The morning air was cold, but the air inside Carlos Decker's basement was freezing. It was the day after he and Vivian had sat on the couch plotting the downfall of the Crimson family, and Decker was already moving his first pawn.
Accompanied by two of his most loyal henchmen, Decker walked through the subterranean corridor. The walls were weeping with moisture, and the only sound was the rhythmic thud of their boots on the damp stone. They passed several occupied cells, but Decker didn't glance at the other prisoners. His focus was solely on the heavy, reinforced door at the very end of the hall.
"Open the door," he ordered, his voice echoing in the narrow space.
"Yes, Master," the henchman replied, his keys jingling loudly as he worked the lock.
When the door finally groaned open, Decker stepped into a cell that smelled of rot and despair. On the floor lay a man in rags so torn they barely qualified as clothing. This was Jones. Sensing the presence of his captor, Jones slowly opened his eyes, flinching at the torchlight before forcing his gaunt, aching body to crawl into a sitting position.
"Lord Decker... please," Jones rasped, his throat dry and cracked. "I am begging you, release me. I'll do anything. I'll be your slave, your guard—anything you ask."
Decker looked down at him with a smug, sickeningly satisfied expression. He adjusted his fine coat, standing in stark contrast to the filth of the cell. "That is exactly what I like to hear, Jones. It shows you have the right spirit. On the contrary, I actually do have a mission for you. A very specific task."
Decker leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you complete this mission, I will release you and your daughter. You'll both be free to leave these lands. But... if you fail me, or if you try to run... she will die a very slow death. Do you hear me, Jones? Do you understand what is at stake?"
At the mention of his daughter, Jones's entire body stiffened. The desperation in his eyes turned into a haunting sort of focus. "I will not fail you... I swear it on her life. But Lord Decker... what could you possibly need from a man like me? What is the mission?"
Decker's lips pulled back into a grin, and he let out a short, dry chuckle. "It's simple, really. You must kill the grandchild of Leonidas Crimson."
The color drained from Jones's face until he looked like a ghost. His eyes stretched wide with disbelief and pure, unadulterated terror. "Lord Decker! You're asking for my suicide! They will hunt me until the end of the earth if I touch one of them! To kill a Crimson... that is a death sentence for me and everyone I know!"
"Is that a no, Jones?" Decker asked, his voice smooth and cold.
Jones ground his teeth together, the sound audible in the quiet cell. His fear of the Crimsons was battling with his love for his child. "How do I know... how do I know that my daughter is even alive?"
"I thought you might ask that," Decker replied. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, silver magic amulet. At the center was a small button. When Decker pressed it, the device emitted a faint, pulsing blue glow. "Let the girl speak," he commanded.
The amulet was a one-way communication device. A rough, muffled voice responded from the other end. "Yes, Master... girl, speak!"
There was a moment of static silence before a soft, trembling voice came through the amulet. It was young and high pitched. "Daddy? Daddy, please save me... I'm scared, Daddy!"
Tears immediately welled up and began dripping from Jones's sunken eyes. He lunged toward the amulet, his hands trembling. "Are you okay, honey? Daddy is coming to get you! Just be patient, Daddy is..."
Before Jones could finish his sentence, Decker's thumb clicked the button and the blue light vanished. The cell returned to its oppressive silence.
"Is that enough proof for you, Jones?" Decker asked, tucking the amulet back into his pocket.
Jones bowed his head, his shoulders shaking as he wiped his eyes with a dirty sleeve. "Yes," he whispered.
"Guard, come here!" Decker barked. One of the armored men stepped forward immediately. "Bring this man two pounds of steak. He needs to recover his strength if he's going to be of any use. Show him the photo of the target, and once he has finished his meal, provide him with an airboat and a map. He'll need the exact coordinates of the Endlessgreen Forest near the Crimson estate."
"Yes, my Lord," the guards replied in unison.
Decker turned back to Jones, looking at him as if he were a tool finally being sharpened for use. "I luckily overheard one of Leonidas's grandchildren mention that he and a vampire maid are going for a hike. You are to track them down. Kill the boy or both of them and your mission is complete. Once the deed is done, I will personally arrange transport to bring you and your daughter home. And... I'll throw in a handsome compensation for your troubles."
Jones looked up, a flicker of hope crossing his weary face. "Thank you, my Lord. You are truly merciful."
With a final, smug nod, Decker turned on his heel and left the dungeon, heading straight back to the comfort of his mansion to wait for the blood to spill.
====
Earlier that morning, one of the vampire maids had entered John's room to bring him his usual glass of blood. John sat at the edge of his bed and finished the drink in a few steady swallows. As he handed the empty glass back to her, he looked up.
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked.
The maid gave a respectful bow. "What is it, Young Master?"
