CHAPTER 25
THE UNHOLY TRINITY

THE image of Evie Gallant's bloodied body haunted Coraline all night. She hardly had a good night's rest since Michael's arrival, but last night had been the worst above all. Every dream she had featured the older woman lying in her bed, bleeding out from multiple stab wounds. What Coraline would give to just forget.

Like usual, Coraline pushed the vision to the back of her mind. She tended to do this a lot during stressful situations, and began to focus on other less important things. Currently, she was obsessed with her breasts appearing even in the dress she wanted to wear for dinner that night. The corset certainly wasn't helping with the overall look, nor did it make her feel comfortable whatsoever.

Coraline pulled up the bejeweled collar of her violet dress, shoving one of her breasts up to make it even with the other, while also trying not to push it all the way out. She didn't even want to imagine that happening at dinner. Clothing at the Outpost didn't have to be so complicated, but it was one of Venable's many rules. She wondered who even picked out the dresses in her closet, seeing as they were all so casually revealing. Probably some horn-dog male from the Cooperative.

Pulling half of her hair up, Coraline shook out the remaining strands of her bob and turned in the mirror. Sure, the outfits were unnecessary, but she did grow to like these dresses. She'd like them even better if she didn't have to wear such an uncomfortable corset.

Slipping on a pair of comfy flats, she made her way to the exit for dinner. Coraline was especially starving today. Somehow, the sight of a murdered Evie didn't do so well for her appetite until the last remaining minute. Yanking the door handle open, Coraline began to walk out of her suite, until her chest clashed with something hard. Her eyes adjusted to the tall figure in front of her, causing her to step back instantly.

"Good evening, Coraline," Michael greeted with a sickly sweet smile.

Coraline cocked a brow upward. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," he replied quickly, eyes sliding down to admire her gown. "Lovely dress."

"Look," she sighed, slapping a hand against the doorframe, "as much as this conversation is thoroughly engrossing, I have to attend dinner."

As Coraline started to push him aside, Michael placed his hand on top of her own, blocking her way. Coraline looked up and noticed he was wearing red leather gloves. Their connection pulsated through the fabric, the threads already tying their skin together, but it was faint. Coraline hardly felt it, yet it still made her heart beat quicken.

"I've excused you from dinner this evening," he continued.

Coraline quickly slipped her hand from underneath his glove. "And why is that?" She smirked wickedly. "Do you plan on slicing me up finally? You did imply last week that it could be imminent. My only request is that my death is quick."

Michael grinned, but it wasn't in a joking matter. In fact, every curl of his lips had her blood running cold and made her legs shake. "It's time for the second part of your questioning," he explained, turning on his heel. "Follow me."

She shut her eyes for a moment. With a shake of her head, Coraline wondered just when she'd be able to escape this hell. At first, she thought surviving the Apocalypse meant she may be in God's good graces – if her mother had been correct about His existence – but this place was clearly her own personal hell.

Coraline hesitantly followed Michael, remaining just a foot away. He turned the knob to his suit and held it open for her. Coraline's eyes lingered on his gloves as she walked past. Red surrounded her entire vision, and all Coraline wanted was to feel the heat of that leather again. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and immediately sat down before his desk, without being told to do so. When she turned to look at Michael entering the suite, she wondered if he could read her enticing thoughts, judging from the smirk on his lips. She hoped not.

With a loud huff, Michael sat on the edge of his desk. Coraline was abruptly reminded of him saying professionalism wasn't his forte. He really wasn't kidding, she thought, gaze sliding up to his own as he inched closer to her, yet far away enough to not let his leg touch her dress. As he looked down at her, Coraline was suddenly aware of how her chest was literally spilling out of her dress. Maybe it wasn't the night to wear this particular gown, or maybe it could work in her favor.

"This won't take long," Michael assured her. "I only have a few questions."

Coraline chuckled sarcastically. "That's almost the same thing you said about your interviews, and it's been two weeks since you got here."

"Furthermore," he continued, acid spewing from his tone, "these questions required another interview because they call for detailed answers."

Coraline leaned back in the leather chair, feeling the warmth of the fire radiating from the hearth. She twisted a short strand of brown hair in her finger. Michael's eyes raked down her figure in the most unsettling way possible, making her want to immediately leave the room. However, another side of her simply wanted him to keep staring. Admiration, she thought. Coraline always loved to be admired. It was a flaw, but she also found the act of worshipping weirdly attractive.

She didn't find him all that attractive, though. No, definitely not. Maybe she did at one point, when they were younger. She might've even been in love with him, but things had changed. They had grown up. Wasn't it morally unethical to want to sleep with your superior anyways? Out of all things, Coraline Avery was not unethical.

Michael licked his lips and finally glanced back to her eyes. "Tell me," he muttered, raising his chin, "what do you desire most?"

