《Nephilim: New World Apocalypse》 Chapter I It was the 22nd of January, in the year 1901: incidentally, the exact day of Queen Victoria''s death. The first official sighting of a giant, unknown structure situated on the remote Caribbean Isle of Perdition¡ªsaid to resemble a stone pillar¡ªwas recorded in the logbook of a crew of Spanish rum-shippers. Standing at a full height of over fifty stories tall, it dominated the skyline for miles in each direction as well as the imaginations of those who beheld it; as soon after, a number of strange reports from the local islanders came flooding in: Corpses of "monstrous," previously unidentified species of animal being found tangled in their fishing nets and washed ashore onto beaches in the surrounding area. A type of creature described as "miniscule goblin-men, flitting about on bone-drawn wings" would swarm the skies in a droning cacophony of high-pitched shrieks and squeals, from the early evening until nightfall, in such incredible numbers as to eclipse the setting sun in a solid wall of black. Hulking grim-faced goliaths would sometimes be glimpsed stalking the shores and outer jungles, seeming to patrol the place. Such bizarre accounts left even the most prominent naturalists of the era stumped for answers: gradually making their way to the front page of the major old world newspapers; albeit moreso as a thing of curiosity, with a large amount of blame for these happenings being pointed to so-called "African voodoo. The situation would not remain so easily dismissed for long, however, as the true violent natures of these new inhabitants of the sky and of the deep became known in their increasing attacks against people. Why, it was even said that a swarm of the aforementioned winged folk¡ªwhich began to be referred to as ''devil imps''¡ªcould pick a horse or a man clean to the bone, within mere seconds! Yet most would not dare to venture to the island to investigate: believing the strange gate to be the source of this activity, and those who did would never be heard from again. Eventually, a major expedition backed by the French monarchy was sent to the island, but it too vanished without a trace: an incident that finally caused a great stir across the globe once it became known to the public, with many toting it as a surefire sign of the approaching end times. It was during this period, marked by growing fear and uncertainty of how to approach the issue...that we find a British Royal Navy Admiral loathe to meet with a certain prominent Italian occultist in his ship''s cabin. "You are here because the situation has grown dire. There is no end to the presence of the fiends in sight, and it is beginning to have an adverse effect on our nation''s trade routes," the admiral explained: "Science has failed to provide us with solutions, so now we must resort to calling upon the services of"¡ªhe clicked his teeth, enunciating the following with clear disdain: "your wretched ilk, of gypsies and soothsayers." Such was the briefing, if you could call it that, which was provided to Gabriella Rizzo following the long and uneventful voyage from London to Perdition, located in the Lesser Antilles chain; just before being promptly ejected onto a rowboat, to travel the remainder of the way to the shore. She was greatly relieved to be away from the stuffy-aired crew, inside nature: The seas were calm that day, and the breeze was amicable. The sky was tinted orange with the setting sun, though there was no sight of the dreaded sun-blotting flocks of ''devil imps'' Rizzo had heard the most fussing about. Seated across from her was the lone redshirted naval officer tasked with the arduous work of rowing the boat to shore, casting the occasional darting, bashful glance in Rizzo''s direction: to which she would respond with some small gesture like a teasing flutter of her perfectly curled eyelashes, or deceitful drop of her parasol. However, to fully describe the appearance of Gabriella Rizzo¡­ Attempting so is to embrace one''s limitations: as they try, hopelessly, to paint a picture of a being of such divinely magnificent beauty the likes of which is seldom seen within the world of mortals. The Italian bore an uncommonly graceful, androgynous appearance: being slender and petite with long flowing curls of dark hair, flawless alabaster pale skin and a smooth, angelic face. Wherever she walked, he was trailed by a wafting aura of sweet-smelling perfumes, wearing a matching frilled pink bonnet and dress with white stockings. Everywhere she went, Rizzo knew she attracted the eyes and hearts of men and women alike. Secretly, it was something like a game to her: She liked to hold a person''s still-beating heart in her hand, pause and savor it a while, then crush it before their very eyes.