Rowan freaked out. Alista hid behind him. The circle of light from the torch kept shaking, which only meant one thing: Rowan's hands were trembling.
The torch flickered again. The beam blinked out for a second, and in that one moment of darkness, they heard a sound. When the light returned… the thing was gone.
Where did it go?
Their instincts screamed at them to run, but of course, they were too dumb to listen.
"What was that?" Alistair said, totally panicking.
"I don't know. Might've been some illusion from the torch flickering?" Rowan tried to convince both himself and Alistair.
"Why didn't you recharge the battery?!"
"It was full!"
The torch finally stopped blinking.
Then they heard it. A noise coming from one of the rooms down the corridor. Just a few steps ahead.
"I guess we have no option but to go," Alistair said, even though this whole mess was his plan.
Rowan tried to calm his breathing.
They pushed the door open. It wasn't even locked.
Inside was pitch-black, the kind of dark that eats torchlight. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with dusty cardboard boxes filled with random school junk. This whole basement was basically the school's forgotten storage floor.
Rowan swept the torch around. Alistair was practically glued to his back.
"I g–guess th–there's n–nothing here," Alistair stuttered.
"Yeah, let's head back. I told you, vampires aren't real."
Rowan turned with the torch—and froze.
A silhouette clung to the top corner of the wall, right above the door.
It dropped.
Rowan shoved Alistair aside just as it landed on him. The creature's nails were long and pointy, slicing across Rowan's cheekbone. Thanks to his reflexes, the cut wasn't deep… but it wasn't small either.
Rowan stumbled back, shocked. Alistair, who'd fallen near the door, saw a switchboard. Without thinking, he slammed the switch up.
The tube lights snapped on, flooding the room with harsh white.The creature uncurling from the floor wasn't some winged beast or horned demon.
It was a woman.
Pale skin. Deep black hair with a strange violet sheen. A long coat that looked older than the school itself. Boots that landed with slow, steady thuds.
But her eyes… silver, threaded with faint patterns that shimmered like they were alive.
She looked up fully, and the truth hit harder than her claws ever could.
"No way, you're—" Alistair stammered.
"A vampire," Rowan finished, voice tight but steady.
She didn't bother denying it.
"That's right. I'm a vampire. Ophelia Varrin. I've lived for centuries, and you two just interrupted my sleep."
Rowan couldn't decide if he was terrified or thrilled. Seeing an actual vampire wasn't something textbooks prepared him for.
But before he could process anything, she moved.
Her claws slashed toward him. Rowan barely dodged.
He grabbed the nearest thing—a dusty cleaning mop—and swung it like a bat. It smacked her across the head. Ophelia stumbled, blood trickling down her forehead as she hit the ground with a snarl.
Alistair reacted instantly, grabbing the biggest empty cardboard box he could find.
He dropped it over her like that was going to help.
It wasn't.
She tore through the box in one swipe.
"You two are seriously starting to annoy me."
She swung her hand again. Rowan braced himself—no escape this time. He shut his eyes.
But the attack never came.
Ophelia froze mid-air, staring at Alistair. He had thrown a tennis ball at her. Don't ask why. He probably didn't know either.
Her cold stare burned into him as she started walking toward him, slow and furious.
Alistair panicked, fell backward, and flailed his hands in pure fear. One of his fingers snagged a cobweb, and a tiny spider dropped onto Ophelia's hand.
She stopped.
Looked at the spider.
And screamed.
"NO—No no no get it off! I hate spiders! I hate ALL of them!"
She shook her hand violently, tears welling up like a toddler who lost their balloon.
Alistair blinked. Rowan blinked.
This was the same creature who had almost cut them into pieces moments ago.
A vampire.
Terrifying. Ancient. Elegant.
Crying because of a spider.
Alistair darted to Rowan's side, both of them frozen as they watched the vampire woman press her boot onto the twitching, six-armed creature.
"I thought I'd cleared every last spider out of this school," she muttered. "How did this one even get in? Must've slipped in this morning… I should've checked."
Alistair, who seconds ago looked like he might pass out from fear, suddenly straightened.
"I can't believe this. A vampire like you… scared of spiders?"
"I'm not scared," she snapped, glaring at him. "I just can't stand them. One of these things crawled onto my face while I was sleeping last month. And I like my sleep."
Rowan and Alistair exchanged a look, unsure what to make of that. She sighed and added, "And you two didn't help, shining that light directly into my eyes."
Rowan, who'd been as tense as Alistair a second ago, felt that fear crack just a little. Her voice wasn't what he expected. Too calm. Too… normal? He hated that it made his heartbeat stutter.
"So you had no intention to kill us or drink our blood like the other vampires? You were just mad because we ruined your dreams?" Rowan sighed.
