CUPID'S DARN CURSE.

🦋 CATALINA 🦋

“Just in, the Outlaws are at it again. Six people were found brutally killed on the outskirts of Lion's City this morning.”

I throw my gaze towards the television screen from the kitchen, where I am trying so hard to prepare spaghetti for dinner.

The television screen displays a blurry picture of the scene that happened this morning. Two dead men and four dead women were lying naked on the ground, with their stomachs torn open, the small intestine, large intestine, and then the body organs like the kidneys and livers were pulled out. Some parts of their sense organs, such as the eyes, ears, tongue, and nose, are also carved out. Finally, their chest is divided into two, revealing the contents inside, including their lungs, ribcage, and hearts, which are no longer beating. And these people all have bite marks on them.

I gag and rush past the sitting room towards the toilet, my stomach churning and twisting in disgust, barely making it before the contents of my stomach come rushing up and I empty it into the toilet bowl, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

The picture of the scene is blurred, but it is enough to drive me insane. The bloody scene and the supposed hidden part of humanity is out in the wild, who the insane fuck would have done that?

“Damn this crazy city!” I curse.

In Lion’s city, we have two grouped headaches that are really making our lives terrible, uninhabitable. We live in fear of death, that one day it will be our turn to die, most especially when we fall into the wrong hands.

One is the ‘Asmodeus’s heirs’. They are like the guards in Squid Game, but they don’t kill or draw blood unless it’s completely necessary or they are forced to. They only do things that are beneficial to them, like stealing. They are thieves, and they will only kill you when you refuse to give them what they came for—and Asmodeus’s heirs dress in all red.

Then we have the ‘Lucifer’s heirs’. This set of squad rocks the colour black, and they are the most dangerous of both squads. They enjoy it all; all they do is harm people most unimaginably, in addition to other terrible things like killing that they do.

Just pray hard that you never come face-to-face with Lucifer’s heirs because you wouldn’t be living to tell the story, nor would you die a painless death.

We don’t know their faces, and we can only differentiate them by colour.

Both squads are sworn enemies, and together we refer to them as ‘The Outlaws’.

Walking back into the sitting room, I stare at the television screen as the news with the headline, “The Outlaws”, continues.

“The SWAT claims to have fixed their eyes on the criminals and is currently in pursuit of arresting them as they fled the scene. They are six in number, and this here is the picture of the squad leader,” the reporter states and uploads a picture of a tattooed man in a black mask, black singlet, and black jean pants, looking straight into the camera with five men behind him.

My heart skipped a beat as I stared into those heterochromic, piercing blue and green eyes.

He has a mask on, and only his green and blue, differently coloured eyes and his thick, black, clean brows can be seen, but that alone is enough to keep my gaze fixed on the screen.

“The SWAT also further stated that the squad had separated due to the pursuit, but were still hiding in the city walls. It's only a matter of time until they fish them out because, unlike the other times, they are really close to finding them this time. This is a direct warning to the resident living in Lion's City to please stay indoors, double-check and make sure your doors and windows are shut, and do not leave your home until SWAT says so. This is a perilous time; remember, if you find anything suspicious, call the emergency number and they will be ready to help you.”

I tune the news to background noise and simply gawk at the picture of the said squad leader, which is still displaying on the TV screen. Lost in the weird connection I have with the picture, I felt attached, compelled, and lured, until the smell of something burning in the kitchen elbowed me back to reality.

“Damnit!” I growl.

Taking the remote control, I turn the TV off and rush towards the kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen, I found that the spaghetti I had been preparing was completely burnt, and smoke covered the entire kitchen.

Panicking, I throw the windows open to let the smoke escape as coughs rip out of my lungs, my throat tightening until tears begin to fall.

I run out of the kitchen to save my dear life when my stomach cries out in hunger.

I wrap my arms around it, checking the time on the wall, and it is almost midnight.

“That was all I had to eat tonight,” I whisper to myself, staring at the kitchen I almost burnt down a few minutes ago because of a fucking picture, and sigh in frustration.

🦋

Tossing and turning on the bed, with my stomach growling loudly. The hunger pangs become intense, and I start to feel a bit lightheaded.

I roll from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seems to work. My mind is fixated on finding something to eat, making me feel restless and irritable.

As I roll around, my sheets get tangled, and my blankets slip off. But I'm too hungry to care about the mess; I just want to find relief from this gnawing sensation.

Finally, I throw off the covers and head out of the house. If I don’t have anything in the kitchen, I should at least buy something and save myself from dying of hunger.

I cautiously approach the gate and peek outside, scanning the surroundings for any signs of potential danger or unusual activity. I check for passing pedestrians, vehicles, and any other factors that might impact my safety.

As I peer out, I assess the situation, weighing the risks and considering whether it's safe to step out, but there isn't anything or anyone in sight except the distant cry of police sirens and thick darkness.

Slowly, I unlock the gate and swing it open, which is the biggest mistake of my life.

There he is, blending in the darkness like he was one with the darkness, but his eyes couldn't hide, and I didn't miss it. That heterochromia blue and green eyes I saw on the screen earlier, the squad leader.

To be precise, the squad leader of the all gloriously dangerous fucking Lucifer’s heir.

He has blood on him, all over him, his eyes were bloodshot, one that screams hunger for blood, it isn’t adorable as the one I see in movies. He is desperate to kill, and I’m so not interested in being a hunted rabbit.

His arms are covered in tattoos, but that didn’t hide his white and pale skin, one that doesn’t look… alive.

Emotions swirl inside me like a storm as my eyes widen in terror. Fear grips my heart, making it pound in my chest.

I take two steps back instinctively; it is like he is there, waiting for me to dig my own grave, and I did, without being forced or told.

My heart skips a beat, my breath quickens, and my mind screams danger. I was trembling while standing, and I could barely swallow the lump in my throat. If only I could go back in time, I’d just sleep hungry. This is a mistake, a terrible mistake.

He looks at me like he is about to tear me into pieces, like he is looking straight inside me, like he can see every organ and read my mind, there is this smirk on his face, a devilish one, one that screams horror, one that is indirectly telling me, “You have nowhere to run to, no one is going to save you.”

Fuck Catalina… your bad luck follows you everywhere!

Run.

Run for your dear life.

Run, he’s dangerous.

Too dangerous.

Most of all, he is the squad leader of Lucifer’s heir, the most dangerous, demonic creature in flesh.

But something keeps me standing there, that messed-up, demonic connection I was warned about.

I don’t know what gets over me. I know I’m supposed to be running; my mind, soul, and brain scream to flee, even though my body feels trapped.

And as an unlucky fool that I am, I open my gate wide for him to walk in.

I let the devil in, and he looks like he’s going to kill me.