Chapter 8: The Game’s Conclusion

Dravisha made her way to Aldric. He was sitting on a barstool sipping on a glass of red wine. Currently he was leading in the poker game. Her job was pretty simple. No mortal could withstand the allure of a Demoness. If she fulfilled this simple contract Jenny would be exclusively hers. The talk about seduction had made the demoness slightly nervous. She had imagined her little Witch finding someone else eventually. She could never let something like that happen. She swayed her hips seductively, exuding demonic grace as she slid into the seat beside him.

“You’re a man who truly knows his way around cards,” she purred, leaning closer.

He glanced at her sidelong, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “I’m not interested.”

Dravisha blinked, momentarily taken aback. How dare he dismiss her before she’d even made her proposition?

“Interested in what?” she countered, feigning innocence. “You haven’t heard what I wanted to say.”

“I’m not interested in you,” Aldric replied curtly, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. “I don’t know what you and that silver-haired broad are planning, but I’m not falling for it.” His gaze hardened. Winning this game was his lifeline—the solution to all his problems. Distractions were luxuries he couldn’t afford, especially not from someone as suspicious as her. He had watched the two girls and their whispered conversation. He wasn’t a fool who would let some pretty broad destroy him.

Dravisha was pretty peeved off. Her charms had always worked wonders, to be disregarded like that felt like an insult. What’s worse if she couldn’t fulfill her end of the contract, the contract would not only break but she’d be hit with the full backlash of the broken contract, which meant electrocution by the equivalent of ten lightning strikes. She had to find a way to isolate Aldric and kill him.

“Very well, Lord Nachtdorn,” Dravisha smirked, leaning closer. “I know all about your arrangement with the dealer. It’d be a shame if it got exposed.”

Aldric’s hands trembled faintly, betraying his calm facade. Sweat beaded on his brow as he leaned back, trying to maintain composure. “Even if you’re right, how would you prove it? I could deny everything—or blame your silver-haired friend.”

Dravisha nodded, unfazed. “True, there’s no smoking gun unless you’re caught in the act. But there’s another way you’re cheating, isn’t there?”

Aldric shrugged, forcing a laugh. “And what would that be?”

Dravisha leaned in further, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. If he tried to run, she’d lunge for him. “You have a cursed artifact—a red gem that drains life. What do you think would happen if those two found out?” She gestured subtly toward the Inquisitors.

Aldric froze, his mask slipping for just a moment. His hands shook visibly now, and sweat poured down his temples. “Ho—How?” He had kept the Sanguine Prism hidden so carefully, only using it sparingly and discreetly. How had she discovered it?

“I have a deal for you,” Dravisha purred, lightly slapping his cheek. “Let us play fairly. If we win, we’ll give you half the money in exchange for the gem. Got it?”

Aldric hesitated, weighing his options. The artifact was invaluable—it could extend his life and provide an edge in desperate situations. But without the money to pay his debt, he’d end up worse than dead. The black-haired woman’s offer was tempting, almost irresistible.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice tight. “Deal. Meet me near the old catacombs after the game—that is, if your lady-friend wins.”

Dravisha nodded and hurried off. She found Jenny and relayed everything, including how she had failed to fulfill all of the contract. She could feel the backlash already bubbling within her. Electricity crackled along her skin, black as the abyss it came from. Thanks to her half-fulfillment of the contract, it might only be five lightning strikes worth of energy—still excruciating, but far more bearable than ten.

She barely made it to the lavatory before the lightning erupted out of her. Searing pain tore through her, igniting every nerve in her body. She collapsed to the floor, writhing and screaming in agony. A sharp, biting tang filled the air, mingling with the acrid tang of burnt flesh. Black lightning scorched her skin, leaving trails of charred tissue. Blood streamed from her eyes, ears, and mouth.

As the lightning tore through her, Dravisha clenched her teeth against the screams clawing at her throat. She had known the risks when she signed the contract—had reveled in them, even—but now, faced with the raw fury of Hell’s justice, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d underestimated the stakes. Pride had blinded her, as it always did.