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Joining Gabriella Rizzo, was the dutiful redheaded and bespectacled, strongly Irish and bookish Ms. Luella Lafferty: an intellectually nubile, if not naively adventurous acolyte of Rizzo''s school of occultism in Venice. Who bore the austere, distinctly temperamentally stern aura of an old regretful hag, in spite of her youth. Being the more logical of the two, she hadn''t placed much stock in the fantastical accounts of demons in the New World. That is, until first laying her eyes upon it: Like the legendary Tower of Babel, the great pillar craned high over the dense jungle canopy of Perdition, reaching endlessly far above the clouds. A tremendous pillar of stone, carved in intricate mezoamerican patterns, it dared all attempts at reason with its thus far impermeable aura of unnatural mystery. Its mere existence raised countless questions: What was it? Where did it come from? How could something such a massive structure suddenly appear out of nowhere? And who¡ªor what¡ªcould have designed and built it? Using what materials and equipment? Furthermore, what could be its intended purpose¡ªif indeed any? "I hear some are calling it the Tree of Life," the navy officer remarked to Rizzo with a laugh, noticing her and Luella''s lingering awe-filled stares. "Doesn''t look anything like a tree, though¡ªdoes it?" Rizzo, seeing that they were near to their destination, met him with a flirtatious giggle. Then, she played her final hand: "It doesn''t! Though neither do I appear like a man, I suppose." The officer''s face was flushed bright pink. "Milady, I wasn''t speaking in jest¡ª" Rizzo interjected sharply: "Neither was I." "Uh..." The naval officer fell silent, slowly averting his gaze; as to all this Luella only narrowed her brow at Rizzo''s subtly darkening expression. It was silent for all the rest of the way until the rowboat had made land: mooring at the small dock of what appeared to be an abandoned fishing village, made up of crudely constructed thatch-roofed wooden huts traversed by narrow plank walkways. Smelling strongly of rotting chum and brine, it was clear that the former inhabitants had left in a hurry with doors and windows having been left wide open, fish still hung out on racks to dry, even pots and pats still left on stoves and plates set out on tables¡ªsome even with food still remaining in them. Luella said, "everyone must have fled after the"¡ªshe briefly hesitated¡ª"demons appeared." Rizzo stopped to inspect a set of deep claw marks dug into one of the hut walls. "Interesting. Could it be the work of a wild cat?" Luella cleared her throat and provided an answer: "The local wildlife reports we were given made mention of an endemic species of jaguar, and gorillas." Rizzo cast her an incredulous look. "You actually read through those?" he asked. She adjusted her glasses. "I only wanted to be thorough, sir." "You don''t have to call me sir; it feels weird." "Very well. What do you prefer?" "You''re so formal! We''ve been together for a whole month by this point." "My habit. Accept my apologies, sir." Rizzo loudly sighed. "It''s fine. Still, just call me Rizzo." "Where will we sleep tonight, Rizzo?" "Right here in this village, of course! Or is something wrong?" Luella looked to be queasy at the mere proposition. "I was afraid you would say that." Altogether, the place had an eerie vibe to it: like Pompei, in how it remained largely intact after the eruption. "Unfortunately, that is not all you will likely be dismayed to hear," Rizzo said ominously as he placed his hands onto Luella''s shoulders, prompting their gazes to connect: Luella''s full of a thinly-veiled fear whereas his was firm, unblinking: entirely focused on the task ahead. "Tonight, we shall also