John proceeded to ask her to bring him four blood bags from the storage wing, explaining that some of them needed to be the 450ml size for his training needs. She complied without question, returning shortly with the requested bags. Once he was alone, John reached into the magical storage ring Angeline had given him and pulled out three plastic water bottles. They were just standard bottles from a store back on Earth that his mother had stored away for him. He dumped out the remaining water and carefully funneled the dark red blood into the bottles, securing the plastic caps tightly. He tucked them back into the ring, thinking he had plenty for just himself and Elena.
Later that day, the sun sat high over the sprawling Crimson estate. John stood near the massive entrance gate, the white stone pillars rising high above him. The Crimson residence was an imposing feat of architecture, clean, grand, and built to show off wealth and power rather than gloom.
John shifted his weight, his brown and white sneakers crunching slightly on the fine gravel. He adjusted the hem of his light, creamy white loose hoodie, which felt soft and airy compared to the stiff training gear he usually wore. He checked the time again, his black sweatpants rustling as he paced in a small circle.
I wonder what is taking her so long, John thought to himself, glancing back at the long path leading to the main house.
He was staring off toward the horizon when the air beside him suddenly shifted.
"Hey, John."
John jumped, his heart hammering against his ribs as he nearly tripped over his own feet. He clutched the fabric of his white hoodie, glaring at Thomas's calm, amused face. Thomas was dressed for a casual day, but his version of casual still looked ready for a skirmish. He wore a crisp white top tucked into fitted black pants, cinched by a long, sturdy brown belt. His forearms were protected by leather brown armguards, and he stood firmly in heavy brown boots.
"What the hell is wrong with you vampires?" John snapped, trying to slow his racing pulse.
Thomas tilted his head, his expression one of genuine confusion. "What do you mean, John?"
"I mean that you guys always appear out of nowhere!" John countered, his voice rising slightly in frustration. "Can't you walk up to me like a normal person? Make some noise, hit a rock, anything."
"But I am not normal, John. I am a vampire," Thomas said, as if explaining a simple math problem. He leaned back, resting his hand near his long belt, looking John up and down.
John sighed, looking around the open courtyard. "But you know what I mean. Just... walk next time."
Thomas's eyes traveled over John's outfit, lingering on the modern hoodie and sneakers. He crossed his arms, the leather of his armguards creaking slightly. His curiosity was piqued by the fact that John was loitering so close to the exit. "So, who are you waiting for? And where exactly are you going dressed in those strange clothes?"
John tried to maintain a blank face. He didn't want Thomas sticking his nose into his business, especially since he was trying to avoid the usual Crimson oversight. "Nowhere. I am just chilling here. There is nothing wrong with just standing here, is there?"
His attempt at being casual was cut short as Elena finally appeared, walking with a quick, purposeful stride. She looked entirely different from her usual maid attire. She wore a loose fitting white blouse with long sleeves, covered by a form fitting brown leather vest that was structured to accentuate her waist. Her dark green trousers were somewhat baggy but cuffed neatly at the ankles, disappearing into knee high brown leather boots with sturdy laces, built for rugged terrain. A wide leather belt cinched her waist, holding the whole practical ensemble together.
As she got closer, the sunlight caught the warm, rich brown of her hair, cut in a short, chin length bob. Her light, slightly tousled bangs fell gently above her eyebrows, framing her eyes, while the longer strands on the sides swept softly away from her face.
John felt his heart skip a beat. For a moment, the frustration with Thomas evaporated entirely. She looks beautiful, he thought to himself. He had seen her in her uniform every day, but seeing her like this, dressed for the world outside the castle walls, made her look vibrant and full of life.
"I am ready, Young Master," she called out, though her voice faltered slightly when she noticed Thomas standing there.
Thomas straightened up as Elena reached them. She came to a halt and gave a respectful, light bow. "Good day, Young Master Thomas."
John's stomach did a nervous flip. He watched Thomas step toward Elena, the power dynamic in the courtyard shifting instantly.
"So, where are you going with John, maid?" Thomas asked, his voice casual but carrying the weight of his bloodline.
Elena glanced toward John. She saw his wide eyes and his nervous facial expression, a silent plea for her to stay quiet. But she was a maid of the house, and she held no power to withhold information from Thomas Crimson. She lowered her gaze and spoke the truth.
"We are going hiking, Young Master Thomas. Young Master John said that he wants to do something fun for a change, instead of training all the time."
"Oh so that is how it is" Thomas said while turning his head to look at John "Then I would like to accompany the two of you, there is no problem is there John". John couldn't help but curse his nephew in his mind and he gave Thomas a wryly smile "Of course you can come along Thomas". Elena said nothing but she sensed that John did not want Thomas to come along but there is nothing that she could do.
They began their journey, leaving the white stone walls of the estate behind. They walked for two hours, reaching the hills leading to the Endlessgreen Forest. They looked down at the lush green trees and a small river below.
"Let's go rest there by the river," John said.
As they trekked down, John saw insects and plants that were not from Earth. "So, John, how does this forest look in comparison with your world's forest?" Thomas asked.
