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Poppy's body was immobilized by the effects of the paralyzing poison, rendering him unable to struggle or even shout. His mouth barely moved, and his attempts to resist were futile against the potent poison coursing through his veins. Michael proceeded to inject a colorless liquid into Poppy's mouth, giving him the ability to speak by giving the antidote to the paralyzing poison around his mouth.

"What are you?" Michael's tone was cold and calculating as he posed his question, leaving Hal and Veer trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. 

The two brothers, unaccustomed to such perilous situations, were captivated by the unfolding drama of seeing Michael hold Poppy captive, a figure who had once been arrogant and disdainful towards them. Their desperation for answers and help overshadowed any reservations they might have had.

"I've never felt like this before," Hal admitted, his anticipation barely contained. The prospect of breaking away from their ordinary lives and facing the unknown intrigued them both.

Poppy's voice wavered as he managed to speak through his paralyzing condition, struggling to comprehend the dire situation he found himself in.

"What kind of twisted sick person are you? I'm Poppy, Griffy's helper," he managed to stammer, only to witness Michael retrieve yet another injection, this time filled with a red liquid.

Poppy's panic escalated as Michael explained the effects of the new potion, the uncertainty of his fate looming before him.

"This will activate all the pain receptors in your body simultaneously. In simple terms, you'll experience excruciating pain in every inch of your being," Michael explained, his voice devoid of empathy.

"No... please... no," Poppy pleaded in desperation.

"I warned you not to lie to me," Michael retorted coldly. As he moved to inject the potion into Poppy's neck, Veer intervened, grasping Michael's hand.

"John, do we really need to go this far? I hate this guy as much as the next guy, but this seems excessive," Veer implored with a hint of compassion in his voice.contemporary romance

"Whose life do you value the most? A fakeling like his or your cousin's?" Michael posed a chilling question, forcing Veer to confront the gravity of their situation. The choice between Poppy's well-being and the life of their missing cousin weighed heavily on his mind. Reluctantly, Veer released Michael's hand, allowing him to administer the painful potion.

"Keep his mouth shut," Michael ordered Hal, who complied willingly due to his deep-seated resentment for Griffy and Poppy. Hal's determination to find Carmella was fueled by an intense hatred that knew no bounds.

As the potion entered Poppy's bloodstream, his screams of agony were stifled by Hal's hand over his mouth.

"Piece of shit," Hal cursed through gritted teeth as Poppy's pain-fueled bite struck his hand.

"Stop biting if you're ready to tell the truth," Michael commanded, his icy gaze fixed on Poppy.

Although Poppy attempted to maintain his resolve, the excruciating pain chipped away at his defenses. He eventually ceased biting Hal's hand as Hal slowly withdrew it.

"You... you three have... no idea... what you're... getting into," Poppy rasped, his words punctuated by labored breaths.

"I've heard that line countless times," Michael remarked, his tone laced with cynicism.

"Now, unless you want me to administer another potion—one far worse than this—tell me who you truly are and what your intentions are," Michael demanded, his voice turned colder.

Poppy's fear was palpable, his eyes darting around in a frantic search for an escape from his dire predicament. The fear and uncertainty that flickered in his eyes were unmistakable to Michael.

"I'll ask you one final time," Michael reiterated, his tone unyielding as he retrieved yet another syringe. This time, the syringe contained a crimson red liquid.

"What's this one for?" Hal inquired, his curiosity piqued by the new concoction.

"He doesn't want to find out, trust me," Michael replied with a sardonic grin, directing his gaze towards Poppy.

In the face of the impending threat, Poppy's resolve began to crumble. Michael's actions spoke louder than words, prompting him to yield to the pressure.

"I am a bloodling!" Poppy's voice wavered slightly as he responded, sending a shock through Veer and Hal.

"A bloodling? What is that?" Veer questioned, his confusion mirroring the unfamiliarity of the term.

"Is this your true form?" Michael inquired, his gaze piercing through Poppy.

