CHAPTER ONE
RAIN OF THE WICKED
I, Benissé “Beni” Messenger, at twenty-two years old, had never wished to be adopted into the noble family that now bore my name. I often thought back to my childhood, a whirlwind of uncertainty and longing. My raven-colored curls were cut short, framing a face that held a mixture of determination and vulnerability. The deep chestnut of my eyes reflected a wealth of untold stories, and my cocoa skin glistened with the remnants of the battle I was currently facing.
I wore a luxurious khaki hooded shadow fur coat, emblazoned with “Shadow Coat” in bold letters on a star-shaped badge. The coat hung loosely on my shoulders, a stark contrast to the fitted noir pants and boots that completed my ensemble. In the shadowy corners of my mind, I could hear the whispers of the life I had left behind, echoing like ghosts in the dimly lit warehouse where I found myself.
The atmosphere around me was thick with tension. I discovered myself tied to a chair, bound tightly by electric wires that dug into my skin, each pulse a reminder of my precarious situation. Beneath me lay a watery puddle that mirrored my state of mind—unstable and murky. Blood, my own, matted my clothes and dripped from various wounds, a vivid crimson against the dull surroundings. I felt weak, each breath a labor, but beneath that weakness lay a flicker of resolve.
As I scanned the warehouse, a sense of unease washed over me. The walls were dark and damp, dripping with moisture that seemed to seep into my bones. Shadows danced around me, teasing my imagination with thoughts of unseen threats lurking just out of sight. I was acutely aware of the cold air clinging to my skin, a chilling contrast to the warmth of my blood.
"Where am I?" I thought, the question echoing in my mind like a haunting refrain.
This wasn’t the world I knew. It felt foreign and sinister, an oppressive weight pressing down on me. I sensed the tension in the air, thick like smoke, filled with the scent of rust and despair.
Despite the creeping dread that crawled up my spine, fear didn’t grip me. Instead, I was left to wonder about the forces that had drawn me into this nightmare. Who had brought me here? What were they planning? The questions swirled like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind, each one more troubling than the last.
I shifted slightly, testing the strength of my bindings. The wires tightened painfully, biting into my wrists and ankles. Pain shot through me, but I welcomed it as a reminder that I was still alive.
"I won’t let them take me," I whispered hoarsely, the sound almost lost in the stillness around me.
My eyes darted around, desperately seeking an escape route. I noted the jagged edges of a broken crate nearby, the splinters glinting like teeth in the dim light. There had to be a way out. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I turned my head sharply, straining against the ropes that bound me.
The silence of the warehouse was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of water dripping somewhere in the shadows. Each drop was a reminder of the urgency of my situation. “I have to stay focused,” I told myself, fighting against the wave of fatigue that threatened to pull me under.
As I sat there, the pain throbbing through my body, memories began to surface—fragments of laughter, the warmth of family, the feeling of belonging. But these thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the reality of my present.
“You’ll never break me,” I vowed inwardly, my resolve hardened like steel.
I closed my eyes for a moment, drawing in a shaky breath. I pictured the faces of those I loved, the ones who had believed in me. The hope they had instilled in me ignited a fire within.
“I will find a way out,” I thought fiercely.
With newfound determination, I began to work against my restraints, my heart pounding in rhythm with the drumming of rain against the warehouse roof. In that moment, the pain and fear faded into the background, leaving only the burning need for survival. I would not succumb to despair. I was Benissé Messenger, and I would fight to reclaim my destiny.
“Mr. Messenger, the Shadow Coats’ highly skillful huntsman detective,” Rain said, his voice echoing in the dimly lit room.
The shadows around us seemed to thicken, swirling like a dark fog. As he spoke, he pulled a photo from his pocket, holding it aloft like a trophy.
“I have men posted outside there in Curriculum Rim, England.”
My gaze snapped to the photo, and my heart raced. It was a picture of Bethsheba and her daughter, Sheba. Bethsheba’s smile was radiant, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, while Sheba, clad in shorts, was caught mid-laugh, a joyful glint in her eyes. The sight of them struck a chord deep within me. They had been my sanctuary, the ones who brought me comfort in turbulent times.
“Tell me again?” I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Hah, joke,” Rain chuckled darkly, a cruel twist to his lips.
He stepped closer, his presence looming like a storm cloud overhead. I felt the weight of the world pressing against me, a sense of dread swelling in my chest. Rain’s eyes were cold, devoid of empathy, and that emptiness unsettled me further.
As he approached, he unsheathed a sharp knife, the blade glinting menacingly under the flickering fluorescent light. My breath caught in my throat, a visceral reaction to the impending pain. Rain’s expression morphed into something malicious. He raised the knife, his movements precise and deliberate, before plunging it into my leg with savage force.
I screamed, the sound echoing off the walls like a wounded animal. The pain coursed through me, a fiery brand that ignited every nerve. I felt the sharp edge bite into flesh, the warmth of my blood pooling around the knife.
"You won't break me!" I gasped, struggling against the chair that bound me.
Every muscle in my body screamed in protest as I fought against the searing agony.
The intensity of the moment enveloped me, pushing me to the brink of consciousness. My mind raced with thoughts of escape and of the people I cared about. I couldn’t let them down.
“I won’t let this end here,” I thought fiercely, forcing myself to focus despite the haze of pain.
“Do you see how serious this is?” Rain taunted, leaning closer, relishing the torment he inflicted. “You thought you could play the hero, but you’re just a pawn in a much bigger game.”
His voice dripped with mockery, and my stomach twisted with anger.
I fought through the haze of pain, focusing on the photo that still lay on the ground, the image of Bethsheba and Sheba now marred by the darkness surrounding me. “Sheba believed in me,” I thought, recalling her soft laughter and the way she made me feel less alone. The memory surged through me like a lifeline, sparking a defiance that pushed back against the overwhelming despair.
