Leonidas, watching powerlessly from the sidelines, experienced a rapid and painful shift in his emotions; he felt shock, fury, and ultimate frustration about how the entire desperate plan had played out. "We were so close," he muttered, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth in impotent rage.
Greyskin, who was still a distance away, moved with a hideous, evil grin fixed on his face. He had never been pushed to this extent. "Stupid boy, now I am going to slowly eat you alive," the troll roared. Greyskin started to crawl toward where John lay, using only its powerful arms to drag its immense body forward. The troll licked its lips in anticipation at the thought of eating the boy who had almost killed him.
Leonidas gritted his teeth, veins pulsing in his neck. He tried to move his body, lift his arms, or wiggle his feet, anything, but the venom held him down like thick iron chains. He screamed, directing his voice at John: "Move! Get up, boy!"
John heard a voice but couldn't quite make out the words; his mind was lost in a fog of pain and regret. "Damn, we really gonna die because of my carelessness? Why didn't I just finish the fu**ing troll? I am sorry, Grandpa, I probably deserve this. I... I thought I could make you proud." John was consumed by the crushing regret of not killing the troll when he had the chance.
As the troll crawled closer to John, it swiped the scattered bones that lay on the ground, sending the discarded remains flying everywhere, scattering like macabre confetti. Despite its injury, the troll's determination was unyielding. The scraping sound of its broken limb dragging on the ground caused a sickening sound that echoed through the cave, adding to the creature's already unsettling aura.
After several agonizing minutes of crawling, the troll Greyskin finally reached John, maneuvering its massive body directly above the boy and balancing itself on its hands.
Leonidas, witnessing everything, panicked. He was powerless; the only thing he could do was watch his grandson be consumed. He desperately screamed, trying to get the troll's attention: "Hey, you overgrown fuckface, leave the boy alone! Come eat me!"
The troll looked directly at John's bloody, bruised face. A thick line of drool could be seen dripping down from Greyskin's mouth, some of it landing on John's cheek. Greyskin heard Leonidas's insults and lifted its head to look at the weak vampire sitting a few distances away. The troll grinned and licked its lips. "Wait your turn, weak vampire. Greyskin going to eat boy face, then come and eat your face, starting with your tongue, hehehe."
As John lay there on the ground, his shallow breaths punctuated by painful groans, the crimson fluids on his face seeped into the crevices of his broken features. The area around his left eye was swollen shut, and blood oozing everywhere formed a small pool behind his head... a grim glimpse into the young boy's agony.
John sluggishly opened his right eye, his vision blurred, to see the huge troll, Greyskin, looking directly at him. Without fear, having already accepted his inevitable fate, John spoke in a low, defiant tone. "Do it," he dared the creature that hovered above his face.
Leonidas, watching powerlessly from the wall, felt a wide variety of mixed, conflicting emotions. He knew nothing he could say would distract the troll from eating John. Leonidas forced a light, rueful chuckle. To think that the great Leonidas is going to die from a fucking troll. I want to kiss my wife one more time and tell my daughter that I love her. I want to see my boys and tell them I am proud of them. Kiss my grandkids on the forehead and maybe tell John that... that I am sorry. He gave it his all and fought valiantly.
However, this time, pure, unpredictable luck was on John's side.
The lightning bolt that John had accidentally shot toward the ceiling above his head, a result of the troll Greyskin throwing the broken club in his face, was now about to save his life. High up on the cavern ceiling were countless stalactites; however, one specific, massive stalactite had been critically loosened by the force of John's uncontrolled attack.
The huge, heavy, sharp rock formation suddenly broke free and came down like an arrow, piercing the troll through the nape of its neck just as the troll Greyskin was lowering its head to take a final bite out of John's face.
The vampire lord was stunned, his stoic expression cracking into pure disbelief. In all the years he had been alive, he had never witnessed such an impossible occurrence. The troll fell dead next to John and, for a few seconds, breathed its last, ragged breath before its immense body went still.