attempt a demonic lure¡ªusing the Crowley method." "Oh God," Luella gasped and abruptly pulled from Rizzo''s grasp. "A Crowley ritual already?" "Yes...and I would like for you to perform it." "Really? Why does it have to be me?!" "So I''ll be ready" ¡ªhe grinned¡ª"in case a ''jaguar'' or a ''gorilla'' shows up." At this explanation she hummed and hawwed and bit her lip, in a show of reluctance. She gave a flustered growl, crossing her arms indignantly. Hesitant as she was, however, after some consideration she ultimately relented¡ª "I suppose¡­" She gave a relenting sigh. "It is true that I volunteered for this." Rizzo nodded, and slowly he turned his contemplative gaze to peer out across the sparkling Caribbean sea. Out there, he saw that the rowboat which had brought them ashore, manned by the naval officer, was already halfway returned to the warship where it sat nestled on the horizon. And the ship would remain there, he knew, for as long as a period of approximately thirty days while he and Luella conducted their investigation; after which, it would raise anchors to sail back to England. Therefore, time was of the essence. But also, it was also to the pair''s benefit that they''d been completely left to their own devices, without any supervision; without any moral or ethical restraints being forcibly applied to their work. It meant there was no cause to hold back: from conducting even their most extreme methodologies. Chapter II In terms of luggage, the pair had come to the island well-prepared. For day-to-day sustenance, their options were varied: having with them a caged egg-laying hen, stores of breads and cheeses, citruses and tubers carried together in a cloth sack. And for water, a delegate from the ship would be sent to shore every evening to replenish their pouches, as well as their food supplies or supply of feed for their chicken¡ªor whatever else¡ªif they so needed. Aside from foodstuffs they each had brought with them a bag containing changes of clothes and luxury items such as books to read, and liquor bottles...as well as all the materials they would need to conduct a variety of occult rituals. By nightfall, the proper arrangements were made to set the stage for a Crowley lure: a pentagram circle was applied via a paintbrush to the floor inside one of the hut-houses, taking from a supply of pig¡¯s blood kept in a canopic jar, and centered with a tall lit candle. A phonograph machine was installed, set to ambiently play a record of tribal-sounding music defined by strumming sitars and rolling bongo drums, and piping reed flutes. Luella herself was to be the grand centerpiece gem of the occasion: fitted with a ceremonial purple midriff and skirt, faux jewelry, dark afro wig and heavy eyeliner¡ªbased on the so-called ¡°alluring lady¡¯s fashion¡± of ancient Egypt. ¡°How embarrassing,¡± she remarked of herself, while being made to perform an awkward dance: rocking and gyrating her hips, waving her arms like an infant testing its limbs for the first time and hating every moment of it. Being positioned directly above the aforementioned candle, its flickering flames expedited the accumulation of glistening warm sweat upon her delectably plump bare thighs: a factor which served as an ¡°open invitation to any ¡®otherworldly bachelors, whom might be roving within the vicinity,¡± in Crowley¡¯s own phrasing. Rizzo was observing the spectacle from a leather chair basked in moonlight streaming in through a window, enjoying a drink from the bottle of whiskey that had been included among their things. ¡°Show more swagger¡ªsurely you can do better than that!¡± he playfully jeered, raising his glass to her. Luella frowned, her eyebrows creasing in disappointment. ¡°Are all magicians charlatans, sir? Because I am quite beginning to think so.¡± Rizzo bore for her a charming¡ªsalesman-like¡ªsmile. ¡°Most are charlatans: but not I, my dear.¡± ¡°Considering the present circumstances, forgive me for having my doubts.¡± ¡°Crowley may have been a touch too focused on his own ego and perverse gratification,¡± Rizzo outlined, in a scholarly tone: ¡°however, he was a pioneer in the field of demon psychology.¡± ¡°I just think he was a sex-crazed loon, sir!¡± ¡°Quite right!