Her Fated Haunting (Mad Protector Series #2)

~Chapter 3~

AN: Hello, wonderful people! Here is another update, I admit, it was a bit hard to write it, but you guys gave me all the much needed motivation to finish it. I hope you like it. It turned out darker than expected. >.>

Love,

Fearsome Hamster

The circle.

The one isolating the demon from escaping.

It was gone.

Desperation and disbelief battled a war over her sanity. Elyse inched her hand to verify what her subconscious already knew. The white chalk drawing had been viciously rubbed off, in its place black claw marks. Marks too deeply indented in the stone floor to have been left by a mere human. When her trembling fingers touched the ground, she yelped. The imprints were scorchingly hot.

This could not be happening. The demon had broken free.

She whipped her eyes around the basement. No sign of Rosanna and the girls. No sound at all. Everything was pitch black. An abysmal darkness that was swirling madly saturated the chamber with a flagrance of burnt cinnamon.

"Rosanna! Marcella! Xonia!" she yelled, hoping against hope someone, anyone was alive. She called a few more times. However, only foreboding silence met her screams.

She had to get some help. Elyse refused to think that it was too late for them. Her tormentors might have done terrible deeds to her in the past, but they certainly did not deserve this gruesome end–to die at the hands of a demon. The image of the helpless young girl participating in tonight's ritual spurred her into action.

Finding her crutches in the darkness soon proved a pointless task. She abandoned them and blindingly limped her way to the flight of stairs. It was an arduous task climbing without light to guide her. And the entrance door was still a long way up. The stone pressed harshly on her knees. The smell of cinnamon was starting to suffocate her.

"Stop."

The smooth baritone was achingly familiar. Her dream man, the demon she corrected, was near.

Panic gripped her. Her movements became jerky. In her struggle to escape, she missed a step and slid painfully. Her already crippled knee took the brunt of the fall. Strong wind began beating in the basement, perhaps the demon's temperament causing the unnatural phenomenon.

"Humans are fragile, Mistress." The voice admonished, superiority clearly lacing the tone.

She ignored him. With a hand on her hurt leg, she fought to continue her climb despite the harsh wind blowing her locks in every direction. She spit out a wayward curl of hair and trudged on. All of a sudden, the breeze morphed into a violent tempest. Elyse could hear all the once carefully stored aliments flying around and smashing angrily on the basement's walls. The storm also ceased any movement on her part. It was a testament of Azrael's power and fury.

"You are only prolonging the inevitable," he thundered. She weakly curled into a ball, protecting herself both from the merciless wind and his escalating madness.

Elyse sobbed. As quickly as it had started, the storm stopped. Although darkness still ruled, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. Her bubble of ignorance burst. The demon was real. She had to face him, her experience told her he was not a creature of patience.

Cheeks still wet with tears, she called: "Show yourself, demon."

As if governed by dark magic, the torches lining the walls lit to life, one by one, finally revealing her living nightmare. Instead of infernal black mist, it was another kind of devil that greeted her eyes. One as deceivingly handsome as an angel.