The Devil And His Rose

Rose's surprise was evident as she climbed into the sleek black car, expecting… well, someone else.

But when her eyes landed on the man seated behind the wheel, she realized it was just a driver. A human driver.

There was no sign of him.

Her heart lifted slightly at the realization, a small wave of relief washing over her.

The idea of meeting him—the rogue demon who now owned her life—had been gnawing at her ever since the truth came out. Not seeing him here felt like a reprieve.

Yet, there was an odd twist in her stomach she couldn't ignore. Disappointment?.

She hated to admit it, but part of her wanted to see him. She had questions, endless questions, and her curiosity craved answers.

Shaking the thoughts aside, Rose leaned forward hesitantly. "Um… hello, mister," her voice came out shy, uncertain, barely above a whisper.

Her wide blue eyes met the driver's through the rearview mirror.

"Yes, miss?" he responded respectfully, his tone professional, his gaze only briefly flicking back to her.

"How long till we get to our… destination?" Rose's words felt awkward as they hung in the air. She still didn't even know what this destination was or where it would lead her.

The driver adjusted his grip on the wheel and answered evenly, "About five hours, ma'am."

"Five hours?" Rose repeated, her voice rising with disbelief. She leaned back against the seat, her brows furrowing in frustration.

"Yes, ma'am," the driver confirmed without a hint of emotion, his hands steady on the wheel.

"Damn, that's long," she muttered under her breath, pulling out her phone from the pocket of her hoodie. She glanced at the screen to check the time—6:48 p.m.

Her brows knitted tighter as she did the mental math. Five hours. That meant they wouldn't arrive until nearly midnight. Midnight.

Why midnight? Was there some specific reason for the timing, or was it just coincidence?

She let out a heavy sigh, her thumb swiping absentmindedly across her screen.

If this was going to be a long ride, there was no way she'd just sit here stewing in her thoughts for five hours straight. She'd drive herself insane before they even arrived.

"Well," she mumbled to herself, sliding her phone back into her pocket, "if it's going to take that long, I might as well sleep."

She shifted in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position as the car hummed softly beneath her.

But no matter how much she adjusted, the anxiety bubbling beneath her skin refused to let her relax.

Still, she closed her eyes, determined to block everything out. She didn't want to think about what awaited her at the end of this journey. She didn't want to think about him.

But even as she drifted off, the questions lingered in the corners of her mind.

Rose didn't know how long it had been, but she felt someone's hands gently shaking her, pulling her from her sleep.

Blinking slowly, it took her a moment to process that they'd reached their destination. Her hand reached for her phone, the screen lighting up to reveal the time—12 a.m. sharp.

Her chest tightened. Midnight. The realization that she was now officially eighteen felt oddly final.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, or maybe not. Who even knew at this point?

Turning her head toward whoever woke her, she found herself staring at a blonde maid.

She was strikingly beautiful, with delicate features and pointed ears—an elf. The sight caught Rose off guard.

"Miss, you've arrived at your destination. Do you need help with anything?" the maid asked, her soft voice polite but somehow distant, as though rehearsed.

"Ah, um, yes. Just my suitcase," Rose replied, motioning awkwardly toward the trunk.

The maid nodded, walking briskly to the trunk to retrieve the bag. Meanwhile, Rose stepped out of the car, the chill of the night air biting at her skin.

The driver, who'd been silently waiting, closed the car door behind her with precision, as if even the smallest movement had been practiced a thousand times.

Her gaze lifted to the mansion in front of her, its silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the moon.

The dark stone exterior was grand yet foreboding, its sharp edges casting ominous shadows across the ground.

As she started down the pathway, her blue eyes caught the rows of black roses planted along either side. Of course, they had to be black.

They shimmered faintly in the moonlight, their beauty undeniable, but the lack of any other color made the place feel... dead.

She sighed. A little color wouldn't hurt, she thought. This place could use it.

Reaching the massive front doors, she paused, hesitating. Before she could make a move, the doors groaned open on their own, the sound echoing through the silent night.

"Well, that's... not ominous," Rose muttered under her breath, stepping forward cautiously.

Her steps faltered as the sight inside froze her in place. A line of workers stood on either side of the dimly lit hallway, their heads bowed.

Their posture was unnervingly rigid, their forms so still they looked more like statues than people.

Rose's heart raced. Her eyes darted down the line, trying to find where it ended, but the hallway stretched into darkness, swallowing everything in sight.

Why is it so dark? Where are the lights? she thought, dread creeping up her spine. There was no way she was walking into that. Midnight.

Workers standing eerily still. No lights. It all screamed ritual sacrifice.

She turned slightly, ready to tell the maid there was no way she was stepping inside when, suddenly, the lights flickered on.

Rose flinched, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness. When she lowered her hands, the scene was no longer terrifying, but it still wasn't comforting.

The workers remained in their lines, heads still bowed, but now they looked less like statues and more like an unnervingly disciplined group.

Still unmoving. Still staring at the floor.

"Miss, is something the matter?" the maid asked, her tone uncertain as she stood behind Rose, gripping the suitcase.

Rose blinked, snapping out of her trance. "Uh…" She tucked a strand of her white hair behind her ear, trying to compose herself.

"Are they... okay?" she asked, motioning toward the workers with a tilt of her head, her eyes never leaving them.

"They've been waiting for you to walk in and release them," the maid explained matter-of-factly, her hands tightening slightly on the handle of the suitcase.

Rose's face flushed with embarrassment as the realization sank in. They've been standing here this whole time because of me?

She cleared her throat, quickly stepping inside the mansion. Before she could say a word, the workers moved in unison, their voices ringing out in perfect harmony:

"Welcome home, miss."

Rose froze. Home?

The word echoed in her mind, settling uncomfortably in her chest as the heavy doors shut behind her with a deep, resonant thud.