“Do you think they care about you? You’re nothing to them,” Rain continued, his words like daggers aimed at my heart. “Once they realize who you are, they’ll turn away.”
I shook my head, refusing to accept the notion.
“They see me for who I am,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “Not what you want them to believe.” Despite the throbbing pain in my leg, I managed to hold Rain's gaze, unyielding.
Rain’s expression faltered, just for a moment, before he lunged forward again, his knife poised to strike once more.
“Let’s see how much resolve you have,” he snarled, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.
I inhaled sharply as Rain twisted the knife deeper, pain exploding in waves.
“I will fight,” I vowed silently, even as the world around me blurred.
I thought of Bethsheba's comforting presence, the warmth of friendship I cherished.
“I will fight for them. I won’t give up.”
Each breath felt like a battle, but within me grew a flicker of hope. The love I felt for Bethsheba and Sheba ignited a fire in my spirit.
“I am not just a pawn,” I declared, my voice rising above the pain. “I am Benissé Messenger, and I will not be defeated!”
Rain stepped back, momentarily taken aback by my fierce resolve.
“We’ll see about that,” he sneered, his amusement fading into a dark cloud of rage.
As he tightened his grip on the knife, I knew the true test of my strength was just beginning.
“I am not joking, Beni!” Rain roared, his voice reverberating in the damp air of the warehouse.
The intensity in his tone cut through the haze of pain clouding my mind. I was dizzy, my head spinning from the blood loss and the sharp agony coursing through my body. Yet, despite the fearsome look in his eyes, I felt an unexpected calm wash over me. I stared back at him, unwavering, refusing to show the dread building in my chest.
He was a tempest of fury, but I had faced worse storms.
“Tell me once again?” I added, my voice steady despite the heaviness that gripped my limbs.
The question hung in the air, taunting him, challenging him.
“For you to get this close, you must have friends, informants, and collaborators inside my organizations. I want their names.” Rain chuckled darkly, a sound that sent chills down my spine.
His laughter held no joy, only malice. I could see the glint in his eyes, a mixture of amusement and menace.
I was bound to the chair, but my mind raced with thoughts. The ropes biting into my wrists and ankles felt like chains, but I refused to let them bind my spirit. I focused on him, trying to gauge his next move.
With a swift motion, he handed me a piece of paper and a dark ink pen, the contrast of the white paper against the black ink stark in the gloom.
“Here,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Let’s see if you can provide me with something useful.”
I took the pen and paper, my fingers trembling slightly as I held them. The pen felt foreign in my hand, heavy with expectation. I could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me, like a thick fog shrouding my thoughts. I glanced down at the blank page, an empty canvas for the demands he had thrust upon me.
The flickering overhead light cast eerie shadows across the room, dancing menacingly along the walls. I could see the corners of the warehouse filled with darkness, secrets lurking just beyond the reach of light. The air was stale and damp, smelling of rust and mold, a testament to the neglect of the place. I was surrounded by memories of abandonment, a fitting backdrop for the desperation of my situation.
“Come on, Beni. I don’t have all night,” Rain urged, his impatience palpable.
I looked back at him, and at that moment, I saw a flicker of uncertainty behind his bravado. It was a crack in his facade, a glimpse of the man beneath the fury. I seized it.
“You think I’m just going to give up my friends? Just like that?” I challenged, my voice rising slightly.
I felt a rush of adrenaline, a surge of courage igniting within me. I couldn’t let him have the upper hand. Not now. Not ever.
Rain’s laughter echoed again, but this time it felt hollow.
“You’re underestimating how far I’m willing to go to get what I want.”
The words were laced with menace, each syllable heavy with threat.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My heart raced, the sound thundering in my ears. I needed to think clearly, to find a way out of this mess. The paper in front of me was a lifeline, a chance to gather my thoughts and make a plan.
As I focused on the paper, I could feel Rain’s gaze boring into me, scrutinizing every move. The ink pen felt like a weapon in my hand. I was crafting my escape, one careful word at a time.
“You think this is going to intimidate me?” I asked, my voice firmer now. “You think I’ll betray those I care about just because you ask nicely?”
I could see the tension in Rain’s jaw tighten, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
“Very well,” he replied, his tone shifting. “If you won’t give me names, then I’ll find a way to make you.”
His threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive.
I swallowed hard, the taste of fear bitter on my tongue. The warehouse felt smaller, the shadows closing in around me. I needed a distraction, something to shift the momentum in my favor.
With a swift movement, I scribbled a few words on the paper, not the names he sought but a plan of my own.
“You’re going to regret this,” I muttered under my breath, hoping he wouldn’t catch the glimmer of defiance in my eyes.
Rain stepped closer, leaning over me to get a better look.
“What are you writing?” he demanded, his voice low and threatening.
“Just a little something to keep me entertained,” I replied, a smirk creeping onto my face.
The tension in the air crackled, and for a moment, I could see the uncertainty flicker in Rain’s eyes. I was still here, still fighting, and I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I started writing their names with a smile after they set the paper down on the stool before me.
“Everyone?” I asked, my voice laced with feigned innocence.
Each name flowed from my mind, even as pain radiated from my legs, reminding me of my predicament. The ache was fierce, but adrenaline surged through my veins, dulling the sting for now.
I paused, looking up at Rain, whose expression morphed from annoyance to confusion. At that moment, I seized the opportunity. With a surge of determination, I pushed myself to stand, the chair tipping backward as I broke free from the restraints. My heart raced as I lunged forward, the pen gripped tightly in my hand. In one swift motion, I plunged it into Rain’s throat, my face inches from his as I watched the realization dawn in his eyes.
He squealed in pain, a sound of shock mingled with desperation. I could feel the rush of victory coursing through me, but I wasn’t done yet. With his face contorted in agony, he instinctively reached for his weapon. I had to act fast. I grabbed his hand, forcing it down to prevent him from shooting. We struggled, and with a powerful twist, I knocked him to the ground.
