Zharqasti's Thirst

Ru was cold. He wore a red blindfold and was partially unclothed. He was tied with shackles to his wrists and ankles. This was a position he was familiar with. Once again, he found himself on a platform, forced into a pose that echoed Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian Man.

He wanted to say, "Fuck you, psycho," but he couldn't.

He sensed a gentle touch on his lips. "Hush," the voice murmured softly.

"Who are you? What are you trying to do?" Ru asked through clenched teeth.

"I'm trying to keep you a virgin," said the whisper, touching his ear.

"Stay away from me, pervert," Ru snarled.

"Tsk tsk, you're so rude," said the whisper, moving away a little.

"Hey, you're that psycho painter," Ru said, taking a whiff of the air. But then he paused and decided to think differently. He caught a whiff of a lovely scent, something almost magical. "Nah, you're someone else."

"True," the whisper said.

"I would refer to you as King Ru, but to be frank, this is not a perfume that I would purchase," Ru stated. He glanced to the left and right before gradually bringing his outstretched arms down. He said with a gentleness and sweet tone, "Come on, untie me. We would talk, sweetie."

"Flirting, huh?" Whoever he was, he was definitely surprised by this. But he couldn't help holding Ru's waist.

Ru tensed as the foreign hand moved from his waist to his stomach. "You had a goal of keeping me a virgin."

"Without touching you," a captivating male voice remarked, as he pulled his hand away. "I might drive you insane."

"You're going to fuck my brains out, I mean," Ru grumbled.

The man's hand pressed his lips tightly together. "This beauty, this abusive mouth... what a contrast."

Ru's fury shook the platform. No longer the frail child of his past, he stood as a young man; his strength was clearly visible in every muscle of his body. But as he pulled and strained against the handcuffs that bound his wrists, he realized the futility of his efforts.

Finally, Ru bowed his head and waited for the man to let go of him.

"Well done," the man said and removed his hand.

"What do you want?" Ru asked. "Except that I remain a virgin."

The man's laughter seemed to ripple through the air like a forbidden melody. Ru could feel the vibrations of it against his skin.

"What do I want?" the man repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "Oh, Ru, you always ask the wrong questions. It's not about what I want. It's about what you need."

Ru shook the platform and growled, "I need you to untie me and stop talking in riddles."

The man chuckled again, the sound closer now, as if he were circling Ru. "You need to understand your place in all of this. You're not just a pawn, Ru. You're the linchpin. The one who holds the threads of this unraveling tapestry together."

"Great," Ru muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So I'm the chosen one. Can I get a refund on this destiny? I didn't sign up for it."

The man's hand lightly touched Ru's back and traveled along his spine. "You didn't have to sign up for it. It chose you." His hand stopped at Ru's coccyx. "Just as I chose you."

Ru pushed himself forward. "You didn't choose me. You trapped me. There's a difference."

"Oh, you are chained," the man said, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "But at least you're still yourself."

"Myself? Who is that?" Ru questioned. "A sacrificial lamb? A puppet? A virgin tied to a platform for your entertainment?"

This time, the man's laughter was softer, almost tender. "You are the trap itself." Even though he removed his hand as he lowered it to Ru's hip, an imaginary shiver remained.

"What are you saying?" Ru's chest heaved as he struggled against the shackles again, the metal biting into his skin. "Am I a trap?"

"You are a bitter honey." The man's breath against Ru's ear. "A honey that attracts immortals."

"Meh!" Ru shrugged. "I have no business dealing with the immortals. Untie me, and I'll go."

The man's hand came back, cradling Ru's chin and lifting his face upward. Ru sensed the weight of his stare, penetrating even the fabric that obscured his vision. "I am a dragon."

"See, that was great," Ru said with enthusiasm. "I've always wanted to ride a dragon."

"I was joking." The man paused, his thumb brushing over Ru's bottom lip. "There are many runes on your body, but they are hidden when I look at them. Why?"

"You should ask King Ru," Ru said and tried to turn his head. He saw that he couldn't do it and took a deep breath. "The witch has the genie. Why don't you go and ask her?"