"Well… I'll forgive you for that. And yeah, I'm not like the others who drink blood or eat flesh. I've met too many humans in my life. Some became my dinner, some became my problems, but a few actually became my friends. They taught this so-called monster a bit of humanity."
Alistair was too stunned to form a proper sentence. His brain, however, found a ridiculous path.
"So that means… you're basically a vegan vampire? That's wild."
Rowan slowly turned his head toward Alistair, staring straight into his soul like, "How can someone be this dumb and somehow logical at the same time?"
"Something like that," Ophelia said. "I don't drink human blood anymore—only animal blood. And honestly, I hate being a vampire. I wish I were human, too. But I know the only way to be human again. The only way is to defeat the 'king of vampires.' He's the one who rules everything, and the ones who devote themselves to him… they get powers stronger than mine."
"Wait… what do you mean by 'vampiric powers'? Like, cool magic stuff?" Alistair asked.
Ophelia nodded slightly. "Something like that. Mine is a bit strange. I can fix broken things. Objects, wounds… basically anything that's damaged."
Alistair's eyes lit up instantly. "That's actually sick. Can you show it?"
"Sure."
She stepped closer to Rowan and gently pressed her fingertip against the cut she gave him earlier.
Rowan felt her touch—surprisingly soft—, and the pain faded as if it had never been there. Alistair leaned in, staring.
The cut was gone.
Even the blood that had soaked into the wound and the little drops on the floor lifted off and vanished like time rewinding.
Rowan blinked. Alistair's jaw dropped.
"Your abilities… they're cool," Rowan said, still trying to process how casually she just broke reality.
"Thanks for that." Ophelia actually smiled, and there was the slightest blush on her pale cheeks.
Rowan suddenly froze. "Hold up… what time is it? I have to go to the fair with my aunt. It starts after sunset. And when we came in, the sky was red, so the sun's probably gone by now. The fair must've already started."
"Can I tag along?" Alistair asked way too fast.
Ophelia raised her hand like a kid asking for permission in class. "I know it's weird, but… can I come too?"
"Uh… yeah. Sure. It's dark outside anyway, so you're safe to walk around."
Alistair suddenly panicked. "Bro… the guard. We stole his key. He's definitely noticed by now. We gotta leave without getting caught."
Ophelia blinked, confused. "Why are you two scared of one human guard?"
Rowan sighed, already imagining the chaos. "Because if he catches us sneaking in the basement at night, he'll drag us to the principal. And the principal will drag us into a three-hour lecture about 'responsibility' and 'school property' and all that boring nonsense."
Alistair shuddered. "Yeah, I'd rather fight ten vampires than deal with that."
Ophelia nodded slowly, like she had just uncovered a terrible truth: adults with power are scarier than monsters.
***
Colorful lights stretched across the street like glowing spiderwebs. Stalls lined the entire road, each one blasting its own music, its own smell, its own chaos.
Kids ran around holding glowing sticks, aunties bargained, and a giant Ferris wheel spun slowly and brightly in the distance.
"Hey, you're back from your 'extra classes'?"
Maren's voice popped out of nowhere.
"Yeah, Aunt Maren. And… good news, we made it on time. Also, uh, these are my new friends. He's Alistair, and she's Ophelia."
Both of them waved like they were trying their best not to be awkward.
"Ohh, nice. Finally making friends." Maren sounded way too proud for someone who had no idea Rowan had just met a vampire in a storage room. "Come on, before this place gets even more crowded."
Ophelia leaned closer to Rowan and whispered, "I thought this 'fair' would be some adventure. But it's just… humans everywhere. I feel so out of place."
***
On top of the giant Gothic clock tower, someone stood on the very tip of his toes, body leaning back like gravity didn't apply to him.
He wore a light blue shirt and a brown tie, with a coat and pants in the same shade of deep purple. His hair was black and silky, barely moving even with the wind this high up. A pair of glasses sat perfectly on his face, but behind them were eyes no human should ever have: hunter-like, with radiant red irises and narrow, cat-shaped pupils.
He didn't move. He just stared down at the fair like he'd been waiting the whole evening for something… or someone.
Rowan kept walking through the fair, clueless, blending into the noisy crowd like nothing was wrong.
High above, the man didn't blink once. His red pupils tightened, locking onto Rowan as if the entire city was just background noise.
"So that's where you are… last heir of Ashborne."
The words slipped out of his mouth, too quiet for anyone to hear, carried away by the wind before they could touch the ground.
He stayed still, almost statuesque, but the air around him felt heavier… like the night itself knew something had just begun.
Rowan felt a cold breeze.
The feeling of being watched crawled up his spine. He looked up, toward the clock tower.
There was nothing there.