The hybrid boy, though shocked and surprised, couldn't show the emotion on his broken face. He slowly turned his head to look at the massive, dead troll beside him. What the hell just happened?
John let out a deep, shuddering sigh of relief before closing his eyes to finally rest.
====
The next day, in the opulent quiet of the Crimson Castle library, Elena was busy dusting the high shelves. Haven arrived to assist her.
"Greetings, Elena; this one came to help clean the place," Haven said simply.
Elena carefully climbed down the tall wooden ladder and smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Haven; this library is far too big for me to clean alone, so I truly appreciate your assistance."
After working diligently for two hours, they both took a well-earned lunch break. Haven, however, excused herself briefly, saying she had to leave for a moment but would return in a few minutes. Elena moved to the upper section of the library, settling into a comfortable chair and drinking warm blood out of a delicate teacup.
As she sipped the drink, she began to reminisce, her thoughts drifting back to her childhood. She remembered her mother, her gentle smile, her soft touch, and the delicious food she used to cook. Elena pictured herself standing barefoot on their farm, the cool sand soft between her toes, and giggling as she played with the farm animals.
The memory coalesced around a particularly warm moment in bed with her mother, Eve.
"Honey, Mother wants to give you a gift," Eve had said, her voice full of tenderness. Eve got up from the bed and went to the cupboard, retrieving a small, aged brown wooden box. She gave the small box to Elena to open.
Elena's eyes were wide with excitement. "Is this for me, Mama?"
Elena's mother smiled warmly. "Yes. When Mama went to buy groceries in town yesterday, Mama walked by a small store that sold beautiful necklaces. Mama then noticed a necklace that is perfect for her sweet baby." She then lightly poked Elena on the nose, causing the young child to give a lovely giggle.
The young little girl giggled and carefully opened the box to find a beautiful golden sunshine necklace. The pendant and the chain were made entirely of gold.
Eve reached out, gently touching the pendant. "The owner even said that this necklace is inspired by the sun as a symbol of love and warmth. One day, Elena, when you have your own child or if you meet someone special that you love with all of your heart, gift that person this necklace, and you will forever be connected, just like you and me," Eve said, looking into her daughter's beautiful eyes with profound motherly love.
In the present, Elena sat quietly, her fingers caressing the delicate sunshine necklace that hung by her neck. She didn't know why she had been daydreaming so intensely about the past; perhaps it was the last truly happy day of her life.
And then, it happened. The day her life changed forever.
On that fateful day, Elena was playing with her pet chicken named Dobby. She was happily chasing Dobby around their farmhouse. "I am going to get you, Dobby," she called out, her laughter light and airy. Dobby was an agile chicken, and just as Elena thought she was going to catch him, the chicken would quickly change direction, leaving the young girl chasing shadows.
Her mother, Eve, would watch with a lovely smile on her face. "Don't hurt yourself, Elena," Eve warned gently.
"No, Mama," Elena replied.
Elena was having fun chasing her pet chicken until a sharp, sudden sound pierced the air. An arrow struck Dobby clean through the body, killing the chicken instantly.
The little girl froze, unable to comprehend what had happened. Her eyes stretched wide, and tears began to force themselves out, stinging her eyes. Eve saw a group of men riding on horses coming quickly toward them.
"Elena, run!" Eve shouted desperately.
Elena was in shock, unable to process how someone could kill her pet. Eve quickly ran to her, grabbing her hand. "Come, Elena!" Eve picked Elena up and ran into the house. She quickly locked the doors when she heard a man's voice ringing with harsh authority.
"Eve Bennett, come out!"
Eve went to the small window, pulling the curtains aside. She saw the man, Dexter, standing outside. He was impeccably dressed despite the dirt of the farm: black trousers, black leather boots, and a simple white shirt layered with a simple grey vest.