"No," Poppy admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and resignation.

"Reveal your true form, and I promise you, I'll release you," Michael offered, his words carrying a genuine undertone. The proposition held a glimmer of hope that resonated with Poppy. 

However, Veer and Hal were equally taken aback by Michael's actions, particularly as he proceeded to inject Poppy with the new crimson-red liquid. The paralysis already coursing through Poppy's body rendered him oblivious to the needle's puncture.

"Give me the antidote for my paralysis," Poppy growled, his frustration evident. Michael acknowledged his demand and retrieved a syringe filled with colorless liquid.

As the liquid flowed into his bloodstream, Poppy experienced the gradual return of motor control. He clenched his hands and flexed his legs, testing his newfound mobility.

"Try anything funny, and I'll crush you like a bug," Michael's cold words resonated as he released his grip, allowing Poppy to fall to the ground.

Poppy scanned the trio of men before him, feeling particularly unnerved by the figure in dark robes.

"Go ahead, reveal your true form," Michael urged.

Yet, Poppy had his own plans. Swiftly conjuring a blood-red sword, he lunged at Michael in a desperate attack. However, he had severely underestimated Michael's reflexes.

In a single, fluid motion, Michael delivered a powerful kick to Poppy's chest, propelling him into the tree. Michael's boot pressed onto Poppy's neck, immobilizing him once again.

"I told you," Michael's voice remained chillingly composed. Despite Poppy's attempts to retaliate, even managing to swing his dagger, Michael deftly disarmed him with a swift kick.

Veer's hesitation lingered as he watched Michael's ruthlessness unfold. Although harboring no sympathy for Poppy, he struggled to witness a living being subjected to such merciless treatment.I think you should take a look at

"John…" Veer's voice wavered with concern, his eyes locked on the struggling bloodling.

"Don't worry. He will show his true self soon,," Michael replied calmly, tightening his grip and applying more pressure to Poppy's throat.

Poppy's struggles intensified under Michael's unyielding boot on his neck. His curses grew more fervent as his face paled, and he gasped for precious air.

"He's dying," Hal's voice trembled as he observed Poppy's dire state.

"You don't have much time," Michael coldly remarked, his grip remaining firm.

Suddenly, a primal roar erupted from Poppy's lips, resonating through the forest. His body contorted as a transformation gripped him. His fair skin took on a sickly, dark green hue, while his nails elongated into sharp, claw-like appendages. His eyes turned a menacing blood red, and his teeth morphed into vicious, shark-like fangs.

  As Poppy's monstrous form stood before them, the truth of his identity was laid bare. The confrontation had led to an unsettling unveiling, increasing the tension and mystery surrounding their quest.

"Well, well, well, look at this ugliness," Michael commented with a touch of amusement. As Poppy's true form was unveiled, Michael lifted his boot off Poppy's neck.

"You've stirred up a hornet's nest that will burn you to the ground. You three are fucked!" Poppy shouted, his anger palpable. With his newfound appearance, he dashed away from Michael, his path leading straight toward Griffy's home.

"He's escaping!" Hal's panic was evident in his voice.

However, Michael let out a chuckle. "Let him go. It's time we pay another visit to Griffy."

Cracking his neck nonchalantly, Michael began to move toward Griffy's home with measured steps, his demeanor composed and unwavering despite the escalating mysteries and dangers that surrounded them.

Michael led the way, flanked by Hal and Veer as they approached Griffy's home. Meanwhile, Poppy sprinted toward Griffy's home, casting glances over his shoulder at Michael and the brothers. His bloodshot eyes were filled with fury, and he couldn't resist hurling curses at the tree as he passed by.

"Stupid motherfucker thinks he's clever, huh?" Poppy muttered through gritted teeth, his voice a venomous snarl. "I'll show him... and that fucking snake too."

His breath was ragged, a mixture of pain, rage, and fear fueling his desperate flight toward the one place he thought could offer refuge. Yet, his curses and insults remained constant, each step echoing with his seething hatred for the group behind him.

