A HEART AS DARK AS MINE caos caliban x oc

betrayer (edited)

Only those we trust can betray us. That's what makes it hurt.

But this was not a betrayal. Or that was what he told himself, at least. She would forgive him, in time.

"Do not allow your new-found...affections for my daughter to get in the way of what it is you want, Caliban. What you truly want."

He cast the Dark Lord a knowing glance. "You won't harm her."

"I won't,"

"Swear it to me," Caliban murmured, "Swear it."

He chuckled, a wicked, humourless sound that may have made any lesser demon writhe with fear. Caliban hated the bastard, but if working with him was what he had to do, so be it. He looked forward to the day Sera would kill him, and be rid of his imposter of a son too. "I swear."

Caliban cast a glance down at the box in his hands, it was worn and weathered by age, and he thought of the binds inside. Handcuffs forged of Damascus steel. The only things strong enough to render a being of infernal or celestial power utterly defenceless. Even if they'd taken an amplifier.

Sera would forgive him, in time. She had to. If anyone would understand his motives, the things that he would do for that throne, for the enslavement of the Mortal Realm, it would be her.

She was as ruthless and power hungry as he was, and if only she could forget her ties to the mortal realm, if only she could leave it behind; she would be a magnificent queen. A queen of all ten circles.

"You do not wish her harm, Caliban, yet you agreed to help me to bind her and destroy her home." Lucifer chuckled, "You are just delightful,"

The prince scowled, and vanished in a whirl of flame.

When the fire faded, he was deep underground. The tunnels that he found himself within were entirely submerged in darkness, and so he lit a small ball of flame in his palm, casting flickering amber shadows up the jagged stone walls. The caves were a fitting place to keep an infernal legion. Eerie enough too.

Caliban could almost feel her presence in those tunnels, amplified by what she had taken. He could feel her power, pulsing in every jagged curve of stone, every breath of air.

He followed the feeling, the warmth tugging in his chest leading him deeper into the darkness, but closer towards her light.

꧁꧂

The power was all-consuming.

She could feel it in her blood. In her head, her heart. It was everywhere. In every fibre of the world around her, every inch of it.

Eyes closed, Sera raised a hand into the darkness, pulling at the very fabrics of reality, she could feel them, slipping away beneath her fingers, opening and tearing and melting into something entirely new.

She could practically taste the pulsating magic in the air, the sharp, wicked tears in the cave around her.

The hiss of the legions did little to distract her. They were thirsty for bloodshed, and so we she. But Sera didn't crave the death that they seeked. She did not want mortals and witches and innocents to suffer. Only sinners. Only her father. Only those angels.

Her skin tingled with the thought of their blood, the promise of wicked, unyielding vengeance.

Death would be slow. And when it finally, finally came, oh how they would beg, how they would cry. They would beg for the numb blackness of death, just as she once had, and when it finally, finally came, it would be a relief. A small kindness.