¡± Rizzo exclaimed with a hearty swing of his arm. ¡°And demons¡ªbeneath all their pomp and witchcraft and well-organized society¡ªare not, in fact, very much different from us: complete with their own virtues and vices and wants¡±¡ªhe lightly chuckled, waving his whiskey bottle around¡ª¡±and reckless drives toward chaos and overindulgence.¡± ¡°In that case, shouldn¡¯t you be put to this task?¡± She joked: ¡°Perhaps the demons of Perdition have a discerning taste for girlish men.¡± ¡°Heavens, no¡ªI would never be found wearing such an atrocious thing!¡± Rizzo said with a rollicking laugh. ¡°Oh, but Ms. Lafferty: you have obviously done research to know of some basic ritual summoning methods, but have you actually been to a summoning ritual¡ªor indeed, witnessed a demon before? In person?" "No,¡± she tersely replied, blowing through her lips derisively. "Have you?" ¡°I have¡ªonce,¡± Rizzo said in a lowered voice, his expression darkened. ¡°It ended rather¡­messily." Luella was enraptured. "What happened?¡± ¡°I think you wouldn¡¯t believe me: my tale extends far beyond ordinary imagination.¡± ¡°The longer you stall, the more I¡¯ll be inclined to think it pure fiction.¡± ¡°Very smart,¡± Rizzo conceded and sucked in his lower lip,with a contemplative stare for a moment, tapping the whiskey bottle against the chair¡¯s arm, before nodding to himself conclusively. ¡°I was only a boy, at the time: still blind to the ways of the world, in many respects. I had recently been apprenticed by a¡±¡ªhis face betrayed a sliver of disdain¡ª¡±prominent wizard, and occultic scholar.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Surely this wizard had a name,¡± Luella interjected. ¡°That he did, but giving it would reveal too much. The story I am about to tell you, with its gorey aftermath, was printed in all the major news publications at the time; so surely, you would have read about it.¡± ¡°At least give a bit about his history, then,¡± she said, with an incredulous glare. ¡°No. I shall simply refer to this man as ¡®the wizard. Though to be sure, much more could be remarked about his character, as I was quite happy to finally be rid of him when all was said and done. But there is no denying that he was a great wizard in his time¡ªindeed for all time¡ªbecause he had discovered a secret technique for summoning demons with some measure of reliability. Whereas most of his contemporaries would fail to do so, even once, within their lifetime.¡± Luella, having ceased in her dance for the Crowley ritual, was now sitting cross-legged on the floor with her eyes perched on Rizzo and listening intently, as he continued to recount the events of that fateful night: At first, everything did appear perfectly normal. All the coven magicians, dressed in their slender purple and gold hoods, had gathered around a massive altar in a dingy dark basement lit by torches. Rizzo had, by this point, attended many ritual summonings before¡ªalbeit only as a spectator, by the side of his mentor¡ªso he had no reason to not feel completely safe inside one of the many guardian circles, drawn in a ring around the altar, wherein the summoners had split apart into groups and all positioned themselves with their heads bowed, unitedly whispering their conjuration chants: altogether combining into one great, ceaseless, dreadful-sounding murmur. A cloud of otherworldly ether materialized, before long: its thick sulfuric smoke spilled endlessly from the altar, gradually flooding the basement in a gloomy, bone-chilling, fog-like green vapor. Following this, it was only a matter of minutes until the whole entity was conceived: First as a darkened silhouette emerging from below the ground, amid an emanating bouquet of violet and alizarin red-streaked lightning bolts, Rizzo could only vaguely render a form of a man with a head shaped like he wore an armor helmet that was dressed in a long flowing cape, and mounted atop a peculiar steed: shaped like something other than a horse, possessing an intimidatingly large set of jaws lined with sharply curved teeth. Clutched in its right fist was a tremendous longsword, which he watched with increasing terror as it was raised above its head: in a manner he likened to a conqueror, rallying his cavalry troops¡¯ morale just before a brazen charge¡ª ¡ªwhat would prove the only warning given