"Well, look who finally decided to show up."

It's been a week since the bathhouse incident. A week since Wren let slip that December is able to visit Abrahm in the palace dungeons. A week since...

"I was busy." It isn't a total lie, Celeste having ran him ragged for the past seven days with blood tests and samples and the like. "I swear." December places his hand across his chest as if to make the lie more meaningful, a small part of him aware of how little he wants to be here.

Abrahm only smiles though it isn't clear whether the action is also a lie or not. The air between the two is stale, a large gap placed between them as December hovers at the entrance of the cell. It's as much as a dungeon as one would think, plain cobblestone slabs stacked together with iron bars at each cell. There's only a sliver of sunlight that slips into the cell from a strip of window at the very top of the wall. Besides that, the only light source derives from the torches that sporadically line the walls of the corridor outside the cells.

"Are you going to come in here or not? I never thought you'd be the type to treat me like a stranger." Abrahm smirks, a fire rising within December at the expression.

"You're free to go inside." Sasha interjects from the sidelines, expression unreadable as he leans against the cobblestone stairwell leading to the upper region of the castle. He doesn't seem bothered by having to babysit December, watchful eyes merely bored as they gaze into the two human's within the cell.

Though his mind fights against it, December enters the cell, body falling onto a plain metal bed pushed against the corner of the room. There isn't much here, just a bed, desk, and chair, everything void of the colors and brightness that clutter the upper region of the palace. As he falls upon the bed it gives way with a heavy creak, the scent of mildew rising into the air from the yellowed and torn blankets.

Abrahm merely scoffs from his seat at the desk chair, head shaking slightly as he stares at the soiled blankets. "I'm pretty sure they gave me the worst cell in this place."

He seems tired, skin paled from the lack of sun and eyes dragged down by darkened bags. After only a week his cheeks have sunken in slightly, the same Haven clothes now soiled against his back and hair a tangled mess. It's a far cry from the proud man he once was.

December can only bite back his lip, nails digging into his thighs at Abrahm's arrogant comments. "You defiled their king, I doubt they were going to give you a suite, Abrahm." His words are stiff, eyes burning a hole in the wall as he adverts his gaze from the boy before him. December knows he won't be able to hold himself still, nails digging further into his flesh until red welts rise to the surface.

"God, don't tell me you're under that brat's spell too?" Abrahm barks out a stiff laugh, the sound of chains rustling against the floor echoing throughout the tiny cell. "You do know that thing is a guy right? Or is there something you just haven't told me about yourself yet? If you tell me you had a crush on me back in Haven I'll kick your ass." He jokes, chained hand reaching out to shake December's shoulder.

"I don't have feelings for Wren." I think... "And I don't have feelings for you either."

December shrugs away the chained hand on his shoulder, gaze still coldly cast away against the cobblestone wall. He can't bring himself to look into Abrahm's eyes, to acknowledge the man he thought he knew so well, the man he regarded as a brother. Now to look upon him is to gaze into the eyes of a beast, a creature without a conscious or a soul, just a physical manifestation of sin and pride.

"Well," Abrahm inhales, chains rattling with the movement. "that's good to know since..." his gaze falls upon Sasha across the room, eyes narrowing slightly as they bounce between December and Sasha. "you know...the blockers." He whispers, head tucked away from Sasha sat patiently in the stairwell.

The blockers... "I think you were wrong. I've been examining Wren all week and he hasn't shown a single sign of addiction." December lies between gritted teeth, false smile plastered across his lips though they beg to fall into a grimace, to tear into the chained demon ahead of him until nothing but blood remains.

He hasn't been able to stop thinking of the bathhouse, of Wren's blatant admittance to being addicted to the blockers. Wren isn't even aware of his own addiction, writing off the aches and lack of sleep as his body adjusting to a vampiric diet after so many years. Yet for December who knows the truth, the small statement has only repeated itself in his mind, guilt overcoming him every time he thinks of the blockers still tucked within his palace dresser.

"I really doubt I was wrong, it was plain as day he had all the signs of-"

"Abrahm." The name rings through the cell with a malice unknown to December. The sound too forceful, too sharp as it drips with poison from behind gritted teeth. "I know my patients. I know my job. You are still under my jurisdiction, don't question your superior."

It's only now that December's gaze shifts, eyes falling upon Abrahm with a hatred he can no longer contain. There's no soul behind those brown eyes, no flicker of life or hint of remorse. Only emptiness lies behind each dull orb, eyes foggy as they stare into blazing blue, the hottest of fires that can ever be burned.