As he lay flat, gasping for breath, I turned my attention to the incoming men. The warehouse door burst open, and they flooded in like a wave, ready to avenge their leader. With my heart pounding, I opened fire with Rain’s weapon against them, the shots ringing out like thunder in the enclosed space.
“Fool! Do you think you can kill me with man-made weapons?” one of Rain’s men taunted, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.
I tightened my grip on the revolver, a silver glint catching my eye as I aimed it at him. The weapon fell right in my hands, heavy with promise.
“Sure, I can see that you can die, but let’s see if I can terminate you with my revolver,” I shot back, a smirk breaking through the tension.
The man’s bravado wavered, just for a moment, and that was all I needed.
With a deep breath, I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew straight, a silver streak cutting through the air. He wailed in pain, the sound echoing through the warehouse as he collapsed to the floor. I watched as the life drained from his eyes, his body crumpling into itself, turning to ashes before my gaze.
The chaos around me heightened, shouts and gunfire mingling into a cacophony of desperation. Rain’s men were scrambling, confusion setting in as they realized their leader was incapacitated. They had come for revenge, but I was no longer the prey. I was the hunter.
With each shot fired, my confidence grew. I maneuvered through the fray, taking cover behind a rusted barrel, the cool metal grounding me in chaos. My senses were heightened, every sound amplified as I listened for the scuffle of feet and the sharp intake of breath from my adversaries.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I called out, taunting them as I reloaded.
The revolver felt like an extension of my will, its weight reassuring in my grasp.
Another man charged at me, weapon raised, his face twisted in rage. I aimed and fired again, watching him falter as the bullet found its mark. He stumbled backward, disbelief painted across his features, before crumpling to the ground like the others.
I was on fire now, fueled by the thrill of survival. Each name I had written earlier felt like a promise, a reminder of those I would protect at any cost. They would not fall into the hands of men like Rain, and I would not let fear dictate my fate.
“Beni! Stop this madness!” Rain’s voice cut through the chaos, weak yet commanding.
He was struggling to get to his feet, the blood soaking his shirt as he glared at me.
“Madness? This is survival, Rain,” I shot back, steadying my aim at him. “And it’s your turn to face the consequences of your actions.”
I could feel the pulse of the world around me, every heartbeat echoing in sync with my own. I was alive. I was fierce. And I was not going to let this moment slip away. The warehouse, once a cage, had transformed into a battleground where I reclaimed my strength, my will, and my destiny.
With the others transformed into razor-sharp beasts, I felt an unexpected thrill rush through me. They had been mere men just moments ago, and now they were something else entirely—creatures driven by primal hunger, their eyes wild and frenzied. I could hardly believe the metamorphosis I was witnessing.
I stood my ground, my heart pounding as I prepared for the onslaught. One by one, I took them down without hesitation. They charged at me, teeth bared, their growls reverberating through the warehouse. But I was ready. Each shot rang out, a deafening echo that mingled with their cries of agony.
As they fell, I felt no remorse. The sound of their shrieks was music to my ears, a testament to my power in this twisted moment. The air thickened with the scent of smoke and blood, and their forms disintegrated into ashes, leaving nothing but silence in their wake.
“You seem foolish. Howdy down there!” I called to Rain, who lay on the floor, struggling to maintain his composure. “How are you kicking? Awesome, excellent, or marvelous?” I laughed, a dark satisfaction bubbling within me.
“Look at you,” I continued, leaning closer. “With a pen in your throat. It’s quite the view, don’t you think?” His eyes widened, a mixture of fear and fury etched across his face.
“Tell you the truth, Rain,” I said, lowering my voice to a menacing whisper, “never threaten my family ever again.”
The words dripped with venom, each syllable punctuating the promise of my retribution.
CHAPTER TWO
PIECES OF MY HEART
Rain stuttered, muttering something unintelligible as he grasped at the pen lodged in his throat. It was a feeble attempt to regain some control, but I wasn’t interested in mercy.
“How dare you threaten my best friend’s peaceful family!” I growled, my voice rising as fury coursed through me.
“Never try that again, am I understood?” I demanded, my gaze locked onto his.
There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a brief moment of understanding before I delivered the final blow.
With a swift motion, I unleashed my fury, and without mercy, I watched as he cried out in agony. His body trembled, and the flickering lights above us cast eerie shadows as he writhed on the floor. In one last, desperate act, he gasped, and a brilliant flash of light erupted from his mouth and eyes, illuminating the dark warehouse.
In an instant, he turned to ashes, consumed by the very darkness he had sought to control. I stood amidst the aftermath, panting heavily, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. The space around me felt both familiar and foreign, marked by the echoes of chaos and the fading whispers of their tormented cries.
The warehouse, once a prison, was now a graveyard of twisted remnants. I had faced my fears, battled the darkness, and emerged victorious. The thrill of survival washed over me, and in that moment, I knew I had reclaimed not just my life but my resolve to protect those I held dear.
As the ashes settled around me, I took a deep breath, ready to confront whatever lay ahead. The shadows whispered my name, but I would not shy away. I had become the hunter, and nothing would stand in my way. The fight was far from over, but I was prepared to face the next challenge.
I left Rain's ashes behind, the remnants of my rage smoldering in the dark warehouse. A sense of urgency surged within me as I remembered Sheba and her daughter, Patience. “Oh no, Sheba—Patience!” I shouted, panic lacing my voice.
I fumbled through my pockets until I found my cell phone. My hands shook as I dialed Bethsheba's number, desperation fueling my actions. When the call connected, it was Sheba who answered, her voice filled with urgency.
“Beni, it's about time you—?”
“Say what? —waah!” Her scream pierced through the line, cutting off any response I could muster.
My heart raced as I pictured her, fear consuming her as she darted through the dark hallway of their home.