of the slaughter that was to ensue. The summoners ...fared as wood to the fire, in the face of the demon¡¯s undeterrable wrath. Armed with no means to defend themselves, their guardian circles had likewise failed to ward off the demon as its steed¡ªrevealed to be a large, black wolf¡ªproceeded to nimbly pounce across the room, while its master laid into their helplessly fleeing ranks with a ruthless storm of sword-cleaves: detaching all manner of heads and limbs, trailing wide fountainous arcs of their spilled blood in all directions; the fading cries of the frantic and fallen resounding off the narrowly enclosed walls¡­of the ritual chamber turned tomb; the bodies of those who tried in vain to escape piling up at the foot of the room¡¯s only stairwell as the massacre resumed thusly, without pause¡­until it was only two of the coven members¡ªRizzo and the wizard¡ªthat remained. The scene was tense, with neither Rizzo or the wizard daring to move an inch as the demon dismounted from its wolf-steed at the center of the room. Its following slow footsteps, toward them, splashed ominously in the pooling puddles of blood. By the faint light of the torches Rizzo viewed its inhuman face which showed no hint of emotion: round and tawny feathered, with a tiny curved beak and polished black eyes¡ªthat of an owl¡ªmechanically honing onto the last of its prey while rearing back its sword again, to end its brutal extermination in one final, concise blow¡ª It was then that Luella, who had been growing noticeably more restless as Rizzo continued his story, finally sprang at him. "You¡¯re making all of this up!" she said, gripping and shaking him by his dress collar. ¡°See? I told you it¡¯s unbelievable.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t the guardian circles work like they¡¯re supposed to?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s to say?¡± Rizzo, grinning in amusement at her frazzled state, lightly shoved her away and gave a light shrug. ¡°Perhaps they never worked to begin with.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Luella huffed: ¡°but there¡¯s still no way you could¡¯ve made it out of there alive.¡± "I only ask because it is so queer to me, Ms. Lafferty: but if you¡¯re so doubtful of the existence of demons¡ªwhy do you study the occult?" Luella promptly adjusted her glasses and straightened herself, returning her voice to an even tone. "Purely out of curiosity, sir: I first began researching the occult while I was in seminary school, training to become a nun. And because of your reputation as a scholar in the subject, I sought you out.¡± Rizzo¡¯s perfectly curled and articulated lashes did a few slight fluttering flourishes, as he gave a playfully mischievous smile. ¡°Is it only curiosity that guides you, I wonder,¡± he said: ¡°or a crisis of faith?¡± At this Luella smiled, in a somewhat vague, mysterious way. ¡°I am here because I simply want to know the truth, Mr. Rizzo; even if I am to be damned to Hell.¡± Chapter III Luella eventually went to sleep, on a blanket-lined hammock strung up in another room of the hut. While Rizzo decided to go for a walk. The nights on Perdition were surprisingly cool, and unshockingly tranquil; there was still no trace of flesh-devouring imps, like what was promised in the fanatical news stories. Rizzo seriously began to wonder if perhaps some, if not all of these accounts were merely an exaggerated spin on the island¡¯s natural fauna. For example, mosquitoes and bats¡ªboth of which were in abundance on Perdition¡ªin the case of said imps. Regardless, it still wouldn¡¯t explain the presence of the pillar. Nor the mysterious deaths of all those who ventured onto the island, during the previous months. No: Rizzo was certain this was the place. I have thirty days on this island¡­or make it twenty-nine. Rizzo walked from the house to the shore, stripping away his shoes, his stockings and petticoat as he did. He wanted to feel the bare wind on his knees and his thighs, and loose grains of sand dwindling between his toes. It all felt marvelous. Walking along a moonlit beach, he was free from the stings of the mosquito. Looking out across the blackened ocean, he saw the glowing yellow cabin windows of the distant, gently bobbing shape of the