"So, RD?" Vincent asked while he sipped whiskey from a glass. "Didn’t know your family was loaded like that."
"I vould not know a-anything about our f...inancial situation," Mr. Valen spoke, his speech slightly slurred. "My dad just got in, says my good grades played a big part."
"RD isn’t just a place you get into with money and good grades," Vincent chid. "I’m going there as well, so are Alice and Sophie."
"That’s aweso," Mr. Valen spoke, his eyes lighting up slightly.
"Yeah," Vincent chuckled, but then caught sothing from the corner of his eyes, Alice, and an enchanting woman who was approaching them.
At that mont, his eyes glead mischievously as he spoke loudly, his tone exaggerated. "Ohh man I still can’t thank you enough for the ten thousand you sent , really helped pay for my sister’s dical bills."
"The fuck?" Mr. Valen muttered to himself, but before he could say anything more, he heard an unfamiliar voice.
"How generous," the voice giggled, its tone prompting Mr. Valen to look in its direction.
It ca from a woman with glowing red eyes, one who smiled at him, her red lips curling. "Hey, I saw you from over there," she said.
"Hey," Mr. Valen responded softly, ’This woman... I took note of everyone in the room upon entry. She wasn’t part of that list.’
anwhile, as Mr. Valen and Athyst spoke, both Vincent and Alice excused them, taking a hint from Athyst, of course.
Her sudden decision to engage with Mr. Valen also seed to confuse the rest of the crowd. Mike seed especially dissatisfied, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Now that Vincent and Alice were gone, the red-eyed woman took her seat close to him and spoke. "I’m Athyst, it’s a pleasure to finally et you, Valen."
’This woman...’ Mr. Valen narrowed his shaky eyes, his voice grim. "Em. Do I know you?"
"No, you don’t know ," Athyst responded before saying. "I’m a reporter for Weird News Daily, and I saw your episode at the cri scene earlier today."
"Ohh," Mr. Valen humd, his form calming slightly. "I’m not telling you anything though, I’ve had enough of speaking to reporters as is-"
"Ohh, no, you don’t have to speak," Athyst shook her head, taking a sip from her glass as she chid. "I’ve looked into you, information about your past is painfully easy to find."
Fighting the urge to doze off, Mr. Valen simply responded. "I have nothing to hide-"
"How ironic," Athyst giggled. "Do you know the aning of the word hide? I believe that everything, the juicy secrets, are hidden in the recesses of your mind."
"Hmm," Mr. Valen humd. "aning is ultimately a quality we impose. What, then, is your aning, Miss Athyst?"
"Careful now Valen, you’re starting to sound less and less like a teenage boy; your person suit is beginning to slip," Athyst mused.
Her words seed to surprise Mr. Valen, prompting him to raise a brow. "You spoke to Miss Carla?"
"We are... Aquaintances," Athyst nodded and picked up Mr. Valen’s glass. "Finish your drink, there is sothing you must see."
Before Mr. Valen could even speak, the woman moved and fed him the drink, his head swarming as the hot liquid burned his throat, but amid that, he felt sothing solid, sothing that carried the faint tang of dicine.
’A PILL?’ he thought in shock, but his mind was already too hazy to resist. "Agh, you d-drugged ?"
"Drugged is such a strong word; it’s more like I gave you a pill to help you relax," Athyst shrugged as she rose.
"Co on, let’s take this party elsewhere," Athyst chuckled, assisting Mr. Valen to get up, their forms tangled as she led the staggering man out of the party.
Simultaneously, Vincent who had been watching from a distance smiled slightly, leaning against his seat as he thought, ’I’m the ultimate wingman, he who makes the unfuckable, fuckable-"
"What’s with that expression?" Sophie’s voice called out from the side, shocking him slightly.
"What?" Vincent asked, his eyes widening slightly.
Shaking her head, Sophie simply quipped, "You have that look that tells you’re thinking about sothing dirty."