“Sheba!” I shouted into the phone, but all I heard was the sound of her footsteps pounding against the floor, frantic and wild. “What’s happening?”
In my mind's eye, I saw her being flung backward, pinned by an unseen force. My stomach twisted at the thought of her being in danger, vulnerable and afraid. I had to get to them.
Bethsheba, dear Bethsheba. She had always been a faithful believer in Yahweh, but before finding her faith, she was a lost soul, wandering through the darkness of addiction. I remembered how she had come to me on that cold night, a knock echoing through my door. When I opened it, I found her standing there, shivering, a shadow of the vibrant woman I now knew.
She had stumbled through life, caught in the grasp of drugs and alcohol. But in that moment, I saw hope. I welcomed her in, offering food, warmth, and shelter.
“You’re safe now,” I had told her, wanting her to feel the love of Christ in my home.
At first, she had been hesitant to hear about God. I’d tried to share the Gospel, but she would turn away, lost in her world of pain. Then one day, while I was seated on the sofa, absorbed in my Bible, she asked what I was reading.
“This is God’s word,” I had replied, watching her interest spark like a flame.
She leaned in closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
“What does it say?”
I took a deep breath, realizing this was the moment.
“It speaks of love, redemption, and hope. It tells us that no matter how lost we are, we can always find our way back to Him.”
That conversation marked a turning point in her life. From that day on, I began to preach to her about the goodness and excellence of God. I watched in awe as Bethsheba’s life began to transform. She found solace in the Scriptures, her heart softening with each passing day. She turned her back on the darkness that once held her captive, slowly reclaiming her life, her dignity, and her faith.
But now, as I listened to the chaos erupting on the other end of the line, I feared for her safety.
“Sheba! Where are you?” I shouted again, the line crackling with tension.
I couldn’t waste another moment. I sprinted towards the exit of the warehouse, each step fueled by the urgency of protecting the two women I had grown to love. My mind raced with thoughts of what could be happening to them. I had to reach them before it was too late.
Images of Bethsheba’s transformation flashed through my mind—the day she first smiled again, the joy that radiated from her as she embraced her faith.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whispered to myself, determination igniting within me.
As I dashed through the streets, the world around me blurred. The fear for Sheba and Bethsheba clawed at my heart, urging me onward. I wouldn’t let them down. They had come so far, and now they needed me more than ever. I could almost hear their voices, calling for help, and with each echo, I quickened my pace.
“Hold on!” I shouted into the night, my voice slicing through the silence like a desperate plea.
The cold air bit at my lungs, but I channeled every ounce of strength within me, feeling my heart pound fiercely against my ribcage.
“I’m coming!” I yelled again, my words fueled by urgency and determination.
The faint glow of streetlights illuminated my path as I raced forward, each step a promise to Sheba and Patience. I could almost feel their fear, a tangible weight pressing against my chest, urging me to reach them before it was too late.
After thirteen years had passed, the father of a nobleman from the first colony of Curriculum Rim, England, arrived seeking the woman and her daughter. It felt like a lifetime since I had last seen them. Memories of those days drifted in and out of my mind like faded photographs. The laughter, the warmth—they were all distant echoes now. I remembered the day they had left my house. Their absence had created an emptiness that lingered like a haunting melody.
Since then, I had been living with the wealthiest lord’s wife, a woman who had longed for a child of her own. For twelve years, she had endured the ache of childlessness in a world where lineage meant everything. Her husband had adopted me when I was just a boy. I had stepped into their lives with hope, but my presence could never fill the void left by her unfulfilled dreams.
Yet, amidst this strange new life, I found myself grappling with a nightmare. My heart had been shattered by a noble fiancée; a woman I had thought would be my forever. The engagement had promised a future, but it crumbled early one morning, leaving me broken and terrified of love. I had sworn never to fall for anyone again, determined to shield myself from the pain.
But life has a way of interrupting our plans. It was the thirteen-year-old girl who had collapsed out of a bag on the advanced technology train that broke through my carefully constructed walls. Her unexpected arrival disrupted my hard-earned peace. Her presence ignited something in me, a flicker of hope that I had thought extinguished.
Curriculum Rim, England, is where I now reside. It was a marvel of advanced technology, a breathtaking anti-gravity land with seventeen thrones, each more magnificent than the last. At the center stood the colossal palace, a towering monument that connected all the colossal mansions and houses. Its star-shaped design glimmered under the sun, a testament to the ingenuity of its builders. The architecture was a blend of modern brilliance and classic elegance, with soaring spires and shimmering facades.
However, the beauty of Curriculum Rim belied the dangers lurking just beyond its borders. Outside the impenetrable golden shield, colossal sandworms burrowed through the wasteland sands. They were massive creatures, capable of sensing the faintest sound or slightest misstep. The thought of them sent shivers down my spine. They could swallow a person whole, leaving no trace behind.
Mogollon Rim, the last throne of all seventeen, was a small town in Curriculum Rim. It was known for its vibrant culture and the obsession of its people with decorating their houses in unimaginable lights, especially during holidays. Streets transformed into glowing tapestries of color, illuminating the dark sky. The air was filled with laughter and music, a celebration of life that I had come to cherish, even amidst my heartache.
Despite the lavishness surrounding me, I felt isolated. The opulence of the lord’s estate often suffocated me. The lavish parties, the extravagant dinners, and the endless expectations felt like a gilded cage. I found solace in the quiet corners of the grand house, stealing moments of solitude away from the prying eyes of society.
The nights were the hardest. As darkness enveloped the land, I would often gaze out of the tall windows, watching the lights twinkle like distant stars. I could feel the weight of my loneliness pressing down on me, a constant reminder of the connections I had lost. My thoughts drifted to the woman and her daughter. I wondered where they were, what they were doing, and if they remembered me.