Dreamcatcher. Twenty-nine days¡­but will it be enough? For Rizzo, time was usually completely meaningless. But here, it meant everything. The next few hours passed him by inconsequentially; and as morning rose, Luella found him sitting in the sand with his chin propped against his knees. Even then, he was still intently watching the ship: a daunting, expressionless stare to his tragically beautiful doll-like black eyes. "Did you sleep at all?" she asked, her brow peaked in a hint of concern. He shook his head, still facing straight ahead. "Must''ve drank too much," he said. Rizzo put back on his shoes, but left the other shed parts of his clothing strewn across the white sands. Then, returned with Luella to the hut. "I''ll take care of breakfast," Luella said; and fortunately, the stove was still workable, so she was able to fry the morning''s yield of eggs with some cheese and sprinkles of salt¡ªcalling it an omelet, that was perfectly delicious. However, the air was tense as Luella set the plates down at the table, taking a chair across from Rizzo. She''d been frowning all morning. "You shouldn''t have left me alone last night," Luella said. Rizzo froze, his fork with a piece of egg in hand. "I¡­" he briefly started to conjure up with an excuse, but shook his head with a sigh and refrained. "You''re right. We still don¡¯t know what to expect from this island, so it¡¯s much safer for us to stick together.¡± ¡°Did something happen last night? You seemed strange earlier.¡± ¡°I suppose I was taken by the beauty of this place." ¡°What of your clothes? You¡¯ve done away with your stockings, your petticoat¡­¡± ¡°It is too hot during the day, so I thought I should lose them.¡± ¡°Quite,¡± Luella replied flatly, unconvinced. Then, shifted the subject: "So, the Crowley lure¡ª" "Didn''t work.¡± Rizzo nodded, taking a bite from his fork before continuing with his mouth full: ¡°Still, it was worth a try." Luella winced at his poor manners. However, she didn¡¯t tangent: "Very well. Then I suppose we''ll take the pistols and conduct ourselves further inland." "Yes," Rizzo murmured: "The pistols..."¡ªreferring to a set of Webley revolvers loaned to them by the naval crew for their own protections, along with storage belts and a box of cartridges. "Admittedly, I''ve never used a gun before.¡± "Neither have I,¡± she returned with a smile, and a small giggle. ¡°We are such posh ladies!" Rizzo chuckled. "Oh no, my dear: I am most certainly not posh!" he chimed playfully. Then added¡ªslyly, with a subtle grin¡ªand in a softer tone: "Nor am I a lady." Luella glared, insisting: "but surely you are of the high-class."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. "Wrong again! On all counts~" he said, unfurling a fan as he simultaneously drew it from the cut of his blouse within one smooth, elegant twirl of his hand. ¡°You¡¯re lying!¡± Luella was aghast. ¡°I cannot believe it; such an image of grace as yourself!¡± "Ah, but make no mistake, Ms. Lafferty: I am not of the ruling class; I only fuck the ruling class¡±¡ªhe winked¡ª¡±looking my prettiest whilst doing so." Luella''s jaw dropped. "You are¡­a courtesan!?" It took some while, but after Luella was able to calm herself¡ªthrough Rizzo¡¯s uproarious laughter¡ªit was straight back to business: Deep in the jungle, there lay the ancient ruins of an indigenous village. Rows of low-standing, square-shaped stone structures were uniformly aligned across the span of a wide, grassy pavilion. Surrounded by walls which bore the classic mezo-american design emphasis on geometry and symmetry in its varied depictions of humans, serpent-beasts and swirling conch shell patterns, to name a few. Rizzo and Luella were guided there by a decades-old map, breath-taken by its largely intact state. Artifacts of the ill-fated French expedition were also present among the ruins. Among these being tattered tents, weather-beaten furniture and supply barrels filled with non-perishables and gunpowder. Luella was vaguely horrified. ¡°This is a place of death: between the indigenous tribe that originally built this place, and the French expedition.