Abrahm is the first to break the stare, eyes falling upon the rusted chains that bound his hands to the floor. "Listen, I overheard from a guard that I'll be executed soon." He pauses shortly as if waiting for a sympathetic response that never comes, just an emptiness as December sits silently ahead of him. "They said that I had a chance though, December. Apparently since we're the only humans from Haven we count as some sort of sovereign nation tribe or something. If all of the people of  the tribe agree to pardon me then I won't be executed."

Silence falls upon the room for far too long, December's breaths shallow as he attempts to calm himself for his next words. "Do you actually believe Ryder would agree to spare your life?" Do you actually believe I would?

"I believe you will." Abrahm smiles, blissfully unaware of the blood draining from December's cheeks. "Besides, you've always been above Ryder so if you tell him to pardon me he'd basically have to go along with it."

December can no longer pretend to still himself, to sit silently as his legs bleed from his attempts at restraining himself. He can no longer hold back the heat that rushes to his face, the burning of his hands as he grips the metal framing of the bed. "Abrahm, I'm not going to pardon you and I'm not going to ask Ryder to extend an ounce of sympathy towards you." He bites, body only now aware of the vampire watching their every move.

"Listen," December's words come out cooler, a frost creeping around each syllable as he dodges his lips from the vampire's view. "the Abrahm I knew, the Abrahm I thought I knew, is already dead to me. They can devour your body for all that I care, but for what you did, you deserve death, Abrahm."

A stiff chuckle bubbles from Abrahm's lips, head falling towards the sky as his entire body shakes from the force of the false laugh. "So you're really choosing a beast over your brother?"

"You are not my brother."

"I hope your cousin's boyfriend, or should I say your boyfriend, is worth betraying all of humanity for."

December doesn't fall into the trap laid before him, rather rising from the moldy bed and making his way to the cell's entrance without a word. His thighs sting from the wounds he inflicted on himself, a part of him wishing that he hadn't bit his tongue and held himself back. Wishing that he had  allowed himself to cut loose just this once, to know the feel of bone against bruising knuckles. The feeling of wild breaths, of burning muscles and the portrait of blood splattered across blue-toned cobblestone.

"I would rather betray humanity than lose my own." His fingers wrap around the iron bars until his knuckles fall white, body turned away from Abrahm in fear that he truly might kill the boy. "That's how we differ, Abrahm, because in your rabid hunt to destroy some fabricated, mythical monster you never even realized that you had become that in which you seek. You're the monster, Abrahm. You're the demon in the night, and like any demon you must be exorcised."

"I pray the next king isn't stupid enough to build a palace less than a day's walk from the entrance. The amount of times I was able to sneak to the twin trees? The amount of notes and directions I left for Jenn?" Abraham laughs, a wild, manic sound that gurgles from the depths of his throat. A hyena's cackle mixed with the chaotic shaking of iron chains scraping against stone. "I hope your king is ready, December! Haven is coming! Haven is coming!" He screams, the phrase morphing into a demonic chant as he rises from his chair, body flying towards the iron gates though his chains stop him just short, breath heavy against December's shoulder though he refuses to turn around, only gripping the iron gate tighter.

"Wren will be prepared for Haven's arrival. Shame you won't be alive to witness it." Though December's words are calm his whitened knuckles betray him, fingers numb as they unravel from the iron gates holding him at bay.

Abrahm's breath falls back, chain dragging across the floor as he finds his way beside December, chained hand reaching up to brush a stray hair behind the boy's ear with false sympathy. "Must be hard chasing after your cousin's lover. Having to watch them fawn all over each other." 

His touch is too foreign, too cold as the chains drag across December's cheek. Brows furrowed, he swats the other boy's hand away before opening the door of the cell. "How many times have I told you I don't have feelings for Wren?"

The chained boy only smiles, a sinister grin that overtakes his entire features, eyes dark as the first flash of a mangled soul rises to the surface. "December, I don't blame you for falling for Wren," he whispers, tone too soft as his lips fall upon December's ears so only he can hear, breath hot and ragged as he moans his next words. "after all, he did feel pretty good."

There's only the sound of footsteps against stone, Sasha making his way up the stone staircase deaf to the commotion behind him. Deaf to the crash of bloodied knuckles gracing bone for the first time, deaf to the heaving breaths of a body that's no longer a virgin to the sin of wrath. A body that now knows how to paint a portrait with blood, a body that will exorcise the true demons among them with a force unknown.

A body that will carry out God's Work Through God's Creation.

———-
A/N
UGGGGHHHH I put off this chapter for daaaaays cause I had no motivation for it at ALL like no direction no anything truly surprised I was able to get it up to word count tbh so hopefully it's okay >.<