The palace’s grandeur could not shield me from my memories. I recalled the laughter of the girl, her bright smile, and the comfort of her mother’s presence. They had been my anchor in a world that often felt chaotic and unforgiving.
The day the nobleman arrived marked a turning point. His presence stirred something deep within me. I could sense a change in the air, a ripple of anticipation and dread. Would he bring news of their whereabouts? Would he disrupt the fragile peace I had built in their absence?
As I stood there, caught between the past and the present, I felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this was not the end but a new beginning. A chance to reconnect, to find out what had become of the two who had once filled my life with joy. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever lay ahead.
In the distance, the colossal palace stood tall, a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty. I knew I had to embrace whatever came next. Whether it was heartbreak or healing, I was ready to face it head-on. After all, in a world as unpredictable as Curriculum Rim, anything was possible.
Later that night, after coming from my work as the Shadow Coats’ huntsman detective, I stepped into the colossal palace. The grand hallway, lined with portraits of long-gone ancestors, felt eerily quiet. Shadows danced on the walls, flickering in the candlelight, creating an unsettling ambiance. I could feel my heart racing, the thud echoing in my ears.
As I approached the door of my chamber, a sense of foreboding washed over me. It was as if the air had thickened, heavy with unspoken words and hidden truths. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, and trying to gather my thoughts. What awaited me behind that door? Little did I know, my worst nightmare was about to unfold.
I pushed open the door, and the sight that greeted me shattered my composure. The room was dimly lit, but the shadows couldn’t hide the heartbreaking scene before me. My fiancé stood there, locked in a tight embrace with my brother. Their laughter echoed off the walls, a mocking melody that twisted like a knife in my chest.
“Never mind, it seems as if we have been caught, my lord,” she snickered, her eyes glinting with mischief.
The words felt acidic, burning through the remnants of trust I had built. I struggled to process what I was witnessing. This was not the reunion I had imagined. My world tilted on its axis, and I could hardly breathe.
“What would you mind telling me what is going on? And what are you doing with my fiancé, brother?” I roared, my voice booming through the room, a mix of anger and disbelief.
I felt the heat rising in my chest, my fists clenching at my sides.
“Excuse you? Is this your fiancé? I do not know,” my brother replied, a smirk curling on his lips.
The audacity of his response only fueled my rage. I could hardly contain the storm brewing within me.
“Even worse, she just finds out that you are not the lord of this house. Nor did our father—.”
He cleared his throat, a mockery of authority that cut deeper than any sword.
The room spun around me, and I struggled to hold onto reality. My heart felt heavy, the weight of betrayal crashing down on me. My fiancé’s laughter rang hollow in my ears, a stark contrast to the love I thought we had shared. How could she betray me so easily? And my brother, the one I trusted most, standing there with a triumphant grin, made my blood boil.
“Do you think this is a game?” I spat, taking a step closer.
My voice was low, and dangerous, as I tried to regain control of the situation.
“You think you can just take what belongs to me without consequences?”
She stepped back, her bravado faltering for a moment.
“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You were never going to be lord of anything. We both knew that. It’s just a matter of time before everyone else finds out.”
Her words were like daggers, piercing through the facade I had carefully built around myself. I had thought I was invincible, but here I stood, vulnerable and exposed. The betrayal stung more than I had anticipated.
My brother chimed in, “Face it. You’ve always been the shadow, never the light. Why should she choose you when she could have me?”
His tone dripped with condescension as if he relished the pain he was inflicting.
I could feel my pulse quickening, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I had to keep my cool, to think strategically.
“You think you can just take her away from me without any repercussions?” I asked, my voice steady but simmering with fury.
“We’ll see who ends up with whom,” he shot back, crossing his arms defiantly.
The smugness on his face ignited a fire within me that I struggled to contain.
I couldn’t let this go unchallenged.
“You’re wrong if you think I’ll back down,” I declared, stepping forward with purpose. “This isn’t just about her. It’s about everything you’ve taken from me.”
“Taken from you?” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You never deserved any of this. You’re just a pawn in our game.”
I stood there, seething. The room felt like it was closing in on me, the walls echoing with the laughter of my brother and fiancé. I had to reclaim my dignity, to take back what was rightfully mine.
As they continued to mock me, I felt a surge of determination.
“You may think you’ve won tonight, but this is far from over. I will expose you both for what you truly are.”
With those words, I turned and stormed out of the room, each step fueled by a mix of betrayal and resolve. The echoes of their laughter faded behind me, but the fire ignited in my chest burned brighter than ever. I would not allow this betrayal to define me. I would rise from the ashes, stronger and more determined than they could ever imagine.
“My father did not leave a penny for you. Though I thought you were his favorite one. Such a pity to be ‘my so-called brother,’” Damascus shouted, his voice dripping with disdain.
Each word felt like a sharp dagger, aimed directly at my heart. The air between us crackled with tension, the weight of our shared history hanging heavy.
“May I remind you that you were adopted? We are not even related, Benissé.”
I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. I had never been ashamed of my adoption but hearing him throw it in my face felt like a betrayal of the worst kind.
“Damascus. Is that me you are talking to in that manner?” I gasped, incredulous at his audacity.
My fists clenched at my sides, the urge to retaliate growing stronger by the second.
“Should you tell me who you think you are? And what are you going to do, Benissé?” Damascus scoffed, a sneer curling his lips as if the mere thought of me standing up to him was laughable.
I could see the arrogance radiating off him as if he believed he was untouchable, above reproach.
“For your information, I am a lord,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing within me. “One more word from you, and I am going to put you where you belong.”
I couldn’t let him get under my skin, not now. Not when the stakes were so high.
He cackled, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room.
“You think you can intimidate me with your little threats? You’re nothing but a shadow, Benissé. A poor imitation of what a true lord should be.”
The mockery in his tone stung, but I refused to let him see how deeply his words affected me.
