Laurent and the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 1)

It would have been easiest to simply pass through the rooms where the party was still going strong, but Laurent didn’t wish to see anyone—least of all King—and so he used a small corridor that must have been formerly used by servants. It was eerily quiet when he approached the staircase that would lead him into the abyss that was the cellar, almost as if the old walls magically dulled the loud base and the aggressive rumble of electric guitars.

Laurent stood in front of the old staircase. Were he to walk up, he’d enter King’s own quarters, but the steps hiding beyond the secret door behind the gargoyle’s back were like a black hole, and despite his best attempts, he didn’t manage to switch on the light with any of the buttons on the nearby walls. If he wished to go down there and assist Beast, he would have to forget fear and just dive in.

Each careful step he took brought him closer to Fane’s soul, trapped somewhere in these rooms. Could a ghost hurt him? Could it wrap its translucent fingers around Laurent’s neck and squeeze until Laurent could no longer breathe?

With only the moonlight behind his back illuminating the steps, he still noticed that something was different about the cellar. Were there fewer rooms than there had been in 1805? Was the corridor shorter? Or had it just seemed longer in the past because everything in Fane’s house had been so grand?

Step, by painful step, he was getting closer to the chamber Fane had taken him to that fateful night. He breathed in the dusty, somewhat damp air of the corridor that hadn’t been touched for decades.

The entrance at the end was closed, and no sounds came from beyond the door, but a thin line of brightness above the floor made Laurent breathe faster. He approached, hesitating for a moment before he pressed down the handle and opened the door.

The smell of mold and fresh blood filled Laurent with nausea, but he stepped into the room, eyes drawn to the red smears visible in the faint light of a flashlight placed on the mantelpiece. The room was empty, with just a few boxes and metal barrels grouped in the corner. A section of the floor had been removed, uncovering the symbol underneath, which made a cold shudder run down Laurent’s spine.

His heart might have stopped for a moment when he noticed the dark silhouette curled up in the one of the corners, and he frantically swiped his gaze along all the walls in search of the deceptively handsome face of a ghost.

Fane was gone, but Beast looked up, and his face twisted when he spotted Laurent, but he remained seated on his haunches.

Laurent didn’t know what to say to the man he used to think only had Laurent’s best interest in mind. Had Laurent missed warning signs as he slowly entrapped himself by waking up in Beast’s arms every single day? And even if Beast’s plans weren’t nearly as sinister as Fane’s had been, it still stung to be treated like livestock, as if Laurent couldn’t be trusted to stay true to Beast of his own will and needed a chain around his neck.

Worst of all, despite knowing of Beast’s desire to keep Laurent at all cost, the thought of living without him cracked Laurent’s heart open. How could he smile, kiss him, and enjoy their remaining days when he was selling Beast’s life in exchange for his own? He could already hear the clock ticking away the days until August 29th.

11 days.

Beast stared at the bare wall, as if it were covered with gold paint and mosaics. The smear of red on his face was like barbarian war paint, but even in the white light of the flashlight, Beast seemed overly pale under his tattoos. How much blood had he lost?

“I see you, my beast,” Laurent said with all the tenderness overflowing in his heart.

Beast took a deep breath, so loud it echoed between the empty walls. “Yours? You rejected me. What do you want now?”

Laurent stepped into the room, choked by the sickly smell. Couldn’t all clocks just stop ticking in his heart, as if reminding Laurent of the future that was too terrifying to consider? “I need my freedom. That does not mean I want to change what is between us.”

Beast shot to his feet, clutching the vest in one hand as he approached Laurent in long, menacing strides. Now that he stretched in the light, Laurent could see the glimmer of parallel cuts on the tattooed forearms. They weren’t bleeding anymore at least. “Freedom to do what? Fuck around if someone better comes along?”

Laurent shrank in the face of such anger but didn’t back down. “Freedom to do whatever I wish.” It came out hoarse, as if he was already being infected from the inside by the choice he hadn’t even made. He looked at the man in front of him. It hadn’t been that long since they met in the dusty corridor upstairs, yet already Laurent couldn’t cope with the thought of Beast not being around. His mind was falling down an endless well where only pain and suffering awaited.