Master of Lust

Chapter - 112

The room lay cloaked in an impenetrable darkness, the only illumination emanating from the ethereal glow of the moon as it spilled through the window, casting a feeble light on the scene. Rick, oblivious to the nocturnal proceedings, lay sprawled across the bed, ensnared in the clutches of deep slumber.

Surprisingly, the rabbit had found an oddly comfortable perch atop his stomach, its tiny form rising and falling with each rhythmic breath of its human companion.

As the clock struck past midnight, the door groaned open, an eerie creak slicing through the silence. A mysterious silhouette slipped into the room, moving with the grace and precision of a seasoned ninja. The intruder, a figure shrouded in shadows, advanced with careful steps, ensuring that the floor beneath remained undisturbed.

The enigmatic figure surveyed the surroundings with an air of caution, eyes darting around the dimly lit chamber. With a vigilant gaze fixed upon the peacefully slumbering Rick, the intruder took a moment to assess the situation. Satisfied that the room held no unexpected guests or prying eyes, the silhouette was revealed to be none other than Martin, Evelina's uncle and Jack's younger brother.

Squinting in the muted moonlight, Martin confirmed that Rick was deeply immersed in his dreams. Nodding to himself, he proceeded to glide noiselessly towards the bed.

As Martin approached the bed, a curious twist of amusement played on his lips as his eyes fell upon the rabbit's peculiar sleeping posture. With its stomach facing the roof, its legs were splayed out in odd angles, an unintentional display of flexibility that elicited a bemused reaction from Martin.

Suppressing a chuckle, he couldn't resist muttering to himself, "What on earth is wrong with that rabbit? Looks like it's auditioning for a yoga class."

His focus then shifted to Rick, still blissfully unaware of the nocturnal visitor. Martin reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. With careful precision, he navigated the room, mindful not to disrupt the rabbit's comically contorted repose.

As Martin drew closer to the bed, an unintended mishap occurred. His foot connected with a small toy lying on the floor, setting it in motion with an unpredictable trajectory. The room echoed with the unexpected bounce, causing both Rick and the rabbit to stir. The rabbit's ears moved, for a moment, scaring Martin, but fortunately, they resettled into their respective realms of sleep.

Just as Martin was about to make his way close to Rick's headside, the rabbit, seemingly roused by the subtle disturbance, sat up on Rick's stomach, fixing Martin with a gaze that radiated curiosity from its large, beady eyes. Martin froze in place, a realization dawning upon him — he now had an unexpected audience to his clandestine activities.

Caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, Martin hesitated for a fleeting moment before revealing a small, sharp knife that glinted menacingly under the moon's silvery light. His white eyes, reflecting the eerie glow, remained fixed on Rick as he stealthily approached the bed, an air of sinister intent cloaking his every movement.

Each step Martin took was calculated, his intentions shrouded in dubious motives as he hovered near the oblivious Rick. The knife in his hand gleamed ominously as he readied it, prepared to strike at any moment. The room, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, hung in an oppressive stillness, the air thick with the palpable anticipation of a sneaky attack.

Just as Martin poised the knife for a swift strike, the rabbit, seemingly aware of the impending danger, exhibited uncanny speed. In a surprising twist, it twisted its body and released a stream of something that sparkled under the moonlight. The liquid sailed through the air with an almost mystical quality, hurtling straight for Martin's face.

Surprised, Martin recoiled, instinctively moving his face away from the oncoming stream. In a reflex action, he slashed the knife through the air, hoping to ward off the unexpected assault. However, to his profound astonishment, the knife passed harmlessly through the sparkling stream, leaving Martin bewildered and confounded by the surreal nature of the encounter.

In the split second that followed, the rabbit's sparkling stream found its mark, landing squarely on Martin's chest and soaking him from head to toe. The substance possessed an otherworldly glow, transforming Martin into a surreal figure that seemed to have stepped out of a fairy tale.

Martin stood there, dripping and utterly befuddled. The rabbit, perched on Rick's stomach, regarded him with what could only be described as a triumphant expression. The room, which had been charged with suspense just moments ago, now presented a bizarre tableau, featuring a wet and disoriented Martin alongside a mischievously grinning rabbit.