"Okay," the man conceded. "So you don't care that much?"

"Yes," Ru replied. "All I want is to make music and live straight."

"Live then, the man said simply, and his hand dropped away.

From then on, the air around Ru shifted. The scent of sandalwood faded, replaced by the dizzy tang of paint thinner.

"Wait!" he called out, his voice echoing in the emptiness. "Don't you dare leave me like this!"

But there was no response. Only silence. And in that silence, Ru felt the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him, heavy and unrelenting.

"Damn it," Ru shouted, his voice raw and desperate. Even though the metal of the chains cut into his wrists and ankles, he pulled with all his strength. The platform beneath him creaked, the chains rattling with each feeble pull. His muscles ached with intensity, breath escaping in heated bursts, while beads of sweat glistened as they cascaded down his form.

Despite his unawareness, he provided a visual feast for those observing him.

Ru was the centerpiece of a large art studio filled with blood and dark-themed canvases, dried palettes, paintbrushes and unfinished sculptures. The platform on which he hangs was located in the middle of the workshop. The light was flowing onto the platform like a gilding and illuminating only it.

The man who had irritated Ru was making his way towards the silver-framed painting adorning the opposite wall. That painting was about a vampire's dinner. Lord Dekaris Zharqasti was sitting at his table, where a naked young woman with a pierced throat was lying, looking at the platform with his shining eyes.

When the man reached the painting, the dry paints of the painting quickly became wet and rippled with a flood of light.

When the man entered the painting, the colors solidified again. And a new figure emerged alongside the vampire lord: Heise.

Heise was dressed in enough red to liven up the stale bloody painting. He walked with his fabrics flying, hoping that maybe someone would see him, and sat at the table. He raised his eyebrows and glanced at the young woman, who was on the brink of death, and remarked, "You must not leave your dirty plates on the table, my lord."

"Well," Lord Dekaris leaned forward; his voice echoed faintly through the large, shadowy hall. "How is Snow Boy?"

Heise looked up at the "Hanging Ru" painting that adorned the dining room. The figure was moving, albeit slightly. "Defiant as ever."

Lord Dekaris's glowing eyes narrowed. "At some point, he will compromise."

Heise hesitated for a second, his gaze falling to Ru's heaving chest. "I wonder if the monarch is pleased with this view?"

"The majesty wanted to see, and he does," Lord Dekaris muttered, grinning slyly. Immediately afterwards, he extended his hand to Heise, making the "give" gesture.

"Not a good idea, my lord," Heise said, showing his hesitation, extending the bottle of crystal potion that held a small quantity of reddish-pink liquid. "I warn you again, his blood may make you addicted."

“I’m not foolish enough to drink it,” Lord Dekaris hissed. He raised the vial to his eye level and gave it a gentle shake. The blood swirling within it glimmered. Its color flowed from Dekaris's eyes to his nose like a sugary scent, brushing against his tongue and stirring his lifeless heart with a thrill of excitement.

"You will find it impossible to resist, my lord," Heise whispered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "You'll savor just one drop," he remarked, casting a sidelong glance at Dekaris. "And congratulations, you are now in Ru's service." Seeing the passion in the lord's eyes, Heise gently took his hand and guided him to set the bottle aside. "Eternally..."

Lord Dekaris's expression darkened, his glowing eyes flickering like embers. "What about my sister? What will happen to her?"

"Lady Moni's case is different," Heise started, somewhat cautiously. "She will not consume blood. She will be brought back to life through blood."

"If she becomes addicted to Ru's blood..." Lord Dekaris said, voice was cold.

"No problem," Heise said, looking at him intently, scrutinizing him. "You can remove Ru from the house and confine him in your own dungeon."

"But the monarch," Dekaris said, his voice taut with tension.

"The monarch will be yours," Heise stated, rising from the chair and circling the table. He positioned himself before Lord Dekaris. "If you follow my instructions," he added with a smile. He then removed the cover and let the lifeless woman fall to the ground.

Shortly after, he gestured to the smartly uniformed butler waiting in the shade. "Sweep her up so she doesn't stink."