“Maybe so, but shadows can be more powerful than you realize,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm. “You underestimate what I am capable of.”
He leaned in closer, his smirk widening.
“Underestimate? You are a joke. Do you think because you have a title, you wield power? Titles mean nothing in the real world, brother.”
“I’ve earned my place here, Damascus,” I shot back, forcing myself to maintain eye contact. “And one day, you will answer for your actions. You can count on that.”
“Ha! Answer to you?” His laughter rang out, harsh and cold. “You’re living in a fantasy if you think anyone takes you seriously. I’ll enjoy watching you fail.”
The anger simmered beneath my skin, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “You may think this is all a game,” I said slowly, deliberately. “But I will not let you bully me or undermine my worth.”
The sneer on his face faltered for a brief moment, replaced by something akin to annoyance.
“You are deluded. You think you have the power to change anything?”
I stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking.
“I don’t need to change everything, just enough to expose you for who you truly are.”
“Expose me? With what? Your petty threats? Spare me, brother. You’re grasping at straws.” His confidence was unnerving, but I could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
“I have more than just words, Damascus,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper, laden with conviction. “I have allies, resources, and a determination you could never understand. You may have the title, but I have the heart.”
He stepped back, finally taken aback.
“Heart? You think that will win you anything in this world?”
“Yes,” I replied firmly. “Because when the time comes, it won’t be your wealth or your title that matters. It will be the connections I’ve made and the people I’ve stood beside.”
Damascus scoffed again, but I could see his bravado cracking.
“You’ll regret this, Benissé,” he spat, his voice low and threatening.
“I doubt it,” I said, standing tall, refusing to be intimidated any longer. “I’m not afraid of you or your empty threats. You’ll see just how wrong you are.”
With that, I remained in my chamber, rooted to the same spot as the confrontation simmered around me. I could feel the weight of his glare on my back, but I refused to turn and meet it. I had to stay focused on my path, no matter how dark it seemed. I had my plans, my allies, and a fire within me that would not be extinguished. I would not let Damascus or anyone else stand in my way.
CHAPTER THREE
QUEST OF NEVER RETURN
My eyes could not believe what my younger brother had done. The betrayal stung like ice in my veins. I had always thought we shared a bond that could weather any storm.
“Damascus? I am your only brother,” I cried out, the words tumbling from my lips in desperation.
The air felt thick with tension, heavy like an impending storm. I stood my ground, heart pounding, determined not to back down.
“No, I am the only heir to my father,” he snarled, his voice low and menacing. “It would be best if you got out of my palace, my land, and out of my face!”
His words cut deeper than any knife, and I could see the fire in his eyes—an unmistakable signal that he was serious. My mind raced, trying to comprehend how things had spiraled so far out of control.
“Mercy, Benissé, I was hoping to give this back,” she said, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness.
My eyes shifted to her as she held up a sparkling ring, its brilliance catching the dim light of the chamber. It glimmered like a beacon of all that I had lost.
“And perhaps you might find someone on your level to wear this ring. For crying out loud, I am a lady with a noble family.” She leaned closer, her breath warm against my skin as she whispered, “It would be best if I married someone with wealth.”
Her laughter rang out, mocking and cold, echoing through the vast chamber.
I felt my hands clench into fists at my sides, my heart racing in anger. I wanted to scream at them both, to shake them out of this delusion.
“You think this is just a game? A simple exchange of rings?” I shot back, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You’re toying with something far more precious than that!”
Damascus stepped forward, blocking my path as if he were a guardian of some twisted throne.
“What do you know of love and loyalty, Benissé? You’ve been living in my shadow for too long.”
His eyes were alight with a sense of victory, and I could see the glee in his expression. It made my stomach churn.
“You think I’d let you steal my birthright? This is my life, not yours!”
My pulse quickened.
“You were always jealous of me, weren’t you? Jealous of the love Father had for me, jealous of the way everyone looked up to me!”
I could see it in his face; he was seething, and yet a flicker of something—fear, perhaps—flashed across his features.
“You think casting me out will solve your problems? You’re wrong. I will not go quietly!”
She feigned innocence, placing a delicate hand over her heart.
“Oh, poor Benissé, your dramatics won’t work here. You’ve never understood the rules of this game.” She waved her hand dismissively as if swatting away an annoying fly. “We are no longer family. You have no place in our world.”
I took a step forward, feeling the heat of anger rising in my chest.
“You are family! Blood is thicker than water, or have you forgotten?” My voice was fierce, trembling with emotion. “You can’t just erase our history because it no longer suits you. I will fight for what’s mine!”
The shadows in the chamber seemed to deepen as tension crackled in the air. I was ready to confront whatever it took, to fight tooth and nail to reclaim my place in this family, in this palace. I would not back down; I could not. I glanced at the ring in her hand, a symbol of my brother’s betrayal and her ambition.
“That ring is a lie, just like your words. You wear it like a crown, but it will never make you noble.”
Damascus scoffed, crossing his arms as if he were judging a foolish play.
“You’re so naive, Benissé. Do you think this is about loyalty? This is survival. You’re just a shadow in the corner of this palace now.”
A chill ran down my spine as I felt the weight of their disdain. I would not allow them to reduce me to nothing. I stood tall, determination coursing through my veins.
“No, I am Benissé Messenger, and I will rise from the ashes of your betrayal. You may think you have won, but this fight is far from over.”
The tension crackled around us, and I knew at that moment that I would not let their laughter echo as my defeat. I would find a way to reclaim my life, my name, and my rightful place in this world.
“Athaliah, why? Would you tell me why you would do this? Our marriage is going to be tomorrow. My friends, their parents...everyone will laugh at me—!” My voice trembled with desperation, echoing in the cold, stark chamber that had once felt like home.
The opulence surrounding us seemed to mock my plight. The golden chandeliers hung high above, their brilliance contrasting sharply with the darkness enveloping my heart.
