Chapter 51: Deciding His Fate 1

Chapter 51: Deciding His Fate 1"Just who the hell is that?" Remi asked, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at Lucifer, who lay motionless on the bed.

The mark on his neck where Vina bit him was nasty — black veins crawling out from it, the skin around it rotting like an infection spreading fast.

"She’s a demon... and a werewolf," Temmy said quietly, dabbing a cloth on Ruka’s bruised face as he sat slumped nearby.

"A Demon Wolf. Probably from a top demon family. And her werewolf blood isn’t normal either. She’s basically a war machine when she fights."

"Tch," Remu clicked her tongue, glaring around the room. Her gaze landed on Mob, then on Ruka, her irritation growing.

"Is everyone just half something these days? Can’t anyone be normal anymore?"

"That’s not what you should be worried about," Temmy said, shooting her a sharp look.

She folded the blood-stained cloth and turned to Mob, who was leaning against the wall, arms folded.

"Those siblings — Vina and the others — now that they know Ruka’s here... our whole plan’s gonna be delayed. So... I’m going to trouble you to let us stay here until Lucifer recovers."

Mob shrugged lazily, like it didn’t matter to him either way.

"Fine. Just don’t wreck my place," he said.



A heavy silence hung in the room.

"What if he doesn’t wake up?" Francisca said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She sat at Lucifer’s bedside, staring at him with a pale face.

"A werewolf’s bite... to a vampire... it’s fatal. No cure. Never has been."

Everyone went quiet again.

Then—

"Hah!" Remu let out a bark of laughter, breaking the tension.

She threw her head back, laughing louder than necessary.

"If he croaks, good riddance! I’m sick of breathing the same air as that bastard anyway. Maybe I’ll finally get some peace when he’s six feet under!"

The words hit like a slap.

Francisca’s chair scraped loudly as she stood up, fists clenched tight at her sides.

Her eyes, burning with anger, locked onto Remu.

"You—!"

The room tensed up instantly.

Mob shifted slightly, watching.

Ella’s hand drifted toward her sword without thinking.

Ruka, still weak, barely managed to lift his head, watching the scene unfold with dull eyes.

Francisca took a step toward Remu, her whole body shaking — from rage or grief, it wasn’t clear.

Remu just smirked, tilting her head mockingly.

"What, you gonna cry about it? It’s not my fault your precious vampire boy can’t handle a little dog bite."

Francisca’s hands lit up with a faint crackle of energy, but Temmy stepped between them quickly, holding her arms out.

"Enough," Temmy said sharply, her tone cold enough to freeze the air.

Francisca glared at Remu one last time, then spun around and sat back down beside Lucifer, her breathing shaky.

Remu just scoffed and turned away, flipping her hair over her shoulder like none of it mattered to her.

The tension didn’t leave the room. It just sat there, heavy and bitter.

Outside the small cracked window, the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with bruised colors — deep purple and bloody red.

Inside, the silence pressed down on all of them.

Lucifer’s shallow breaths were the only sound.

And the dark, rotten veins crawling across his body... kept spreading.

"Lucifer’s gonna survive," Temmy said, her voice steady as she wrung out the bloodied cloth in her hands.

"Don’t ask me how... just trust him."

The room stayed heavy, the only sound was the slow ticking of the wall clock and Lucifer’s weak breathing.

Remu clicked her tongue, clearly unimpressed. She leaned back on the couch, tossing a small apple up and down in her hand.

"Yeah, right," she sneered. "Trust him? The guy can’t even handle a puppy bite. What’s next? Gonna cry if someone steps on his cape?"

Ella looked up sharply from where she was checking Ruka’s bandages, frowning.

Francisca’s hands balled into fists again, her knuckles white.

Mob, who had been silent till now, finally pushed himself off the wall and stalked toward Remu, his face darkening.

"That’s enough, Remu," he said, his voice low but firm.



Remu stopped tossing the apple and raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What? It’s not my fault he’s weak. If he dies, he dies. It’s not like I pushed him into the dog’s mouth."

Mob’s eyes narrowed.

"You think you’re funny? Spitting on someone who’s fighting for his life? You’re just running your mouth while others are trying to save him."

"Tch," Remu scoffed, sitting up. "So now I’m the villain for telling the truth? Gimme a break."

"You are being a villain," Ella said sharply without even looking at her.

Francisca didn’t even bother hiding her glare anymore.

"Shut up already, Remu."

Even Ruka, bruised and barely conscious, managed to mutter under his breath, "Just leave if you’re gonna be like that..."

Remu’s smirk dropped.

She looked around — no one, no one was on her side.

The apple hit the floor with a dull thud as she stood up abruptly.

"Fine! I don’t need to sit around and babysit some half-dead bloodsucker anyway!" she snapped.

"You all wanna play hero? Be my guest!"

With that, she stormed out of the living room, her footsteps heavy and angry against the wooden floor.

The door slammed behind her, rattling the whole house.

The silence that followed was almost louder than her shouting.

Mob ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath.

"Good riddance," Francisca muttered under her breath, turning her focus back to Lucifer.

Outside, the wind howled against the windows.

Inside, they all knew... the real fight hadn’t even begun yet.

Remu stormed down the hallway, boots slamming against the old wood, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

"Idiots," she muttered under her breath. "Bunch of self-righteous fools. Acting like I’m the bad guy for speaking the damn truth."

She kicked open the front door and stepped outside. The wind slapped her face instantly, carrying a coldness that hadn’t been there before — sharper, biting. It wasn’t just the normal chill of evening.

The sky above was a canvas of bleeding red and bruised purple, the clouds swirling like wounded beasts. The dying light painted everything in long, jagged shadows.

Remu paced across the porch, still seething.

"Lucifer this, Lucifer that," she snarled, voice low. "Like he’s some goddamn saint. If he’s so strong, he wouldn’t be rotting like a corpse right now."

The air around her grew even colder, unnaturally so. Her breath began to fog in front of her face. She stopped, frowning.

"What the...?" she muttered, glancing around.

That’s when she heard it — a voice.

It came from nowhere. And everywhere.

A soft whisper that seemed to slither across the wind, curling into her ears.

"You don’t belong with them."

Remu froze.

Her heart thudded in her chest, instinct telling her to run, but her pride rooted her feet to the ground.

"Who’s there?" she barked, spinning around. Nothing. No one.

Only the growing cold and the creeping shadows.

"They hate you."

"They’ll never see your worth."



"Join me."

The voice was deeper now, smooth and dripping with a sinister promise. It felt like it brushed the inside of her skull, bypassing her ears entirely.

Remu’s fists trembled, more from anger than fear.

"I’m not some weakling to be lured in by spooky whispers," she snapped into the empty air. "Come out and face me if you’re so desperate."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then— a dark chuckle, rolling through the mist like thunder.

"You have anger. Strength. Potential they fear."

"I can give you the power to make them all bow."

The shadows at the edge of the porch seemed to pulse and shift, growing thicker, almost alive.

Remu’s heart pounded harder. She gritted her teeth.

"I don’t need anyone," she hissed. "Not them. Not you. I’ll prove it myself."

"No," the voice crooned. "You need me. And I will be waiting, Remu. When your hate finally swallows you... you will seek me out."