rachel picked up an old brush. It seemed like an extension of her soul, her truest form of communication with the world. She began painting with fervent brushstrokes, tears streaming down her cheeks as she poured her emotions onto the canvas. Gradually, her mind calmed and her movements steadied.

Rachel painted for hours until a glimpse of red caught her eye. Looking outside, she marvelled at the sun striking the building across the street. Though sometimes she longed for a better view, she reminded herself that she truly loved the character of the old city buildings.

Setting her brush down, Rachel studied the portrait she had created. Whether Vlad was physically present or merely captured in paint, his allure was undeniable. She had rendered his features meticulously, capturing a stern expression tempered with a touch of pride gleaming in his eyes. But as she examined her work, all she could see was a being that made her heart race and yearn for his presence. Vlad had irrevocably altered the landscape of her soul, weaving himself into its very fabric, and despite the complexities of their bond, she found herself unable to sever the connection.

Determined to shake off these thoughts, Rachel left the painting to dry and headed to the bathroom. His scent still clung to her clothes and skin. She shed her clothes, leaving them in a heap on the bedroom floor, and bent over the bathtub to crank the taps to full blast. She gathered candles, arranging and igniting them around the room to cast a soothing glow.

By the time the bath was ready, the room was shrouded in steam. Rachel eased into the hot water, feeling her skin tingle and redden with the warmth. She sought to relax, aiming to rid her mind of Vlad. Yet, each time she closed her eyes, his image stubbornly reappeared, refusing to fade.

Submerging herself, Rachel opened her eyes to her purple light flickering on the water’s surface. This mysterious light made her curious about its significance and her own powers. After coming up for air, she rested, attempting to think back to her days before Vlad, but his presence quickly dominated her thoughts again.

Slowly and gently, something tugged her underwater, submerging her completely. Startled, her eyes snapped open to the sight of her purple light dancing on the water’s surface above her. She struggled to rise, her efforts thwarted by an unseen force clutching her leg. Panic surged as she fought to escape, glimpsing a dark form rising from the drain, ensnaring her like a serpent.

Rachel fought the creature, but it tightened its grip, holding her in place. Desperate to breathe, she clung to the tub’s edge and heaved herself above water. She took in the creature’s smooth, shiny skin, and the way it coiled around her legs and torso.

Rachel knew her shield was her only hope, yet activating it seemed impossible in her panic. The creature’s grip tightened, plunging her head underwater again. Desperately, she focused on conjuring her shield, yet how to do so eluded her.

Her attempts to visualise the shield failed. The purple light glimmering above seemed pointless, offering no protection. Immobilised and unable to breathe, she was at the creature’s mercy. Strangely, despite the length of time underwater, she didn’t gasp for air.

“Struggling will not help,” echoed a deep voice, though no face or body accompanied it.

“How can I hear you?” she asked, puzzled by her ability to communicate underwater without speaking.

“I am known as the leech. I have no mouth, and this is my form on earth. I do not require a human body to communicate.”

Despite her efforts to escape, the creature’s hold remained firm. “What do you want from me?” she questioned, her fear resonating within her own thoughts.

“Are you the Aphrodite?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why aren’t you dead? Something is protecting you,” the creature hissed, an action that struck her as strange given it wasn’t actually a snake.

“Why isn’t it protecting me from you?”

At her question, the creature’s laughter turned dark and menacing. She had unwittingly provided it with the insight it desired. “Because your shield only works on creatures born of this realm. You are the one he is looking for.”

“You’re not him?”

“No, but I have to confirm you are the one he is looking for so that his effort is not wasted.”

Frustrated by her inadvertent honesty, she wished she could mislead the creature, pretend ignorance of its motives. Yet, it appeared to have influence over her thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“His body is not currently of this world. Returning to this realm is not an easy task, but for the right reasons, prices will always be paid.”

Recalling the vivid dream she experienced while at Vlad’s—the image of a creature departing for the realm of the living—she couldn’t help but wonder, could that have been the Abaddon?

As the creature’s hold became excruciating, a tendril ominously approached her inner thigh. Uncertain of its intentions yet fearing the worst, she tensed. The sudden, sharp pain confirmed her fears—it had bitten her. She twisted in agony as it sank its teeth deeper into her flesh.

“What are you doing, you delusional fucking leech?”

“I have to confirm you are the Aphrodite. Aphrodite was always my favourite. You taste like a ripened strawberry in the spring,” the leech remarked, drawing a scowl from her.

“You are disgusting. If I could cut you into pieces, I would.”

“Quite bold for someone who can’t even wiggle free,” the leech taunted, enjoying her frustration.

Observing the tendril attached to her thigh, she recognised it was siphoning her blood, each pulse sapping her strength further. “Is that why they call you the leech? You drink blood like a vampire?”

“I am a blood feeder like the vampire. I cannot see the lights of your essence, but I taste them, and you taste like the Aphrodite.”

Feeling the leech’s hold weaken and its tendrils retract, she quickly acted, gripping the sides of the bathtub to pull herself up. Gasping for breath, she tumbled over the rim and landed heavily on the cool bathroom tiles. Supporting herself on shaky elbows, she glanced back at the bathtub. The ordeal had been real, not a figment of her imagination; the dark, serpentine creature was now retreating into the drain.

“Wait,” she managed to utter, her voice hoarse. “I have questions.”

“You have bonded to a creature? I can feel a connection.”

“It was a mistake.”

“If you want this creature to live, you should break the bond. When master arrives, he will destroy it if you have not.”

“How do I remove it?”

“My duty is complete, Aphrodite.”

But before she could get another word out, the creature disappeared into the drain, the water swirling away after it. Looking down at her thigh, she noticed puncture marks from which blood oozed—a chilling confirmation of the leech’s existence and a grim indicator that the Abaddon’s arrival was imminent.

The atmosphere in the bathroom grew oppressively heavy, shadows from the candlelight moving ominously. A profound sense of foreboding settled over her, a tangible weight of dread. Time was slipping away, each moment pressing closer to the moment she would have to confront the Abaddon.

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