My Wives are Beautiful Demons

The light rain painted the asphalt with an oily sheen while neon signs flashed in the distance, but there, in that alley hidden between two buildings that seemed abandoned since World War II, everything was darkness and mold.

Katharina followed Kaguya closely, her leather jacket clinging to her body, her eyes alert to every sound, every shadow. The city might be asleep above, but down below, London was bustling—a London that the ordinary world pretended not to see. And perhaps it was better that way.

They stopped in front of a worn iron door, hidden behind a graffitied container. On the doorframe, an almost invisible sign in red paint read: "Crimson Chapel."

Kaguya raised her hand, about to knock, but before she could, a small rectangular window opened with a metallic creak. Two deep yellow eyes stared at them for a moment, fixed, unblinking.

"Password?" growled a cavernous voice.

Kaguya didn't hesitate. She took a step forward, crossed her arms, and replied dryly:

"Open the damn thing."

There was immediate silence. The eyes blinked, as if they had just recognized a creature they didn't expect to see so soon. And then, the little window closed with a snap.

Seconds later, the entire door opened with a heavy creak. The man who unlocked it was a short, bald vampire in a wrinkled suit, but his posture had changed completely. Now he kept his head down and his body hunched over.

"Miss Kaguya... I'm sorry. I didn't know you would come in person..."

"Yeah. Neither did I." She walked past him without even looking, her steady footsteps echoing through the concrete corridor that spiraled downward.

Katharina, still standing in the doorway, glanced at the man, then followed Kaguya. When the voices grew more distant, she leaned in a little and asked curiously:

"So... are you important?"

Kaguya sighed as if she hated talking about her own past, but had resigned herself to the fact that no one would forget it for long.

"My mother isn't very friendly."

Katharina laughed dryly.

"Oh. I understand."

The two walked in silence for a few seconds. The sound of music began to rise from the floor below: a deep, electronic beat mixed with laughter and whispers. The air was heavy with perfume, cheap alcohol, and fresh blood.

"Power is respect," Kaguya murmured, almost as if she were remembering something she had been forced to memorize as a child.

"Power is respect," Katharina repeated beside her, in unison.

It was almost a mantra. Almost a lament.

The bar opened up before them like another world.

In the basement, the Crimson Chapel looked like a desecrated church converted into a nightclub. The original stained glass windows were still there—now tinged with red—and lights pulsed through them like beating hearts. The altar had been converted into a stage for a shirtless vampire DJ, who waved his hands as if commanding the rhythm of the apocalypse.

Creatures of all kinds were there: vampires in velvet suits, enchanted humans, hybrids with snake eyes and lewd smiles. A group of women with exposed fangs danced on illuminated glass coffins, and in the background, waiters with bite marks on their arms served steaming glasses of scarlet liquid.

Katharina paused for a moment, assessing the scene with a mixture of fascination and revulsion.

"It's... definitely more interesting than what I had planned for the evening," she commented, looking at a living gargoyle smoking a cigar at the bar.

Kaguya did not respond. Her eyes were fixed on a table in the corner, where three figures watched the commotion with more attention than usual. Ancient vampires—she recognized that type from a distance. And she knew: if she really wanted to "recruit," that's where she would start.

But before that, they needed to announce themselves.

Kaguya pulled a small dagger from her belt and cut her palm superficially. The blood flowed slowly, like thick wine. She walked across the dance floor, ignoring the stares, and when she reached the altar, she threw the blood on a symbol carved into the floor—an ancient rune, forgotten even by the elders.

The music stopped.

Absolute silence.

All eyes turned to her.

Katharina stood behind her, on guard.

Kaguya then raised her bloody hand and declared in a firm, almost prophetic voice:

"Those who owe will pay. Those who flee will bleed. And those who have courage... will fight by my side."

The eyes of the older vampires flashed.

The silence that hung over the Crimson Chapel was so thick that every breath seemed like an outrage. Kaguya's blood still dripped onto the rune, pulsing with an ancient and arrogant energy—a calculated affront.

But not everyone knew when to remain silent.

A click of the tongue echoed from the back of the hall, breaking the somber spell.

"The noble vampires of Japan... always so dramatic," said a drawling, mocking voice with a French accent. "Blood, runes, speeches... and no sense of humor. It must be the cold in the mountains that freezes the brain."

Everyone turned around.

It was a slender vampire, wearing a purple tailcoat and a crooked top hat. His skin was pale as chalk, and his eyes were red as freshly lit embers. He was standing on a table, a glass of blood spinning lazily between his fingers.

"Around here, we toast before declaring war, madam. It's more civilized. More fun."

Kaguya didn't even turn around.

Katharina raised an eyebrow.

The vampire smiled confidently, raising his cup as if proposing a toast to his own audacity.

"I wonder if your mother would have done better or worse. Bloodthirsty Duchess, wasn't she? Or was she demoted to myth because of incompetence?"

The hall sighed.

And then — clang.

The sound was almost imperceptible, like the click of a blade coming out of its sheath.

The vampire's top hat fell to the floor, cut in half.

A second later, his head rolled to the other side, his eyes still wide open. His body collapsed unceremoniously.

Behind him, standing on the now bloodstained table, was a woman wrapped in a dark, tight-fitting overcoat, her white hair cut close to the nape of her neck. An eye patch adorned the left side of her face, and in her right hand, a black katana still dripped with the remnants of the insult.

The woman lowered the blade elegantly, as if putting away a pen after signing a will.

"Don't offend a lady," she said in a dry tone, with a thick British accent and no trace of emotion.

The bar grew even quieter.

Katharina blinked in surprise. "Your friend?"

"No," replied Kaguya, finally turning around. A discreet smile danced on the corner of her lips. "How are you, Viper."

The woman with the eye patch descended from the table with the grace of a panther, her footsteps silent. She stopped in front of Kaguya...

"I was bored, how about telling me what brings you here... little princess of Japan... Miss Perfectionist in protecting swords." Viper said smiling as her face overflowed with anxiety.