Though Sophie spoke to Vincent her eyes were locked at the two figures leaving the room, her lips curled in disbelief.
She wasn’t the only one; people around had similar reactions. Alice looked shocked, wondering why Athyst would take it this far.
On the other hand, the male population of the party harbored a collective feeling of jealousy, so more than others.
All spoke of the attention a woman like Athyst commanded.
anwhile, from Mr. Valen’s point of view, the world had beco a swirling ss of colors and sounds, the edges of his vision blurring like wet paint on a canvas.
The pill (whatever the hell it was) had hit him like a quick shot, and now he was stumbling alongside Athyst, her arm wrapped around his waist like a serpent coiling its prey.
"Relax," she purred, her voice dripping with amusent as she added. "You’re thinking too hard."
"M’not-" Mr. Valen responded, or tried to respond; his tongue felt thick and clumsy. But he still tried to communicate, saying. "Not thinking at all. S’just... loud in here."
At his words, she laughed, a sound like wind chis in a graveyard, as she guided him outside.
The cold night air slapped him awake for half a second before the drug dragged him back under, his thoughts jumbled in his mind.
The experience was maddening; he knew not which thoughts he had spoken aloud and which he had not. Streetlights stretched like taffy, their glow saring across his vision, blinding him.
But he regained his vision just enough to see her car:
A sleek, black sports car that looked more like a predator than a machine.
She swung the door open, pushing him in, and as he collapsed into the passenger seat, he tried to move, but his limbs refused to cooperate.
"Where’re we... going?" he slurred, head lolling against the headrest.
There was a brief mont of stillness as Athyst slid into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life beneath them.
"We’re going sowhere fun," she replied.
"Fun is... subjective," he muttered, watching the city lights streak past like cot tails.
His thoughts were like molasses, slow and sticky, but one thing clawed its way to the surface: ’This woman isn’t just a reporter.’
"You’re not... with the news," he managed, forcing the words through his lips.
"Astute observation," she smirked, taking a sharp turn that pressed him against the door, her form swaying.
Hearing her words Mr. Valen grew curious. "What... d’you want?"
"What does anyone want, Valen?" Athyst asked as her fingers drumd the steering wheel. "Do I want Answers? Secrets? A good story?"
"M’not a story," Mr. Valen argued, his mind slurring further.
"Oh, but you are." Athyst countered, her red eyes flickering to him, gleaming in the dark. "And I love a good twist."
They drove for a while, with Mr. Valen slipping in and out of consciousness.
Soon, the city faded behind them, swallowed by winding roads and thickening trees.
The further they drove, the heavier the weight in his chest grew, a slow, creeping dread, like spiders under his skin.
His heartbeat then grew, pounding in his chest as though his body was trying to warn him of sothing his mind was not yet aware of.
Though Athyst could not see it, Mr. Valen’s pupils had begun to dilate rapidly, as though attuning itself to all sorts of impossible wavelength, spectrums, and states of light was simply unheard of.
Mr. Valen experienced colors like he had never before, colors that had no na, no form, his adjusted and he saw, he saw past the world and into the void glimpsing at the essence of seven higher demons, and then-and then his eyes settled for a mont at a wavelength it was familiar with and he saw sothing-
A flicker of movent in the corner of his eye, a single red and blue butterfly, its wings shimring like fractured glass before dissolving into electric static.
Gone as quickly as it appeared, the drugs hindering his ability to see it completely, but he had seen it and he recognized it.
His breath caught, ’Shit, shit, shit, shit,’ he thought critically.
He then turned to Athyst, his pupils blown wide, his heart hamring against his chest as he spoke. "You’re The Artist!"
Athyst, hearing those words, appeared shocked, her red eyes shooting wide open as she slowly turned to Mr. Valen.
But then her mouth widened so much so that the side of her lips tore revealing thousands of needles like teeth in sothing that was akin to a smile.
"I knew you were different, Valen," she (or it) spoke, its tone alive with glee.
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