A pungent odor, unmistakable and unpleasant, assaulted Martin's nostrils as he became acutely aware of his soaked state. The repugnant combination of anger and dizziness swirled within him, intensified by the overwhelming smell that clung to his once-dry jacket.

His eyes, now ablaze with fiery rage, darted down to the sodden fabric clinging to him unpleasantly. The dampness served as a visual of the humiliation he'd just experienced. The anger within him surged, overwhelming any semblance of reason and replacing it with an unrestrained fury.

Gritting his teeth, Martin's simmering rage turned into a burning desire for vengeance. His glazed eyes fixed on the rabbit, which had caused this indignity. The knife, still clutched tightly in his hand, became a tool of impending retribution.

With unsteady steps, Martin advanced towards the rabbit, a sinister glint in his eyes. He raised the knife, the moonlight reflecting off its gleaming blade. The room, once a haven for quirky moonlit antics, now crackled with tension.

However, as Martin prepared to strike, an unexpected warmth spread across his chest. At first, it was a soothing heat, almost comforting. But soon, the warmth escalated, turning into an uncomfortable burn.

Confusion and pain twisted Martin's features as he grappled with the sudden change. The room filled with the acrid scent of burning, adding another layer to the bizarre sequence of events. The heat on his chest intensified, and Martin couldn't ignore the growing discomfort.

Unable to resist the pain any longer, Martin's gaze shifted downward to his chest. His eyes widened in disbelief as he beheld a surreal sight. The fabric of his jacket was melting away, revealing his pale, bare skin underneath.

The moonlight illuminated the bizarre transformation, casting an eerie glow on Martin's melting attire. His shirt disintegrated like wax under a scorching flame, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

A mixture of shock, pain, and embarrassment flickered across Martin's face as he grappled with the reality of his disintegrating jacket. The once intimidating Martin now stood in the moonlit room, reduced to a state of undress by an unforeseen, mystical force.

As Martin's jacket dissolved under the bizarre effects of the rabbit's mystical urine, an unforeseen consequence unfolded. The liquid, which made contact with Martin's exposed skin, triggered an alarming reaction. The once indestructible vampire, believed to be immune to various mortal ailments, now found himself subject to an unexpected and agonizing transformation.

A searing pain surged through Martin's body as his flesh began to burn and rot. The mythically resilient vampire, accustomed to a life unencumbered by such mortal afflictions, now writhed in torment. His anguished cries pierced the air, echoing the room that had moments ago been filled with the tension of impending revenge.

The urine, a force unbeknownst to Martin, had initiated a chain reaction on the vampire's otherwise invulnerable skin. The once-pale complexion now bore the brunt of an otherworldly assault, as if subjected to an inferno of mythical proportions.

The unexpected turn of events left Martin in a state of shock and vulnerability. His attempts to resist the pain were futile as the burning sensation intensified, each passing moment bringing a new level of torment. The room, once a stage for quirky moonlit encounters, was now witness to a vampire's struggle against a mystical force.

The rabbit, chilling on Rick's stomach like it's no big deal, watched the whole vampire meltdown with total detachment. The whole situation was just too absurd — a vampire getting wrecked by what seemed like harmless bunny pee. It was like a reminder of how wild and unpredictable the mystical world could get.

While Martin was busy screaming his lungs out, that rabbit stayed cool as a cucumber. The night, which had kicked off with someone trying to go after the rabbit, turned into this crazy show where the hunter became the hunted. All thanks to the mysterious mojo of a seemingly normal rabbit.

In the middle of all this supernatural chaos, Rick stayed knocked out, blissfully unaware of the freak show happening on his stomach. The room, lit up by the moon, was the stage for this bizarre twist in the tale. The so-called vampire invincibility was no match for the weird forces at play.

In the quiet of the moonlit room, Martin's screams were like a haunting reminder of what happens when you underestimate the magical powers of a rabbit and its peculiar stream.

Martin was seriously losing it, thanks to that cursed rabbit pee. The supernatural torture was driving him nuts, and he just couldn't take it anymore. So, in a pretty messed-up move, he grabbed the knife he had originally prepped for Rick.