As he neared the entrance of Griffy's home, Poppy's heart raced faster. 

"Fucking assholes! I'll rip you apart, you motherfucking son of a bitch!" Poppy's voice was a mixture of rage and desperation as he continued to curse and swear at the group.

Ignoring the torrent of curses from Poppy, Michael strode forward and entered Griffy's home. After a few moments, they arrived at Griffy's doorsteps.

"It's locked," Hal reported after trying the knobs with no success.

"Its not," Michael couldn't help but snicker at the situation. With a confident grin, he raised his foot and delivered a powerful kick, sending the door swinging open.

The forceful entry earned Michael a surge of satisfaction, triggering a sense of nostalgia from his mortal experiences. A fleeting memory of his time in the mortal realm flitted across his mind.

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Stepping inside, Michael found himself in a cozily decorated house, exuding an air of magic and charm. Everything was crafted from wood and neatly arranged, and a warm fireplace added an extra touch of enchantment to the surroundings. The atmosphere reminded Michael of a place straight out of a fairy tale, filling him with a sense of wonder and curiosity.

Upon entering the house, Michael's gaze fell upon Griffy positioned by the window, her back turned to him as she peered outside. Leaning against a sofa, she exuded an air of nonchalance, with Poppy standing at her side.

"Look, it's them. Kill them!" Poppy's voice brimmed with unchecked anger, a surge of fury in the face of their presence.

"Poppy, calm down," Griffy's voice, contrasting Poppy's agitation, resonated with a composed tone as she turned the sofa to face the room. Yet, her attempt at serenity was short-lived when she found herself face-to-face with Michael.

"It's you again," she remarked, an air of annoyance tinging her words. "Young man, you'd better have a damn good reason for laying a hand on and tormenting my humble servant."

"Quit the theatrics, old woman," he retorted sharply. "He's a bloodling posing as a halfling. So, what exactly are you?"

Instead of addressing Michael's question, the old woman simply waved her hand, and with an almost eerie precision, the door sealed shut behind them. Hal, driven by a sense of urgency, hurriedly rushed to the door, attempting to pry it open, but its obstinance defied his efforts.

"Forget what happened here and leave my realm," the old woman's voice dripped with a malevolent undertone, her command laced with dark intent.

Michael calmly shrugged. "Sure thing. Just tell us where Carmella is, and we'll be on our way."

"We know you are hiding her. What have you done to Carmella?" Hal's voice surged with a potent mix of concern and anger, his emotions laid bare.

The old woman's response was a chilling laughter, an echo of her amusement in the face of their outrage.

"I haven't done anything to Carmella," her voice remained calm, and with a single clap of her hands, the room shifted. Soon, the presence of more bloodlings emerged from the shadows. They escorted a young woman with golden hair, garbed in fancy robes that befitted a princess.

"Hal, Veer!" Carmella's voice rang out in a mixture of shock and elation, her astonishment at seeing them evident in her eyes. However, her delight was swiftly overshadowed by fear as her gaze settled on Griffy.

"Go away! I don't need you two!" Carmella's joyful cry transformed into a desperate plea, her eyes wide with a terror that seemed directed not at her cousins, but at the enigmatic figure before her.

"Carmella!" Veer and Hal's excitement surged as they began to move towards her, driven by the relief of finding her. Yet, their urgency halted abruptly when they approached Griffy. In a swift and uncanny motion, the old woman raised her hand, conjuring a fierce blast of wind that tore through the air with violent intent. Hal and Veer were swept off their feet, their forms sent hurtling through the air before being forcefully pinned against the wall.

"Now you are going to pay for everything you have done, young man," Griffy's voice, once calm and collected, took on an otherworldly resonance, transforming into a gruff and thunderous growl that seemed entirely incongruent with her fragile frame. The voice was ancient, bearing a malevolent power that sent shivers down the spines of all who heard it.

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