"Dexter, what are you doing here?" Eve demanded, her voice tight with a fear she tried desperately to mask.
Dexter stood in the center of the dusty yard, flanked by two rough-looking men. He met Eve's gaze with a stare that was ice-cold and utterly unforgiving. "I told you there would be consequences if you didn't sell me the farm," he said, his tone flat and businesslike. "Now, you've forced my hand."
Eve turned and hurried to Elena, her hands trembling as she grasped her daughter's small shoulders. "Elena, I want you to go to your room and find a place to hide," she urged, her voice a desperate whisper. She looked deep into the girl's eyes, which were already brimming with fear. Eve fought back her own tears, knowing that if she broke now, Elena wouldn't survive. Mama loves you, honey.
"No, Mama," Elena pleaded, the tears finally breaking through.
"Stop crying, honey. The bad men are going to break into the house at any moment, so I need you to run upstairs and find a place to hide. You must not make a sound, no matter what happens." Eve pulled her daughter into a bone-crushing, desperate hug, inhaling the scent of the girl's hair, knowing in her heart this was likely the last time she would ever hold her. When she pulled back, her face was set in stone. "Now go."
Elena obeyed, her small feet thumping rhythmically as she scrambled up the stairs to find a hiding spot. Eve didn't watch her go; she dashed into the kitchen and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of a sharp knife. It felt small and pathetic against the threat outside, but it was all she had.
A heartbeat later, the front door disintegrated under the force of a heavy boot. The wood gave way with a sickening, splintering crash. "Knock, knock," Dexter said, stepping over the threshold with an evil, jagged grin. One of his lackeys followed him into the small home, while the other stayed behind with the horses.
Dexter's eyes scanned the room, landing on Eve as she stood defensively in the kitchen. When he noticed the knife clutched in her white-knuckled grip, he glanced at his companion, and both men began to chuckle. It was a low, mocking sound. "Eve, Eve... put down the knife before someone gets hurt."
While the confrontation was taking place below, a massive, ornate flying boat was soaring high over the farm. A woman of breathtaking beauty, with hair like spun silk and skin as pale as moonlight, leaned over the mahogany railing. Her predatory eyes zoomed in with unnatural precision, catching a horrific scene: a woman was staggering out of the front door of the house, her clothes soaked in crimson from multiple stab wounds across her chest.
The vampire woman licked her lips, her fangs pricking her lower lip. "Collin, do you think I should help the creature? I don't particularly like to meddle in the affairs of mortals."
Collin, a vampire knight clad in dark armor, looked down at the bleeding woman and felt a flicker of uncharacteristic pity. "It would not hurt to help her, My Lady."
The vampire woman smiled, her expression a mix of hunger and amusement. "You always did have a soft spot for the mortals. Fine, then. Let us go help the human woman."
====
Elena, huddled in the stifling darkness under the bed, felt as though the air itself had turned to lead. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the sound of her world collapsing continued unabated. The heavy, rhythmic thud of boots on the wooden stairs sent vibrations through the floorboards and into her very bones. Each creak was a countdown, growing louder and more deliberate as the intruder reached the landing.
The door to her room groaned open, casting a jagged, predatory sliver of light across the dusty floor. Through the gap beneath the bed frame, she saw the dirty black leather of his boots. Her heart hammered against her ribs with such violence she was certain the man could hear the frantic rhythm. Please, let him leave. Please, let me be invisible.
"Come out, little girl; I won't hurt you," Dexter called out. His voice was smooth, coated in a false gentleness that made Elena's skin crawl.
She watched the boots move with a slow, agonizing confidence. He walked to the wardrobe and threw the doors open, the wood cracking against the wall with a sound like a gunshot. Finding nothing, he turned back toward the center of the room. Elena bit down on her hand, the metallic taste of her own skin filling her mouth as she fought to stifle her jagged, terrified sobs.
