Page 77 of Scent of Desire
“Doudou,” Hugo called out, shaking his head, his stare warning me to not listen to Adonis.
A burning wave consumed my core, and I faced Adonis and his madness, in thirst for his blood.
“I…” I whispered, the sound so low no one could hear it apart from the demons that were dancing around me.
My lips curved into a line that could send chills to the skeletons nearby. “Will…”
“Curse…” My voice was like a snake charming his prey.
“You…”
Until death tears us apart.
Blood flowed from my palm to seal this pact.
I eclipsed from my brain Adonis and his vile smiles as if he was only a shadow of the past and the object of my imagination, and ran toward Hugo, seized his hand, and jumped into an uncertain fate.
Silence pervaded as intense as resilient fog.
In the darkness of the exotic jungle, nature was bleeding its heart.
The tropical foliage—from green aventurine to crimson death and coal black—dripped on the weedy ground and clung to any intruder who wanted to penetrate its hostile lands.
It was just as I remembered.
Chaotic and cursed.
In the land where the Devil’s Corpse flourished, there was another legend.
Some said it was only folklore—but those who believed in magic and in history knew the truth.
I arrived back at the place that had given my father nightmares.
I crossed the valley of skulls carpeting the red sand to arrive at the wall of the cave, where tombs hung with a cross. The entrance had been condemned, with nailed pieces of wood and some words intending to frighten passers-by.
Good thing I didn’t have one. That warning was sealed with black magic and blind faith so that anyone who entered would be swallowed up by its darkness.
A grin twisted my Machiavellian features.
I would reopen the mine he had closed.
Because inside of this island, there was what I coveted.
A curse that I’d break.
For her.
“Hugo, what is that island exactly?” In the rush of events, I had blindly followed him, having not the slightest idea of what our final destination would be. Many questions hung on the tip of my tongue, but I refuted them, or else my heart would not take it. My emotions would be my strength; even if they consumed me, I would use them to get the justice my family deserved and to find the man who could stitch my heart together and heal it.
I held on to my seat, the helicopter shuddering as we entered turbulence, passing through an alley of stormy clouds. Bolts of lightning flashed in front of us in a landscape of apocalypse with no visibility.
“A land of bad omen,” Hugo said through his headset. “Nobody dares to venture there from now on. Are you familiar with the Devil’s Triangle?”
I nodded. It was the place where boats and planes had mysteriously disappeared. Another jolt made the helicopter shake, and lightning rumbled in front of us. We were blindly engulfed in the clouds, death chasing us in its shades of nocturnal gray.
“This island is worse. Previously, it served as a secret psychiatric asylum. They’d literally send anyone in there, from infamous prisoners to the sick or the nonguilty ones they wanted to exterminate in a quiet way. Since then, the population has reproduced and grown, even though everyone thought they’d die.” Hugo turned to face me. “My grandparents were able to escape the island with my great-grandparents the day the Christians came to spread their religion, or more likely to kill our beliefs, and cleanse the island from its dark past. But that’s not all—”
A light flashed, and I tightened my grip on the seat. We were losing altitude, descending at full speed on the black clouds.
