The warped: Dark seed saga

The chapel, hidden away off the 5 Freeway, was as unassuming as it got. From the outside, it looked like any other forgotten building, a relic of an old time, just another gaudy structure standing just before the Best Buy and The Block, or by its actual name the Outlets of Orange.

The freeway hummed in the distance, the occasional rush of cars cutting through the stillness like a low, persistent hum. It was a quiet part of town, a secluded stretch of road that almost no one bothered with, except for a few curious drivers heading to the mall. And even fewer people would know that just beyond the rusted gates, hidden away, was where Carlos had set his stage.

Inside, the chapel was something else entirely.

The church stood silent, its stained-glass windows casting muted pools of colored light against the wooden pews. What once was a sanctuary for faith had become a den for something far darker. Candles flickered along the altar, their flames twisting in the airless hush. Rows of figures knelt in the aisles, shadows pooling around their feet, waiting for the voice of their leader.

Carlos leaned back in a worn, high-backed chair near the pulpit, fingers lazily drumming against the armrest. The glow of a laptop screen bathed his face in pale blue, illuminating the wicked smirk playing at his lips. His eyes tracked the flickering security footage—now he was waiting to catch a glimpse of his real prize: Marisol.

His master's next move was inevitable. He had planned it all—each piece of the puzzle clicked into place. The enforcers he'd converted personally were still in position. His siblings, his new family—all bent to his will.

Mephisto's presence lurked at the edges of his mind, a whisper of control, the soft pull of unseen strings. A reminder of where he was supposed to stand.

But Carlos had long since cut those strings.

He had dragged them into the light. Forced them to play.

The game was his now. The rules were his to rewrite.

Soft footsteps approached. A few of his turned followers, clad in various hoodies, lowered their heads before speaking. Their glowing red eyes hidden behind their sunglasses.

"Brother," one murmured. "The others grow restless. They want to bring in more—to expand in your name."

Carlos exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as if chastising children who still hadn't grasped the lesson.

"I already told you brother, Not yet," he said smoothly, voice carrying through the chamber. "We don't get greedy. We don't show our hand. Right now, the humans are awake. Alert. If we push too far, they'll swarm like roaches with their guns and fire. And then what?"

Silence.

Carlos leaned forward, placing his hands on the armrest. "We hunt in the dark. We wait until they can't see us coming. That's how we win. Let the fools that speak our name seem like drunkards and fools."

The gathered figures nodded, murmuring their understanding before retreating back into the recesses of the church.

Soon his true prey would be baited to the place of his rebirth.

"Everything's going exactly as planned."

At his command, the others dragged a struggling figure into the room.

Sophie Miller.

Her wrists were bound, her face streaked with tears and grime. She twisted in their grasp, eyes darting wildly before settling on him. "Carlos, please." Her voice was hoarse, desperate. "You don't have to do this."

He rose from his seat, stepping toward her with a slow, measured gait. The plea only fueled his amusement.

"I really should be thanking you, Sophie," he mused. "Breaking up with me? That was the best thing that ever happened to me. You gave me this glorious purpose." He grinned, fangs glinting in the dim candlelight. "Made me see what I really wanted."

Her breath hitched. "You—did all of this to force me back...?"

"No," he whispered, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, the mockery in his gaze turning sharp. "That was what I wanted before. Now?" He lifted her bound wrist, his grip tightening. "Now I want more."

She twisted violently, yanking against his grip, but his fingers tightened like a vice.

Shadows shifted around them, whispers rising like a low, eager hum. His followers watched in breathless reverence, waiting.

Carlos tilted her wrist, tracing his thumb over her pulse. A silent moment stretched between them.

"You'll join me," he murmured. "We all will. Together, we'll step into the Otherworld, and we'll all take our first steps into paradise together."

Then—he sank his teeth in.

A strangled scream tore from her throat as her body convulsed. Her back arched, veins darkening, something vile seeping into her skin. The change was beginning.

Carlos barely paid her writhing any mind—because his gaze snapped to the screen as a scream played from the speakers. He brushed her tainted body aside, heading back to his screen.

The apartments security cameras showed exactly what he wanted: Mephisto, Eri, his supposed 'brothers', and 'sisters' being ripped apart. A small laugh escaped him. His prey waltzed directly into frame guarded by two of his sisters not in his control... for the first time, Carlos's fingers paused mid-tap against the armrest. Then, slowly, his smirk returned.

Marisol.

Her shadow beasts flanked her, their sleek forms twisting unnaturally, eyes gleaming in the dim hotel lighting. Mephisto stood at her side, and Carlos could see his own enforcers—his turned 'siblings'—being torn apart in the background. The destruction was absolute.

But Carlos only grinned wider.

"Right on cue."

He watched as Marisol and the others pressed forward, unaware that their every move had been anticipated. Unaware that Carlos had been watching. That he had planned for this.

Mephisto's whisper curled at the back of his mind again, but Carlos ignored it. He shrugged it off. He wasn't Mephisto's dog anymore.

"Forget you, you old fart," he murmured, watching the screen flicker. "We'll get to the promised land."

Sophie's breath hitched, her body still trembling in the throes of transformation.

Carlos turned his gaze to her, watching the last flickers of defiance drown beneath the darkness. His smirk widened.

"Welcome home, Sophie."