¡± Looming above all, situated as the primeval village''s central throne of power was¡ªof course, the enigmatic Pillar of Pluton, but also¡ªa towering, multi-storied ziggurat ascended by dual sets of carved stone steps, culminating at a sun-bathed balcony overlooking the entire village. Upon which, there resided an ominous gray slab. ¡°It looks to be a temple,¡± Rizzo mused. "Similar to the ones built by the Aztecs of Central America." Upon closer inspection, he and Luella noticed faded red stains along the steps. ¡°Is it blood?¡± Luella gasped: ¡°Did the indigenous tribe of Perdition conduct human sacrifices?¡± ¡°Well, I very highly doubt it¡¯s pigs¡¯ blood¡­¡± ¡°Be serious, Rizzo! Is there something occultic at play here?¡± ¡°I couldn''t say. However, I do think it a funny coincidence that a civilization would construct such a lavish monument on the same island as the Pillar of Pluton." "How so? The Pillar only appeared here recently, whereas the temple¡­" Rizzo glared at her sharply. "Perhaps time is viewed differently by the higher powers and those attached to them, Ms. Lafferty. In the sense that their schemes might necessarily span beyond a single lifetime, or even an entire civilization." "Rizzo¡­" Luella started warily in a low, tip-toeing voice. "I have to ask you something." "What''s that?" he returned softly with a vacant look, tilting his head to the side at a perplexing angle. "Is there something you have thus far neglected to tell me?" she asked. ¡°That depends¡­¡± Rizzo scanned her suspiciously a while, continuing with slight agitation: "What exactly are you implying with such a question?''" "I think you are hiding something; you¡¯ve been restless since we first arrived on the island." He chuckled. ¡°Is that all? I am simply¡±¡ªhe stepped away from her, gesturing with his hand a while as though articulating himself, then finishing: ¡°homesick, is all.¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± Luella snapped: ¡°You¡¯re not the type to lose your nerves so easily.¡± ¡°How would you know? Either I am so easy to read, or a master at keeping secrets. It cannot be both.¡± ¡°Like you said, we¡¯ve known each other for more than a month now.¡± She returned with a grin, fixing him with her unrelenting gaze. ¡°And during this time I have observed, first hand, your cold and calculating nature: how you manipulate and deceive others to achieve your own ends, reveling in the destruction you cause.¡± ¡°Clever girl,¡° Rizzo moaned, crossing his arms indignantly. ¡°So it is true that I extract some perverse enjoyment at the expense of others¡ªso what? I never claimed to be pure.¡± ¡°On the contrary: you seem fit to always remind others of your perverseness.¡± Rizzo grimaced: his splendid features becoming disgustingly twisted, as his slender shoulders began to tremble with repressed emotion. ¡°You wouldn''t be able to understand: I knew as much from the day I first laid eyes on you.¡± Through his demeanor, Luella sensed a deep well of sorrow beneath the surface He bowed his head, hiding his tears behind luscious, billowy black curls of hair. Upon speaking, his words were produced in a dark and seething, guttural, contempt-filled growl: ¡°I do so¡­because I am perverse: every stinking, wretched ounce of me.¡± His arms still crossed, he dug his fingernails so deeply into his shoulder with one hand that¡ªas Luella gasped¡ªtrails of blood started to ensue. "I am a slum-orphan, who narrowly escaped the streets¡ª" he wailed, slouching forward as he did, while his knees buckled until they gave out from under him. "Only by becoming a piece of meat to an old lecher!" Luella was startled, her eyes widening in realization¡ª ¡°The wizard from the story!¡± Rizzo lifted his head sharply, honing onto her with a snarl. "I was never more happy than the day I watched the demon stab him, and tear his guts out," he continued to seethe, with a slight devilish grin. "So now, with every breath in my lungs¡­¡± He yelled: ¡°I curse him! I am no longer his nymph, but a beauty of her own making! One that owns and conquers all¡ªdevours all!" "Gabriella¡­" Luella''s words failed. She was too overwhelmed in shock at the display. But also, in that moment, she felt an undeniable sympathy for Gabriella Risso. "Do you believe my story now?!¡± He pleaded. ¡°Or should I let spill another dark part of my past¡ªso it might please you?" Luella simply shook her head and knelt beside him, embracing his shuddering form.