Then, the boots turned. They walked directly toward the bed and stopped. Oh no, she thought, a wave of cold, numbing despair washing over her.
The man knelt, the floorboards screaming under his weight. He lifted the edge of the bedding, and his eyes locked onto Elena's. She was pressed so hard against the back wall she felt the rough wood scratching her spine.
"There you are," he said, his face twisting into a wide, evil grin.
Downstairs, the yard had already become a theater of gore. As Eve had tried to flee, her screams had been raw and hysterical, echoing off the farmhouse walls until they were shredded by panic. She was crying uncontrollably, her face a mask of salt and dirt as she looked back toward the house where her daughter was trapped.
One of Dexter's men tackled her from behind, the impact slamming them both into the dry earth. Eve struggled with the last of her strength, her nails clawing at the dirt, but the man held her fast, pinning her down like a broken bird. She let out a final, piercing cry for help for a daughter she could no longer reach.
She looked up through a blur of tears and saw three figures standing before them, appearing as if they had been birthed from the shadows. The beautiful vampire woman, Lady Anna Crimson, looked down at the scene. As her gaze fell upon the blooming crimson soaking through Eve's white dress, her regal composure fractured.
The air around them grew unnaturally cold, turning the breath to mist. Anna's eyes began to glow with a fierce, incandescent red light. Then, the change began. Thick, ink-black veins surfaced abruptly beneath her pale, porcelain skin. They branched out from the corners of her eyes like dark, necrotic lightning, tracing jagged paths across her high cheekbones and down toward her jaw. They pulsed with a slow, rhythmic thrum of power, standing in stark, terrifying contrast to her ethereal beauty.
"Let the woman go," Anna commanded. Her voice was no longer human: it was a cold, absolute vibration that seemed to command the earth itself.
The man didn't hesitate out of respect; he hesitated out of a fatal, arrogant stupidity. He stood up, puffing out his chest with a defiant snarl. "Who the fuck are you?"
This was the man's first and last mistake. Before the mortal could even process the movement, the world shifted. The vampire knight, Collin, materialized before him like a ghost of steel and shadow. Without a single word, Collin reached out and clamped his hand over the man's lower jaw, his nails, sharp as razors, digging deep into the bone and muscle.
With a sickening, wet tear, he ripped the man's lower jaw clean off his face.
"Mind your manners, mortal, this is Lady Anna Crimson," Collin hissed.
Blood gushed in a hot, rhythmic spray, painting the dry ground as the man dropped to his knees. He writhed in the dirt, trying to scream through a throat that could no longer form sounds, dying a swift and horrific death.
Anna looked down at Eve, whose life was flickering out like a guttering candle. Eve looked up at the vampire lady, her face still wet with the tears of a dying mother, her voice a ragged, wet whisper. "Please, My Lady, save my daughter; I beg of you."
Those were Eve's last words. The toll of the multiple stab wounds was too great, and she died right there in the yard, her final breath a prayer for the girl upstairs.
Anna gave the fallen woman a silent, solemn nod, the black veins on her face pulsing with a restrained, ancient fury. She turned her head slightly toward the stables where the last man waited.
"Collin," she said, her tone calm but carrying the sharp, final chill of an executioner's blade. "Deal with the man by the horses. No survivors."
The vampire knight inclined his head in a singular, stiff bow before he vanished into a sudden, violent blur. He left behind only a shimmering ripple in the heat of the afternoon: a ghost of a man where he had stood a heartbeat before.
Anna turned her gaze back toward the farmhouse. The scent of iron hung thick in the stagnant air of the yard, sharp, metallic, and undeniable. She moved, and the world became a smear of color. Within the space of a single breath, she stood inside the threshold. The old wooden floorboards were streaked with fresh, blooming crimson, and the air was heavy with the cloying, sweet rot of terror.