“This is not how it was meant to be!”
I paused, taking a shaky breath, attempting to gather my thoughts. How could she do this? How could she betray everything we had built together? I looked into her eyes, searching for an answer, but found only a steely resolve.
“Lord, did you summon us?” The guards’ voices broke through the thick tension, cold and formal.
They stood at the entrance, their expressions unreadable beneath the gleaming armor, swords at their sides, ready to carry out their orders.
I felt a surge of anger rise within me.
“No, I was just trying to understand—”
“Enough!” Damascus interjected, cutting me off with a dismissive wave of his hand.
His gaze turned to the guards, filled with a chilling authority.
“I beg of your men, escort this madman out of my property.”
The venom in his voice dripped like poison, and I could see a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He reveled in this moment, enjoying the power he wielded over me.
“Right away, milord,” they answered in unison, stepping forward as if to restrain me.
The sound of their armor clinking was like chains rattling in my ears. I took a step back, unwilling to let them take me without a fight.
“Damascus, you can’t do this!” I pleaded, desperation creeping into my tone. “This isn’t just about you. It’s about us! It’s about our future!”
The words spilled from my mouth; each one weighed with emotion.
But he simply scoffed, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
“Future? What future? Do you think this farce will last? She’ll be my wife tomorrow, not yours.”
The smugness in his voice cut deeper than any blade. I felt my chest tighten, my heart racing with a mixture of rage and heartbreak.
“Don’t do this,” I said, trying to reach him. “We can talk about this; we can find a way to fix it.”
I desperately scanned the room for any hint of understanding in his eyes, but there was none.
The guards stepped closer; their eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
“It’s best if you come with us, my lord,” one of them said, the authority in his voice unmistakable.
I turned back to Athaliah, searching her face for any sign of compassion.
“How can you stand there and let this happen? After everything?” My voice cracked, revealing the vulnerability I had fought so hard to keep hidden.
Her expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something—perhaps regret—before she hardened her gaze.
“You brought this on yourself. You should have known better than to think you could keep me. I’ve chosen my path, and you are no longer a part of it.”
The guards closed in, and I felt a rush of indignation and despair.
“This isn’t over! You’ll regret this!” I shouted, my words echoing against the walls of the grand chamber.
I could feel the weight of their laughter, an echo of derision that threatened to swallow me whole.
“Take him away,” Damascus ordered, his tone final.
I felt the tension in the room thicken as the guards stood at the threshold, their presence looming over me like dark clouds gathering before a storm. They exchanged glances, awaiting orders, but I remained rooted to the spot. I was not going anywhere.
“Don’t forget who you are!” I yelled, the words bursting forth in defiance. “You may have the ring, but I have the heart! This is a curse, not a blessing!”
My voice echoed off the gilded walls, resonating with the emotions I could no longer contain.
Damascus’s expression twisted into one of smug satisfaction, his confidence igniting my fury. I would not let him see me falter. I would not be reduced to a mere pawn in his game.
“You can take the ring, but you’ll never take my spirit!” I declared, every syllable laced with determination.
Athaliah stood there, her composure unshaken, a slight smirk dancing on her lips as if she reveled in my despair. I could feel the weight of her betrayal settling heavily on my chest, yet a spark of resilience flickered within me.
“I refuse to let this end here,” I said, my voice steadying as I focused on my resolve.
I would reclaim my place, confront this injustice, and fight for what was rightfully mine. I was not a forgotten shadow in my own story.
The guards remained still, their expressions unreadable, but I sensed they were waiting for Damascus to make a decision.
“You don’t own this palace or my heart, Damascus,” I added, my gaze unwavering. “You may have the ring, but I will find a way to break free from your grasp.”
The air crackled with tension, and at that moment, I felt the fire within me ignite, bright and unyielding. I would rise from this betrayal, stronger and more determined than ever before. The night might be dark, but I refused to let it extinguish my spirit. My resolve was unshakeable.
“I will not be silenced. This is not the end of my story,” I vowed, my heart pounding with renewed purpose.
The chamber around me, with its lavish decor and oppressive atmosphere, became a catalyst for my determination. No matter how deep the betrayal cut, I would not be defeated.
I stood firm, unwavering, as the realization settled in. I would find a way to reclaim my place in this world, to fight against the tide that threatened to sweep me away. I would navigate this labyrinth of treachery and deceit, fueled by the fire that burned brightly within me. The future was still mine to shape, and I would not allow anyone, least of all Damascus, to dictate its course.
“No need to worry, Damascus, my little boy. And besides—!” I seethed, my hands trembling as I took the expensive ring from Athaliah’s hands.
Without a second thought, I cast it into the crackling fire nearby, watching the flames consume the symbol of betrayal.
“Never will I fall in love with an Englishwoman. Never!”
The words slipped out, each one weighted with heartbreak and defiance. I could feel my voice break, the strength I had tried to muster crumbling.
“Out of my sight, brother!” Damascus demanded, his voice cold and unyielding.
His gaze bore into me, sharp and dismissive, as if I were nothing more than a passing shadow. My eyes stung as tears blurred my vision, but I forced myself to hold his stare, if only for a moment longer.
I turned, my footsteps heavy as I paced out of the room. The guards stood waiting, impassive but resolute, and without a word, they fell in step beside me. Their grip on my arms was firm, yet not harsh, as they escorted me through the grand corridors of the palace I had once called home.
Outside, the air was thick with the weight of the night. The darkness seemed to swallow me whole as the chill settled over the landscape. One of the guards hesitated, casting a sympathetic glance my way.
“Forgive us, milord. We are only following orders,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “Hope to see you in the future.”
I managed a faint nod, the ache in my chest dulling only slightly.
“Um, thank you for your concern, men, but I will be fine.” My voice was steadier than I felt, and the guard nodded respectfully before he and his companions returned to their post at the entrance.
