Prologue

The throne room was quiet as he walked in, all the subjects bowing their heads in both fear and respect. 

Not even a single sound was heard, only the sounds of his boots, as they marched against the concrete floor. 

The aura could be felt - that deadly aura. And that was, perhaps, one of things that brought him so much respect and fear from people.

His hands were crossed behind his back as he walked in and sat on his high throne. But the subjects dare not lift their heads, not until he permits them to. 

"Long live the King" they chorused as soon as they noticed him sitting. 

There was a long silence, as he rested his chin and touched his lower lip with his thumb. 

There was not a single person in the hall, that he was older than. He was just 28, yet gained so much respect. 

"You may rise" he finally gave the command and they lifted their heads, in relief. 

He didn't stare at any of them, but they knew what was next. 

Shortly, he was brought in - the injured guard. 

He limped painfully, his hand over his hurting belly, until he got closer to the throne and knelt in front of the young King. 

"Long live my King" he did the normal routine, his head bowed.

But one could tell he was in pains - and not just pains, but fear as well.

"I'm sorry, My King. But we lost her. We tried all we could to capture her, but she used her powers on one of my men, turning him against us. And in the end, everyone of them died. I'm the only survivor" he explained with hard gulps. 

He was as scared as a man close to death could feel. 

The subjects had so many thoughts running through their minds, but they dare not murmur - not when they were in front of the King. 

King Caesar was silent for a long while.

"You're trying to say....you lost her?" he finally spoke up, his voice so calm, words so soft.

"Yes, my King. Forgive my incompetence". 

King Caesar stood up and walked gracefully to the table behind the throne. His steps were slow, but smart. 

"You went on a mission with 8 men - to capture a single lady. Yet, only one of you returned". He said lowly as he touched the weapons on the table. 

The guard was almost shivering.

For a long while, there was silence, suspense. 

But not until he spoke out. 

"You're worst than a failure". 

And with that, he took a dagger and turning swiftly, he threw it right at him, in such an incredible way, it landed straight into his chest. 

He groaned as blood oozed from his mouth. And in a split second, he was lying on the floor. Cold. 

And dead. 

Cold shivers ran through the veins of the subjects, as they whimpered in fear, praying vehemently they don't victim at all.

King Caesar, his hands crossed behind his back, walked back to his throne and took his seat. 

"Take more men" he said to the two guards in the room. 

"Go in search of the confessor. I want her found by all means.

"No matter what, make sure she doesn't die. I want her alive". He paused and took in q deep breath.

"I have so many plans in store for her". 

Silence.

"Yes, My King" the guards bowed and left.

*

*

Her name is Isabelle. And she's the last confessor - the last of her kind. 

Of course, they were more than that. But, not until her village was ambushed few days ago by the King's guards, and every one of her kind died. All the confessors were killed. 

The confessors - they were females with special powers of compulsion. They had the ability to turn a man into their slaves and do every single thing they desire. And it'd go on for as long as the confessor was alive. 

King Caesar was a victim of this. He was a slave to one of the confessors and worshipped her. All he could think of, day and night, was pleasing his mistress. 

The confessor was not all that nice, as she made him kill his parents. 

He had no control of himself and didn't know what he was doing. But finally, the spell was broken and he coming back to his senses, he realized all that he's done and lost. He realized how he'd been in bondage for years, and even killed his own parents. 

It broke him.

He mourned for months, trying to get over it, but couldn't. The confessors had fled and went into hiding, but unfortunately, their hideout was discovered - somehow- and they were ambushed.

Every one of them died, except her - Isabelle. 

She was the sister to the confessor who had enslaved the King and she was the only one lucky enough to escape. 

Although, her sister was thought to be dead, but her body was yet to be found.

Isabelle tried all she could to hide from the King, but it turned out impossible for her as the King hunted her tirelessly.

But what was the vengeful King's plans for her?

Was her sister really dead?

And would she remain the last of her kind forever?