TO TAME THE BRUTAL LYCAN BEAST-Chapter 37: BE GONE, FOUL SPIRIT
AZRAEL
With Eros gone, I’m left alone with my thoughts — the swirling, manic thoughts of a man who’s lived too long and cannot die. But how did it all come to this?
I don’t remember much of my memories — the faces I’ve met, the people I’ve known. Only key information I’d prefer not to recall, and the main purpose of my mission on this endless earth... one that is finally nigh.
I just have to hold on. Push for another few years, so the thousands behind me aren’t wasted with me.
A stabbing pain pricks into the wound etched into my chest, causing it to throb painfully — the constant reminder of what has happened before, and what still needs to be done.
I lurch forward and groan as it begins: another night of agony.
This is the cycle of my curse — forcing me to relive the beginning of my damnation, caused by the stab of a sacred blade.
I experience the pain that came with the wound on some nights, not all, without warning and without remedy. It lasts through the night, dying over and over again, fueling my thirst for revenge.
"You don’t look so good."
A new voice and presence bloom into existence beside me, burning brightly within my domain.
My already sour mood worsens once I feel her annoying light washing away the shadows of my darkness etched into every wall and floor of my territory.
I scoff, bitterness thick on my tongue.
"Well, well — if it isn’t the goddess herself, sneaking into my castle like a pest."
I sneer, turning to face the accursed woman.
She’s in her celestial form, glowing obnoxiously, with ridiculous pearly white porcelain skin — all meant to advertise her extravagant splendor in the most narcissistic way possible.
She is the vile creature that’s tormented me for ages. My mortal enemy.
She sits on my bed with a dull expression, watching me as she always does — through her constant inflow of incompetent spies, or sometimes personally, by finding small fragments in my walls to sneak through... like tonight.
"I thought you’d finally grown bored of me at some point, but you really are relentless. Your infinite obsession knows no bounds," I tease through clenched teeth, rising to my feet.
The quick movement is a mistake. Bolts of pain shoot down from my chest, spreading fast.
The wound feels like it’s deepening, filled with molten lava. Pain like nothing else in this world takes over my entire body, and I fall to my knees.
The curse activates. Black runes appear on my skin, spreading like a web of chains that bind and burn into my flesh. I groan, gnash my teeth, drowning in agony.
"I wouldn’t call it sneaking in, seeing as you’ve been leaving your back door open more frequently these days," she responds dully — hardly moved by my torment, not that I expect her to be.
I brave through the first wave, catching my breath seconds later, coughing up a spoonful of blood.
"You’ve always enjoyed sneaking in and taking advantage of cracks in the barrier every chance you get. I don’t know if I’ve made it crystal clear over the last millennia, but you’re not my type."
Her bland expression twists into disgust, a shudder of annoyance that sends a dark thrill through my burning veins.
The waves of her discomfort fill me with momentary relief, drawing a broken chuckle from my lips.
"Actually..." she cuts in, the disgust fading into a small smirk. "This isn’t the first time it’s weakened. You’ve been distracted."
The simple statement drains the joy right out of me.
Her words summon her face into my mind — the last person I want to think about right now. The current bane of my existence.
Surprisingly, she’s tormented me more than this wretched goddess has in the past week.
Why does everyone keep bringing her up as if she means something? As if she’s anything more than a passing amusement — one that will end as fast as a flickering flame in my hands.
It boils my blood. A mere woman could not unravel my concentration — not even in a million years of this agony.
"Shut up," I bellow in a deep snarl, baring my fangs at her.
Then the next wave hits — more painful than the first. My skin sears hot like fire pulled from the crust of the earth, roasting me inside out.
I yell, clawing at my face as if peeling my skin off could make a difference. It never does, but the pain gives the illusion that it could — every single time.
"As powerful as black magic is, we both know you need to be consistently mentally focused to keep it up. Yet something’s managed to disrupt your thoughts these past few days," she continues, now that it’s her turn to taunt and make jokes.
"I said shut up, you annoying wench."
Her voice makes this endless torture all the more horrifying. But of course, she can’t do me that favor.
She frowns, offended by my constant disrespect—never one to stomach it easily.
"It’s Goddess to you."
I scoff, surviving the second wave and catching my breath again. I look at her, chuckling—then laughing uncontrollably.
"Unlike your mindless minions, I have no fear or respect for you. You’re the reason I’m like this. I’m the monster you created, and you can’t deal with the truth. That’s why, once in a while, you send your pests my way—and I pick them off one by one."
"Except Valoria," she points out, as if it means anything.
"Well, I figured keeping one alive long enough would let the others come see for themselves and realize you’re nothing but a powerless goddess who’s sent them off to die." I smile, watching her confidence crack—a look I savor the few times she pays me a visit and bears witness to her failing plans to put me under.
That sliver of dying hope, that desperation...
"There’s one way to put an end to the curse." She turns her gaze to the runes on my skin, touching a sensitive spot on purpose.
My smile flattens again.
"Sorry, darling, I won’t give you that satisfaction." I make it plain and easy for her. Her plan will fail, as they always have. I won’t be killed. She won’t be able to stop me from reaching my goal. "Besides, I get this odd tingling feeling that you’d be lonely without someone to spy on and obsess over."
"Azrael—!"
I raise one hand and clench it into a fist before she can complete whatever she has left to say, triggering the dark spell that shields this space from her kind.
"Be gone, foul spirit!"
The weakened veil strengthens under my power and command, and her manifestation begins to fade away.
"We’ll be seeing each other again soon, Azrael," she calls out just before she vanishes into nothing.
Once she’s gone, I fall into the third and final wave of pain. My body collapses backward, convulsing.
I choke uncontrollably, unable to take in a single breath as my body feels like it’s dying all over again.
On instinct, I reach out—to nothing, to no one in particular. I have long since abandoned the hope of being saved... of being rescued. Because no one will come for a beast like me.
I cannot be saved.