Left alone, I stood in the darkness, the silence pressing down around me. I looked back at the mansion that loomed behind me, a silhouette against the moonlit sky, its grandeur, and warmth now feeling foreign and distant. This place had once been my sanctuary, a symbol of security and belonging. Now, it was a reminder of all that had been stripped away.
I turned my gaze to the zigzagging narrow path that wound through the woods. The trail seemed endless, stretching into the night, each twist and turn swallowed by shadows. For a moment, the weight of my loss settled over me, pulling me down like an anchor. The thought of setting foot on that path felt like stepping into the unknown, a journey into the wilderness both outside and within.
But there was no turning back. I took a deep breath, letting the crisp night air fill my lungs, grounding myself in the present. One step forward, then another. I moved toward the darkened path, the echo of my footsteps fading as I left the palace behind. Each step carried me further from the life I had known, the dreams I had cherished, and the betrayal I could still feel like a wound.
In the solitude of the night, I felt something shift within me. The despair lingered, but beneath it, a spark of determination ignited, small but unyielding. I would survive this. I would reclaim my strength, and rebuild from the ruins Damascus and Athaliah had left behind. This was not the end, only the beginning of a new chapter.
The wind whispered through the trees, its cool breath weaving between the twisted branches, carrying with it a sense of both finality and promise. Leaves rustled like ancient secrets, their whispers merging with the soft creaks of the forest as if the trees themselves mourned the night's events. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, grounding yet haunting, filling the silence that stretched around me. Somewhere in the darkness, an owl hooted, its call low and mournful, a fitting echo for the ache within my chest. As the path before me stretched into shadow, the night seemed to offer a silent vow—of trials ahead, but also the faintest glimmer of hope, waiting just beyond the horizon.
My breaths fogged in the cold night air as I moved forward, leaving the colossal palace shrinking in the distance behind me. I felt its towering presence fading with each step, its lights dimming as shadows crept in to claim it. I inhaled deeply, the brisk air stinging my lungs, grounding me, though my mind churned with everything that had just happened.
My coat—a luxurious khaki piece I took great pride in—was smeared with dirt and remnants of the betrayal I had just faced. I couldn’t stand the sight of it now, not with the memories clinging to every stain and crease. At the Shadow Coats Headquarters, I would wash it. For tonight, I only wore a thick, heavy hooded coat, woven from three different shades of dark fabric that blended into the night. On my chest, the badge with “Shadow Coats” inscribed in bold golden letters was the only thing that stood out—a mark of who I was now. Beneath it, a red sweater offered warmth, while my khaki pants and winter-black boots kept the chill at bay.
My hands tightened in my coat pockets as I walked, feeling the weight of the night settle over me. The night air bit at my face, but I didn’t mind. My body was lean, wiry, conditioned by the rigorous training my adoptive father had insisted on.
"Survival in the worst situations," he’d said, over and over.
Even now, his voice echoed in my head, a reminder of the grueling hours spent honing every movement, every reaction.
A twig snapped underfoot, and I halted, my senses sharpened, honed by years of relentless training. Instinctively, my posture shifted, body alert. But the darkness around me was empty, save for the faint rustle of wind through the trees. I pushed forward, each step deliberating, feeling the rough path beneath my feet as I ventured deeper into the quiet landscape, where the ground sloped slightly, guiding me into the wooded path leading away from the palace grounds.
The trees loomed taller the further I went, their branches intertwining above me like skeletal arms stretching toward the heavens. Moonlight filtered through thin, silvery streams, casting a faint glow on the path ahead. Shadows danced around me, shifting with every step, as if they had lives of their own, clinging to me as silent companions on this lonely journey.
My gaze dropped to the badge pinned to my chest, its bold letters catching the occasional glint of moonlight. “Shadow Coats.” A title I wore with pride and duty, though the weight of it seemed heavier tonight. The coat was an emblem of protection, of honor among those who understood the perils of the night. It was more than just clothing; it was a second skin, a reminder of the purpose I carried, even now, in the face of everything I'd lost.
Ahead, the path twisted and narrowed, funneling me into the deeper shadows. I could feel the rough fabric of my coat brushing against my neck, the cool metal of the badge pressing against my chest with each breath. My adoptive father had seen to it that I never faltered in discipline or focus. Every step, every punch, every calculated movement drilled into me through hours of practice. It made me resilient, perhaps even cold, but tonight, I was grateful for it. I straightened, shoulders set against the night.
As I moved through the forest, I could hear the faint hum of life around me. An owl called out in the distance, it's low, echoing hoot filling the silence with a reminder of solitude. The undergrowth crackled with unseen creatures scurrying beneath the cover of darkness, each sound blending into a symphony of the wild that had grown so familiar to me over the years.
I found myself pausing at a clearing, taking a moment to look up at the vast sky stretched out overhead. Stars dotted the night like scattered shards of broken glass, cold and distant yet unwavering. For a moment, I stood still, letting the chill of the night settle into my bones, grounding me in a way that the warmth of the palace walls never had.
I reached up, pulling the hood lower over my face, the coarse fabric scratching against my skin. The night was my element, the shadows my only allies now. They wrapped around me like a cloak, concealing me from prying eyes, and shielding me from the memories that threatened to surface with each passing second.
In the solitude of the forest, I felt the weight of my resilience settles over me. This was what I was trained for—surviving in the worst situations. This night, stripped of everything familiar and thrust into a world of darkness and betrayal, was nothing compared to what I had been through before. I took another steadying breath, watching the mist escape my lips, and pushed forward, deeper into the unknown, where only shadows would bear witness to the journey ahead.
I walked with a newfound resolve, knowing that beyond this forest, my life would be mine to reclaim. The night had stripped me down to my barest self, yet the darkness felt less like an enemy and more like a promise—a whisper of things to come.
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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 17.10.2023
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