She closed her eyes, extending her spiritual sense: a low, rhythmic pulse of supernatural perception that filled every corner of the house. Two heartbeats thrummed upstairs. One was a frantic, fluttering thing, weak and paralyzed with fear. The other was steady, cold, and reeking of a casual, practiced cruelty.
Her eyes snapped open, glowing with a faint, predatory red. Some mortal men are truly foul creatures, but I am not here to judge, only to end.
With a single, effortless step, she manifested in the upper room.
The man, Dexter, was leaning over the trembling girl. He loomed over her not as a man, but as a scavenger, his intent a foul, oily weight that sought to tear away the girl's purity and leave her a hollowed-out shell. The sheer scale of the violation he was contemplating was enough to turn the very oxygen in the room into a poison. The sight ignited a cold, murderous calm within Anna. She watched him for a second, her black, branching veins pulsing with a slow, rhythmic thrum of power as they traced jagged paths across her porcelain skin. He did not notice the shadow behind him until the faintest, ice-cold tap touched his shoulder.
Dexter turned, his wide grin frozen in place.
He stayed that way, paralyzed by the sight of her. Anna stood inches away, her crimson eyes burning like twin coals in the dim light of the bedroom. She did not move, she did not breathe, she simply existed as a terrifying, beautiful monument of death. When she finally spoke, her voice was a whisper laced with an ancient, inescapable power.
"Look at me."
His gaze locked with hers, and her vampiric will surged forward: a silent, overwhelming storm that seized his mind and shredded his autonomy. Resistance died before it could even form in his primitive brain.
"You will go to the barn," she said. Her voice was calm, inexorable, and final. "You will take a rope... and you will hang yourself."
The compulsion rolled through his mind like a tidal wave, a command from a god that left no room for doubt. "Yes, my lady," he murmured, his eyes turning glassy and unfocused as his soul was snuffed out by her will. Pulling his trousers back up, he turned and walked out of the room. Every step was mechanical, absolute, and devoid of choice.
Anna released a breath she did not technically need to take. She turned toward the trembling girl, whose wide eyes were filled with a chaotic mix of confusion and bone-deep fear.
"It's all right now, sweetheart," Anna said softly. She crouched low to the floor, making herself appear smaller and less threatening. "You're safe. Come with me."
The girl hesitated for a long, agonizing second, then reached out and took the vampire's hand. Anna led her out of the bloodstained house and into the blinding brightness of the afternoon light. High above the trees, the metallic hull of the floating vessel shimmered in the sun like a mirage. Collin stood by the ramp, his form as motionless and imposing as stone.
As Anna and the girl ascended the ramp, he bowed his head slightly.
"Collin," Anna said, her tone low and deliberate. "A man tried to harm this child. I compelled him to hang himself... but I've changed my mind."
Her eyes blazed with a fierce, incandescent red glow, and a faint crackle of static electricity seemed to jump between the dark veins on her face. "Find him. Make sure his end is not merciful."
Collin's grin was sharp, white, and predatory. "As you command, my lady."
He vanished in a blur, his form dissolving into the shimmering daylight like a mirage torn apart by the heat.
====
[Back to the Present]
A single tear ran down Elena's face. The sad and painful memory of what happened to her mother stayed in her mind. Haven came back into the library and saw that the maid was upset right away.
"Elena, is something bothering you?" Haven asked. Her voice was steady and she watched Elena closely.
"No, this one is fine," Elena said. She quickly wiped the tears from her face.
The vampire maid reached up to touch the small sunshine necklace on her neck. Her fingers felt the gold charm. It was a sign of love and warmth. Right then, she thought of John. He was not forced to be with her lord in a literal way, but Lady Anna had insisted he go. She wanted her grandson to bond with his grandfather during the journey. She had pushed for them to travel together even though she knew that her husband hated John.
Knowing they were out there together made Elena's fear grow much bigger. The idea of John being stuck with a man who hated him, all because of Anna's wishes, felt like a heavy weight. Her past losses made her feel like something was bound to go wrong.