It was dark—just as dark as I imagined hell would be—pitch black and void. It was the middle of the night, and from the oppressive feel of my surroundings, I realized I was in a forest, unsure how I had gotten there or how I would find my way out.
Then I heard growls.
They were loud, animalistic growls—almost demonic, like hellhounds howling in the dead of night. The next moment, the terrifying sounds began approaching me, strange footsteps growing closer. My body screamed with urgency.
Run!
I dashed forward, sprinting into the darkness. I didn't know where I was going—I only knew I had to escape these creatures. The faster I ran, the louder the sounds behind me became. Thorny vines caught my dress, tearing the thin fabric and leaving me with small cuts.
"Save me… please," I pleaded, though I didn't know who I was begging.
I ran blindly until my foot struck a tree stump, sending me crashing to the ground. I whimpered in pain, trying to get onto my feet. Suddenly, a clawed hand seized my ankle.
The monster had caught onto me.
"Mine!" I heard the inhuman creature's cold voice cut through the air, accompanied by a low growl. "You are mine, Jasmine."
My body trembled in fear.
"Ahhhh!"
I let out a bloodcurdling scream, attempting to kick away the iron-clad grip of whatever pinned me but it didn't budge, it only tightened its hold.
It began dragging me closer. First, I felt the sensation of its hot breath on my nape, then a pair of glowing crimson eyes suddenly lit up the dark expanse—terrifying eyes, like those belonging to Devils in myths.
"You cannot escape me, Jasmine," the creature whispered. "You belong to me." Its voice was not persuasive—it was possessive, monstrous, and hungry.
I felt the pressure on my neck increase and sensed a graze of something sharp against my skin—fangs, I thought—then the pressure deepened, as if it were ready to sink into me.
"No! No! No!" I screamed. And before it could take a bite from me, my head spun, and the scene dissolved into nothingness.
I shot upright in bed, panting unevenly, cold sweat soaking into my quilt.
"I-it is a d-dream," I whispered, still terror-stricken. It was one of my usual nightmares.
Same darkness. Same creature. Same pain.
Why do I always dream about that creature? What does it want from me?
"Why does it always want to claim me?" I asked, speaking into the void. The dreams always felt vivid and alive, as if my days were drawing closer to something—dangerous.
I looked out the window and it was still night. The moonlight glistened over the panes, accompanied by stars. They looked peaceful and serene, in contrast to my nightmares.
In the darkness, my hands searched for the wooden cross pendant Martha always left in my room. She said wearing it would chase away demons and evil spirits. Finding it atop my drawer, I quickly placed it around my neck.
Clutching the cross, I closed my eyes and prayed the creature would not return tonight.
Hours later, soft knocks on the door woke me. I fluttered my lids open, greeted by golden rays streaming in through my open window. The terror of the dream still weighed on me but was bearable.
Because my chamber sat high in the tower, sunlight poured through the window with blinding intensity.
The door opened, and I saw a middle-aged woman with golden-brown hair step in. She wore a morning smile. It was genuine and contagious and I couldn't resist smiling back.
It was Martha.
Her bun was perfectly tied, her apron sitting neatly on her waist. She placed the basket of fruits she had brought for me on the table, giving me a light kiss on the forehead as she did every morning.
"Morning, my lady. How was your night?" she asked enthusiastically.
"It was pleasant, Martha," I responded, removing the quilt from my body. Martha never stopped addressing me with honorifics, no matter how I had tried persuading her otherwise. She always believed I was a true princess or of noble blood, which seemed strange to me.
I refrained from telling her about my dream, knowing she would worry all day.
"Come, dear. I have drawn your bath. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for breakfast."
I nodded obediently, following her out of the room.
I had turned eighteen two weeks ago, but Martha would never stop treating me like a child. I told her I was old enough to prepare my own bath, but she simply shrugged and continued attending to me.
Could I really blame her? After being the only one caring for me all my life, she had grown accustomed to that role as my caregiver.
Living isolated from the rest of the kingdom in an abandoned tower was the price I paid for being the daughter of a maid who had an affair with the king.
Martha had told me why I had grown up away from the castle, and I would never forget.
I am Jasmine, the third princess of Alexandria, but rather than a princess, I am treated as invisible. I had always thought my life was worse than that of a mere girl, because even poor girls were allowed to live with their fellow humans.
I was the illegitimate daughter of the king—a forgotten princess.
The kingdom did not want a half-blood in the royal castle, and my father didn't want me either. So to erase my existence, I was sent to a place where eyes did not see and feet did not tread.
An old, abandoned tower, isolated from the rest of the kingdom, surrounded by tall, dense forests. No one ever came here except wild animals at midnight, searching for prey.
When I was brought here to die, no one offered to take me—except Martha. I had grown up knowing only her and never forgetting how amazing she was.
I followed Martha through dimly lit corridors, which lacked windows. The stone walls were cold and rough, carrying the scent of damp moss.
Our tower was old, older than most buildings in Alexandria, Martha once told me. Some parts had begun to crumble with age, but it was still sturdy enough to shelter us from the outside world.
We descended the spiral staircase that led to the lower floor, where the bathing chamber was.
Steam drifted through the slightly open door, carrying the faint scent of lavender. Martha had always loved adding herbs to my bath water. She claimed it calmed the mind and warded off bad energy.
"Everything is ready," she said proudly, pushing the door open.
Inside, a large copper tub sat near the center of the room, already filled with warm water.
"You spoil me too much," I said with a small, grateful smile.
"A princess deserves proper care," Martha replied firmly.
I sighed softly. "Martha…"
She only waved a dismissive hand before helping me undo the laces of my nightgown.
As I slipped into the warm water, the heat immediately relaxed my aching body. I hadn't realized how tense I still was from the nightmare.
I let out a quiet breath.
"You know," I murmured, almost absentmindedly, "sometimes I wonder what it would be like if someone from the kingdom actually came here."
Martha stilled.
I watched the water ripple softly around my hands.
"But I suppose that would never happen," I added with a faint smile.
"I wonder what they would look like—normal, or like me?" I didn't know what normal people looked like, except for the drawings in storybooks Martha read to me at night.
Martha said nothing for a moment, only passing the scrub and soap to me.
"Of course, they would look like you, my lady. You are normal, after all." She always told me this, but I wasn't certain.
After folding my clothes, she moved toward the door. "Take your time, my lady. Breakfast will be ready shortly."
"Thank you, Martha," I responded.
She smiled before leaving the chamber, quietly closing the door behind her.
When the door clicked shut, I leaned back in the water, letting the warmth soothe my skin.
My eyes drifted down to my thigh, then to my ankle.
I suddenly froze, realizing what I had just seen.
Faint red marks circled my skin, five thin lines, shaped like claws—like the claws of the creature in my dream.