With this creepy determination in his eyes, Martin went all in, slicing into his own flesh. The knife glinted in the dim moonlight as he went to town on himself. Every cut made this gross squelching sound as the vampire skin gave in to the blade.

Bits of rotting flesh just fell to the ground, painting a seriously messed-up picture of the agony Martin was going through. The room, which used to be quiet except for his cries, now looked like a horror show brought to you by a rabbit's messed-up magic.

The whole place reeked of blood and that nasty burning flesh stench, turning the scene into a freaky mix of horror and surreal craziness. Martin's quest for revenge had backfired big time, thanks to underestimating the rabbit's mojo, and now he was stuck in this seriously messed-up self-torture.

While Martin was going all medieval on himself, the rabbit just chilled on Rick's stomach like it was watching some twisted comedy. The power dynamic had flipped big time, and Martin was caught up in a nightmare of his own making.

Rick, still snoring away, was blissfully clueless about the whole circus happening around him. The moonlit room, now tainted with the stench of blood and decay, became a stage for the unexpected fallout of messing with the mystical vibes of what seemed like an innocent rabbit.

"Never thought you had it in you," someone sneered at Martin while he was going full-on psycho, slicing into himself and desperately trying not to scream, all while letting out muffled groans. The mocking voice continued, "You're a real man, Martin."

With sweat pouring down his face, Martin looked up and locked eyes with Rick, who was giving him this creepy smile. Suddenly, Martin's heart did a little panic dance.

Sure, Martin was on a mission to off Rick, but the truth was, he was kind of terrified of the guy too. Whatever went down in his mom's room turned out to be one hell of a shocker. Martin had come here to end Rick, but now he was the one inching closer to turning into a human porcupine. Talk about a plot twist.

"You... You knew all along... Hiss," Martin hissed in pain as he sliced off another chunk of his flesh right above his stomach. The corrosion was spreading, but Martin was banking on the fact that cleanly cutting it off would put a stop to the nasty crawl. And lucky for him, if he would cut off the flesh cleanly, the spread would stop.

The crimson stains of blood and fragments of Martin's own flesh adorned every conceivable surface—his body, garments, the flooring, and the bed itself. The macabre display resembled a disturbed art installation, where the visceral agony suffered by Martin served as the unsettling medium for this grotesque composition.

The visual impact of the disarray in the room was both horrifying and surreal, painting a vivid picture of the self-inflicted ordeal and the consequential aftermath.

"That you were behind poisoning of your mother. Pretty much yeah," Rick with his elbows supporting his head got comfortable on the bed, "Or that you will come to permanently make me asleep tonight. I had a hunch."

"How did you…"

"Know?" Rick chuckled, "Easy. Your not-so-bright big brother lacks the brains to pull off something like this solo. You, my friend, play the fool, and that's a whole different game."

"But guess what?" Rick continued smirking, "There's someone even slicker than you pulling your strings, convincing you to waltz into my room and play assassin. It's like one boss over the other, and another one pulling the strings over that. It's a nutty pyramid scheme, man."

"But to get played by Geoffrey? Your own butler? What did he bribe you with? Offer you Jack's head?" Rick mocked with a throat-slicing gesture, "That's some serious brotherly love. I might shed a tear."

Martin, still processing this bombshell, stammered, "How the hell do you know all this?" His brain was fried, and he nearly forgot about the whole 'my-flesh-is-burning' situation.

"I've got a little informant," Rick said, smirking as he patted his rabbit on the head, "Would you believe it if I said Geoffrey spilled the beans?"

"He could never," Martin shot back, his bloodshot eyes wide with pain, "He promised me that after Jack poisoned our mother, we'd get him out of the picture. He promised me..."

"You're just another gullible pawn with good acting skills, huh? You played Martin's game, and now you're crying because he pulled a fast one on you, tossing you into the lion's den?" Rick shook his head, disappointed.

"The only thing you've got on Jack is your acting chops. If only you'd used that talent for something worthwhile. Instead, you're begging your niece for a measly few million, and now you've chopped that hand too." Rick looked at Martin with pity, "Think she'll still bankroll you? Or will she see you as the backstabber who tried to off her old man?"

"Or maybe she'll be pissed that you couldn't even do the one thing she expected from you?" Rick said, raising an eyebrow.

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