She looked away, realizing that she had been staring at his mouth for far too long. The perfume of death was clogging her senses. Swallowing hard, Coraline tried to regain her calm composure and shrugged. "I ... I don't know."

"There must be something," Michael dismissed, tilting his head to the side. "Why don't you know?"

Coraline wrinkled her nose and stared ahead. The perfume was fucking everywhere. She wanted to leave the room just so she wouldn't have to smell the beautiful rose scent anymore, but the threads were tying her to him.

"I guess ..." She sighed, lacing her fingers together. "I want a lot of things. It's kind of hard to pinpoint one after the End." Slowly, she turned to face him again. His stare alone could burn holes into her skin, and attack her mind like a curse. "Which ... I'm assuming you caused."

Michael lifted a brow, an amused expression lighting up on his face. "And how would you know that?"

Coraline bit her bottom lip so hard that she thought she drew blood. The memories were coming back. All the decoding she did after he left, all the titles she researched – they were crawling out from the depths of her subconscious. She had to acknowledge his true title.

"You can go around explaining to everyone how you're part of this Cooperative, but I know the truth." She settled more into her seat, trying to remain as casual as possible, as if the truth spilling from her mouth wasn't shaking her insides. "I remember what Miriam used to call you," she continued, voice lowering to a whisper. "The Chosen One. I did some digging after you left."

Michael was leaning in now, invading her space, and surprised when she didn't push him back. He watched her inhale his scent like an addict. "What did that digging tell you?"

Coraline clenched her teeth for a moment. "The Chosen One in the Satanic religion ..." She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat, quickly averting her grey eyes from his baby blues. "Also known as the Antichrist — will bring the End of Days."

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" He asked, a corner of his mouth turning up.

Coraline's stare narrowed. "I also remember you saying at the dance that you wanted to, and I quote –" She used her fingers to resemble quotation marks. "–'Take down every bad person by ending the world.' Words like that can engrave themselves in someone's memory, Michael. That doesn't really keep your title a secret."

"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret from you."

She paused and wondered if the rose perfume was making her delusional. At that moment, she could've sworn his face had softened.

The silence seemed to last for minutes, but Coraline couldn't stop staring at him, and debating if the boy she knew was still in this man's body. Finally, she whispered, "Why ... Why didn't you come after me? After the ball?"

Michael froze, as if she struck a nerve. "This is your interview and not mine, Coraline." He realized after a long moment that she wasn't giving up, causing him to sigh loudly. "It wasn't on my to-do list."

That got her blood pumping.

"IT WASN'T ON YOUR TO-DO LIST?!" She shrieked, leaning forward in her chair to seethe violently at him. She hoped her spit hit his face, even though Michael truly never minded things like that. In fact, he thought of it as her marking her territory, and he liked it.

Their faces were a foot from each other. Despite her fierce demeanor and vicious tone, Michael wasn't phased by it one bit. His brow shot up as she huffed and puffed at him, waiting desperately for a sadistic response back.

Instead, Michael replied, "Are you done with your tantrum?"

With a furious glare, Coraline slammed her back against the chair again, refusing to answer. Michael smiled and straightened his posture. "I do believe you haven't answered the question yet, Coraline Rose," he continued. "What do you desire most?"

The nickname sent a shiver down her spine. Coraline's jaw shifted as she looked to her hands. In a low voice, she said, "I want to see my mom."

"Oh, Francesca," Michael snapped his fingers at the familiar name. "How is she?"

Coraline knitted her brow together. "She was killed in the explosions."

Michael's lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but he knew nothing could make up for that part of his plan. He ended up standing from his desk, smoothing out his black dress shirt, and circled around Coraline's chair. She continued to stare ahead, even when his gloved hand hovered across her shoulders.

"Well, I'm going to let you know my greatest desire, Coraline." He stopped right behind her, gripping the back of her chair tightly. Her skin burned hot as she fought to urge to take his hands and –

God, she thought, get your head out of the gutter!

Michael smirked, completely aware of her raw thoughts. "My desire is to rebuild," he replied eloquently. "After the End, someone needs to rebuild. Someone needs to create life again. Someone needs to create a new national order. I want to rebuild the world." His gloved fingers lingered near her bare shoulders, causing her armpits to sweat. "In order to do this, a bond must be created through an important ceremony. Specifically, this is the bond of the Unholy Trinity."

Coraline swallowed down the bile rising in her jugular, and before she could breathe, Michael was spinning her chair around to face him. She froze in her seat, wondering if the movement gave her whiplash. Michael stood tall and proud before her, and she simply sank down in the chair.

"Do you know what that is?" He asked softly. Coraline's body went numb, and all she could do was shake her head. "The Unholy Trinity is the definition of chaos and deception. It consists of my Father, the Antichrist, and the False Prophet." He was looking at her mouth again, and she felt the need to shift her stare immediately, but she couldn't. "The False Prophet predicts the source of Armageddon, then the Antichrist and his Father carry it out. They will usher in the End Times, yet they will only be able to rebuild through the bonding ceremony."