"Well, this is my first time walking in a forest," John replied. "In my world, we don't live near the forest and I don't get to see all these different kinds of insects or plants."
"What about you, Thomas, do you come here often?" John asked.
"No, I never get the chance to come and enjoy myself. I usually just train or do my schoolwork."
John felt a little sad for him. "Do you have any friends, Thomas?"
"Yes, I am not that lonely that I do not have any friends. I have two friends but we only see each other at school."
Elena followed behind them, her sturdy leather boots crunching on the dry leaves. She had said very little the whole trip, only making small talk when absolutely necessary. John wanted her to feel included, so he turned back to her.
"Elena, what about you? Do you come here often?"
Elena only shook her head at John's question. She offered a small, polite smile but kept her lips pressed together. John could tell she didn't feel comfortable talking freely or laughing while Thomas was nearby. To her, this wasn't just a hike; it was a shift where she was still a servant under the watchful eye of a Crimson.
The path eventually narrowed, forcing them into a single file line. Thomas took the lead, his brown armguards brushing against the strange, oversized ferns. John and Elena walked together at the back. Seeing Thomas distracted, John reached into his storage ring and pulled out one of the 500ml plastic bottles he had filled with blood that morning. He held it out toward Elena, but she politely declined, giving him a subtle wave of her hand.
"Hey Thomas, you want some?" John called out.
Thomas turned around and took the bottle. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he squeezed the clear, soft material. "What type of bottle is this, John?"
"It's plastic," John replied.
Thomas nodded and tried to pull the cap straight off. He jerked it upward and then tried to pry it with his nail, but it wouldn't budge. He began twisting it to the right, his face reddening slightly as he tightened the cap further and further. He grunted, his fingers slipping on the smooth plastic. "Is this some kind of puzzle?"
John smirked and stepped forward, reaching for the bottle. "Let me do it for you cuz, I gotchu."
Thomas handed it over, looking embarrassed. John gripped the cap and gave it a sharp twist to the left. The plastic seal cracked with a sharp snap. He handed the open bottle back to Thomas, who inspected the threads inside the cap with genuine curiosity before tilting his head back. He drank everything in a few long, thirsty gulps, letting out a satisfied breath as he finished.
"Thanks John, do you have more?" Thomas asked, handing the empty container back to him.
"Yes, but I think we should save some for later," John said, taking the plastic bottle and tucking it back into his storage ring. Thomas nodded, though his eyes lingered on the ring for a second too long.
Thomas then turned his gaze toward Elena, his expression shifting into something colder and more dominant. "Maid, let me drink some of your blood."
Elena flinched, her body going stiff as she looked at Thomas. The weight of his Crimson bloodline pressed down on her, and as a servant of the house, the request was more like a command. She bit her lip and slowly began to hold out her hand for him, her fingers trembling slightly.
John stepped in immediately, placing himself between Thomas and the girl. "Thomas, I have more bottles full of blood in the ring. Leave Elena alone."
Thomas looked at John for a few seconds, his natural blue eyes unreadable in the forest light. Then, he let out a short laugh and smiled. "Don't worry, cousin. I was just teasing you."
That didn't feel like teasing at all, John thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was looking at her like she was just a snack.
They continued walking for another hour, the forest floor becoming thick with oversized ferns and glowing purple moss. Suddenly, Elena came to a dead stop. Her ears twitched, and she scanned the dense treeline with an intensity John had never seen from her before. Being a high ranking vampire, her instincts were naturally sharper than both Thomas and John's.
"I think we must turn around, young masters," she whispered, her voice tight with alarm.
Thomas turned his head to look at her, his playful demeanor vanishing. "You sensed something, didn't you, maid?"
"Yes, young master Thomas."
"Is it even stronger than you, Elena?" John asked, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of the dagger he had hidden under his hoodie.
"Yes," Elena replied, her black eyes locked on a patch of darkness between two massive trees.
Thomas let out a light sigh, though he looked more annoyed than scared. "Maybe it is just some kind of high grade animal or a stray beast."
"Okay, then let's call it a day," John said, sensing the shift in the air. "Let's go home."
However, just as they turned to head back the way they came, a figure stepped out from behind a gnarled, ancient tree. The man looked like a nightmare; his clothes were tattered, stained with blood and dungeon grime, and his presence felt like a physical weight on the air. It was Jones.
Elena stood her ground, her body coiled like a spring. She could sense that this person was incredibly dangerous, far beyond a simple forest animal. Thomas narrowed his eyes, his blue gaze sharpening as he finally felt the raw, jagged bloodlust radiating from the man.
John, who could not sense the unseen pressure or the weight of a killer's intent, was the only one who didn't feel the crushing atmosphere. He looked at the ragged stranger in confusion. "Who are you?"
Jones didn't answer with words. Instead, his body began to distort. His hands twitched as his fingernails extended into yellowed, bone like claws, and a low, guttural growl vibrated in his chest. He looked at John, his expression twisted into an evil, toothy grin.
"Your death," Jones rasped.