Five agonizing minutes passed before the torment subsided. Dravisha collapsed into a fetal position, clutching her knees and whimpering softly, her body wracked with exhaustion and lingering pain.

Through the locked door, Jenny heard the muffled screams and smelled the sharp tang of scorched air creeping under the crack. The scent carried an eerie sharpness, like the aftermath of a storm mingled with the metallic bite of blood. She didn’t quite know how to feel. On one hand, the broken contract gave her back her freedom; on the other, she now faced her father alone, without Dravisha as backup.

She’d feel more sorry for Dravisha, if Dravisha weren’t actively trying to enslave her. Of course hearing the muffled screams unsettled her, how could they not? She wasn’t inhuman, she felt some sort of attachment to the Demoness. It was hard not to. She had spent so many intimate moments with the Demon. Even if she knew better than to feel for the Demon, a small part of her was deeply invested in her relationship with Dravisha. It was stupid, but emotions often were stupid. Jenny would just have to be extra wary of that small part of her and keep her emotions in check.

After Hugo witnessed the black-haired woman and Aldric talking, he approached the elderly gentleman. He slid into the seat beside him. “Don’t do anything stupid and just focus on winning.”

Aldric nodded grimly. “Don’t worry—I’ll get you the money. Even if I lose, I have a backup plan. I’ll get you the three hundred by tomorrow at the latest.”

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“I’ll hold you to that.” Hugo leaned back against the bar, spreading out his hand casually. “I’ve been observing the silver-haired woman. She knows about your deal with the dealer. Is that what you and her were discussing just now?” He gestured toward the black-haired woman.

“It’s complicated,” Aldric muttered, his jaw tightening. That the Inquisitor had noticed only heightened his unease. “She wants a fair game from now on.”

Hugo arched an eyebrow. He had studied everyone in the room intently. He could read almost anyone’s tells—the tiniest scrunch of their face, the flicker of uncertainty in their eyes. Everyone except the silver-haired woman. His sketch had revealed nothing useful. She was isolated, lonely and driven by something deeply personal. There was a dark shadow looming over her, which could be interpreted in a lot of different ways, perhaps it was guilt or hatred or something far more complex—far more dangerous. He could tell she was emotionally vulnerable and could perhaps be manipulated, but it would take him far more time to unearth all of her secrets.

“Can you win a fair game?” Hugo asked pointedly.

“I’m leading in chips.”

“Which you can easily loose with a few bad hands,” Hugo countered, shaking his head. “If you’re serious about winning, I can help you. I have abilities—abilities for interrogation—but they could prove useful here.”

“Oh yeah? And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“Bet a few rounds with my advice and see how it holds up. It’s ultimately up to you.”

After Aldric thought it over, the two of them negotiated a new deal.

All of the players returned to their seats. Jenny came up with an excuse for Dravisha’s absence, hinting that she had a bad stomach. It elicited a few disgusted expressions. A new dealer dealt them their hands. The first few rounds of betting went well for Jenny, and she built up her chip stack. Silver Locks was the only other player with a decent pile; the others were nearly drained. Soon enough, all remaining players went all-in.

Jenny noticed subtle non-verbal cues between Aldric and Hugo. It seemed the Inquisitor was helping Aldric strategize. Adjusting her plan, Jenny began deliberately bluffing with frequency, knowing Hugo would pick up on her fake tell. Both she and Silver Locks were losing steadily.

After a few more cards, Jenny shoved all her chips into the middle. The community cards lay on the table: a jack of spades, an ace of hearts, a five of clubs, and a ten of clubs.

“All in,” she declared.

Hugo studied Jenny carefully. She leaned forward slightly—a tell he’d identified earlier. It was unnoticeable at first, but it became obvious over time. He nodded to Aldric to accept the all-in.

“Call,” Aldric said confidently.

“Fold,” Silver Locks tossed away his cards.

The dealer revealed the final card—a gleaming ace of diamonds. Its sharp edges caught the dim light, casting faint reflections across the polished surface.