"The bonding ceremony?" She repeated, quirking a brow upward.

Michael slowly knelt down to her level and slipped off one of his red gloves. Coraline watched every move he made with a keen interest. After a moment of hesitation, his fingers inched up her thigh – making her legs squeeze themselves shut – before finally grabbing her hand. Her lap was trembling from his hand just being so close, but then she noticed the energetic threads wrapping themselves around their hands again, and it felt so familiar. They were electric and beautiful. They encompassed the touch she wanted to feel from him since he arrived, but also the touch she tried to ignore. The coolness of his rings against his warm skin made her shudder.

"You see," he whispered, glancing down to their combined hands. "There has been a connection since we first met. Miriam knew what you were from the start. You were never just a prophet. You are the False Prophet."

She rubbed at her eye with the back of one of her palms, trying to gain a sense of normality in the words he was saying. "You ..." She shook her head. "You think I'm some —"

"Yes," he replied, urgent. His hot breath fanned her cheeks and caused them to flush. "The ceremony will connect our lifelines together and help to rebuild."

Coraline's lips could barely move. Her mouth was dry as his thumb continued to caress her skin. Just his touch made her insides melt all over again, and she tried to frantically keep up her hard exterior.

"And how would we do that?" She murmured, meeting his gaze. "How is the bond created?"

Michael face was serious as he replied, "The bond is made from intimate relations."

The melting was over then. The dreamy atmosphere was done. Coraline's face twisted as she slipped her hand from his large fingers. "Are you serious?" She scoffed. "You're asking me to fuck you so you can rebuild the world?"

He bared his teeth into a grin, "That's another way to put it."

"Venable would slit both of our throats," Coraline barked back. "She has a strict 'no unauthorized copulation' rule."

Michael chuckled darkly and stood up again. "No need for rules anymore, Coraline. Chaos has won." Blue burned into grey as he stared at her intensely, sliding that one red glove back on his hand. Coraline watched his fingers flex with parted lips. "Don't worry about Ms. Venable either. I am her superior."

Coraline hesitated for a long moment, and finally met his eyes again. The suggestive side of her brain wondered if his red gloves would be involved in the ceremony, while the other side knew that somehow this would blow up in her face. With a frown, she asked, "What do I get out of it?"

"I'll make you a deal then," he said, mouth quirking up into a sneer. "You go through with the bonding ceremony and I'll grant you immediate access to the Sanctuary."

"That's not what I want."

The reply came out so fast that it surprised her. Michael's brow furrowed and he leaned his head back.

"Do you ..." She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Do you have the power to contact spirits? Even if they're in Heaven?"

Michael's eyes narrowed, uncertainty glistening within them. "I think I can manage that. Why?"

Coraline stood then, walking forward so that she was just inches from him. Their chests were almost touching as she tilted her head to the side. The scent of roses surged through her nostrils as their electric threads tugged her closer to him. Coraline was very much aware of his stare roaming from her eyes all the way down to the collar on her dress, but she didn't question it or cower away.

"I want you to allow me to talk with my mother's spirit," she licked her bottom lip, "in any way possible. I don't care how you do it. But I'll only agree to this ... bonding ceremony bullshit after you do."

Michael laughed devilishly, "You act as if it's that hard."

Coraline's expression muddled as he took a step backward. With a heavy exhale, Michael closed his eyes for a short moment. Coraline furrowed her brow, wanting to ask what he was doing, but his name fell dead on her pink lips. Finally, Michael opened his eyes again. For a split second, Coraline thought they flashed to a black color, and it didn't scare her one bit.

"You have three minutes." Michael snapped his fingers then, and with a slight smirk, he walked out of the room. Coraline watched his cat-like stride with curiosity, turning to notice him wink at her before locking the door. She looked to her hands and wondered why he left here in there, all alone.

It was suddenly so cold. She didn't have a human furnace near her anymore. Coraline felt the heat of the fireplace on her back, but she missed just his ... presence, as much as she liked to deny it. Once he came back, she felt things resurface. Things she wanted to push deeper into the back of her mind.

Or maybe the red gloves were just getting to her.

Coraline felt a hard gust of wind hit her back. She looked up, but dared not to turn around, until she heard a voice rise from the darkness.

"Coraline?"

•••

A/N: THIS IS THE REAL MEAT OF THE FIC SISTERS 🤙🏼 WE STAN THE NEW UNHOLY TRINITY

Also I made this yesterday???? Idk why??????? Idk if I like it?????????? Wattpad ruined the quality????????????? I'm so much more used to making graphics for commercial work that I haven't manipped anything in SO LONG

Love this dom energy, laid ease!!!!!!!!!