Aldric flipped over a king and queen—a straight. He smirked, confident in his win.

Jenny nodded, her expression calm. She flipped over her pocket jacks—a full house sealed by the final ace. Relief washed over her as she stood, smiling. “Chin up—you haven’t lost yet.” She reached across the table and pulled the fat stack of chips toward her. With this victory, she now possessed around seven hundred gold marks’ worth of chips.

Aldric glared at Hugo, who simply shrugged.

Hugo’s lips twitched into a wry smile, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of irritation. He prided himself on his ability to read people, yet the silver-haired woman had turned his own methods against him. Fascinating—and infuriating. He would keep a keen eye on her.

The game didn’t take long to finish from there. With Jenny being so much in the lead, she quickly outplayed her opponents and won.

Silver Locks nodded at her with deep respect, studying her with quiet admiration. “Well played… Lady Seris, right?”

Jenny nodded, accepting the compliment with a faint smile.

“I hope to see you around,” he said, handing her a card. “Visit my shop if you’re ever in the mood for rare antiques—or allies.” The words carried weight, suggesting more than mere business.

Jenny took the card, glancing at the fine print: ‘Silbersee Antique Seller and Auction,’ along with various locations. “Thank you,” she said, tucking it into her hand bag.

Turning to Aldric, she adopted a cheery smile. His face glistened with sweat under the dim light of the chandeliers, his handkerchief damp and crumpled in his trembling hands. Each wipe seemed futile, as though the perspiration was a physical manifestation of his mounting despair.

“Good game, Lord Nachtdorn,” she chirped, her tone laced with mockery.

He glared at her with undisguised contempt.

“Now don’t be a sore loser,” she added, offering him her hand. Inside, she revelled in his humiliation, savoring the knowledge that she had planted the seeds of his undoing. Still, she reminded herself to stay focused. There was much work to do before her revenge was complete.

Reluctantly, Aldric shook her hand, his grip weak and clammy. “We will meet at midnight sharp today.”

“Of course,” Jenny replied, her grin widening. “I can hardly wait.”

After exchanging her chips for coins, Jenny made her way to the privy chamber and softly knocked on the door.

“Are you able to walk now?”

Dravisha crawled toward the door, summoning every ounce of strength to lift herself up enough to open it. She collapsed into Jenny’s waiting arms, unable to stay upright any longer.

Jenny caught her, swinging the demoness’s arm around her neck. She pulled hard to steady her, but the effort proved futile as both of them tumbled to the ground.

“Can you walk?” Jenny asked.

“Maybe… I think so,” Dravisha groaned.

Jenny got to her feet again, helping Dravisha up. She swung the demoness’s arm back across her neck and began taking small, cautious steps forward. With each step, Dravisha groaned in pain. They barely reached halfway across the room before collapsing again, gasping for breath.

“Y’know what? This isn’t working,” Jenny said, her voice strained. She glanced at Dravisha’s miserable form and smirked with sadistic glee.

“What are you thinking?” Dravisha asked, a hint of anxiety creeping into her voice.

“Oh, just a bit of payback for earlier.”

Jenny ducked down and hauled Dravisha up by the waist, slinging her over her shoulder like a sack. The weight was surprisingly manageable, likely due to Jenny’s newfound superhuman strength.

“I see,” Dravisha muttered with a resigned sigh.

The pair made their way to the carriage like this, drawing curious stares from passersby. To Jenny’s annoyance, the demoness didn’t seem to care what others thought.

As they approached the carriage, the waiting chauffeur looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Her drink got spiked by a creep,” Jenny said as an excuse, and Dravisha acted purposefully delirious to sell the story.

The chauffeur nodded, looking apologetic and got down. He opened the carriage door, allowing Jenny to get in. She dumped Dravisha’s body on the soft leather. The Demoness groaned in pain. Her back arched out as she adjusted. Jenny got in beside her and took out a suitcase from under her seat. Her normal clothes were inside. Her bodice, blouse, skirt and great coat. Her saber was also there inside its scabbard. She changed and then notified the chauffeur about the location they needed to go.