Chapter 25: This… a Vampire? A Human? Half?

  ?

  "T-thank you, Evelyn, Selena." The words emerged in Lyra's familiar voice, though it carried new harmonics—deeper, richer, with an underlying resonance that seemed to vibrate through the air rather than merely travel through it.

  ?

  Even transformed into a cursed creature—a vampire—it seemed her Lady still retained her personality.

  ?

  Yet it offered no comfort to Evelyn, whose legs were slowly growing weak, muscles trembling with the primal urge to flee warring against the paralysis of terror.

  ?

  "Why are you thanking them, Sister?" Lyra's gracious words were rebuked with sharp disdain by Elara, who emerged from the shadows.

  ?

  The dark chestnut of her hair seemed to absorb the light around it, creating a void that framed her newly transformed face.

  ?

  She approached with a hand covering her nose and mouth, fingers splayed elegantly against her face.

  ?

  "Ah... No... no." Selena finally fell to the floor, her knees buckling with an audible crack against the hard marble. Her skirts billowed around her as she collapsed, the fabric settling with a soft rustle that seemed obscenely loud in the tense silence.

  ?

  Tears welled in her eyes, transforming the scene before her into a nightmarish blur of crimson eyes and pale faces, all fixing on her with predatory intent.

  ?

  She wanted to shout "Hel—" and look back toward the door, toward escape, but what she didn't expect was her mouth being covered by an ice-cold hand and her neck gripped from behind with inhuman strength.

  ?

  “They’re the ones who fled. And even though they brought some help, I bet their true intention wasn’t to help us,” Elara said coldly as she commanded the rest of maids.

  ?

  The maid who reached out—and the one who covered Selena’s mouth to stop her from shouting—began to tear the garlic from Selena’s necklace.

  ?

  The pungent bulb crumbled in her grip, its protective power useless against a vampire of her strength and newborn hunger.

  ?

  The rest of the maids then had their pale hands reached out, stripping away the garlic and searching their bodies for any hidden weapons.

  ?

  "So these are the maids who fled?" The words came from an unfamiliar voice, deep and resonant.

  ?

  Hearing the unfamiliar voice, both women flinched and turned toward its source, their movements jerky and desperate.

  ?

  Selena’s breath caught in her throat with an audible hitch, while even Evelyn—who had been stronger until now—finally broke down. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a whimper that threatened to become a scream.

  ?

  The supposed tall, towering vampire—, the one who had caused Selena and Evelyn to flee in the first place—was now speaking.

  ?

  He stood before them at the base of the grand staircase, his form silhouetted against the fractured light from the damaged stained glass. He now appeared slightly shorter than in their nightmarish memories, yet somehow more charismatic, more present, as if his very existence bent the air around him.

  ?

  His red-glinting eyes fixed on them with predatory intensity, pupils adjusting like a cat's as he studied their terrified expressions.

  ?

  Now, what should we do with them? Lucien pondered, observing the two maids with his head tilted slightly to one side.

  ?

  "M-my lady... p-please forgive us!" The words burst from Evelyn in a broken sob, her composure finally shattering like glass.

  ?

  Knowing full well how her fate was sealed—and the reason she had fled—Evelyn, with trembling hands that clutched desperately at the tattered remains of her uniform and tears streaming down her face in silvery tracks that caught the fractured light, pleaded and looked toward Lyra, who was still partially bathed in the filtered sunlight.

  ?

  "Elara..."

  ?

  As expected, Lyra, seeing their situation, spoke softly to her younger sister, who was staring at Selena—now frozen in shock, her complexion waxy and pale, lips slightly parted but unable to form words—and Evelyn, who was pleading for her life between hiccupping sobs.

  ?

  Hearing her elder sister’s voice, Elara understood their position; she herself might have done the same in their place, faced with a nightmare beyond human comprehension.

  ?

  But it was different—this was her house, her family, her responsibility!

  ?

  Betrayal against another house might be forgivable, but not against her own.

  ?

  "They are not entirely in the wrong. They just... wanted to survive," Lyra whispered.

  ?

  Hope flickered briefly across Evelyn's tear-streaked face as she caught the words.

  ?

  "Not to mention, they have been with us for a long time," Lyra continued, hoping to convince her younger sister, who remained silent, deep in thought.

  ?

  But unexpectedly, instead of speaking for herself, Lyra saw her sister lower her head slightly. The motion caused her dark chestnut hair to slide forward, briefly obscuring her face before she tucked it behind one ear with a graceful flick of her wrist.

  ?

  "The decision is yours, Master," she said softly, addressing the towering vampire himself.

  ?

  This left Lyra gaping, her mouth opening and closing like a fish stranded on shore, the shock momentarily overwhelming her composure.

  ?

  Lucien, who heard this from behind, was stunned at first. The stubborn girl finally admitted defeat, huh? he thought, but there was no joy or sadness.

  ?

  It was plain. From the start, the only reason he revived them and made promises was simple: curiosity. So, in the first place, he never wanted to be anyone’s master.

  ?

  Well, I’m not doing this to be respected, he added.

  ?

  As for the two maids, Lucien glanced at Evelyn, whose complexion had gone deathly pale with despair, the blood draining from her face until her skin resembled parchment stretched over bone.

  ?

  Her eyes, once bright with determination, now seemed hollow, reflecting nothing but resignation as she stood trembling in place, the slight sway of her body betraying her exhaustion.

  ?

  The truth was, reinforcements would never have been sent—or even notified—if these two maids hadn't reached the villagers.

  ?

  But what was done was done. There was no turning back. Lucien shook off these thoughts.

  ?

  Besides, he hadn't been able to control his body back then—the hunger had been overwhelming, primal, wiping away all vestiges of humanity in those first terrible moments of awakening.

  ?

  So who, or what, should he blame for the past?

  ?

  Back to topic, then, what should he do with them? Looking at them—aside from the smell of fear and a few minor injuries—they looked perfectly fine. Then an idea struck him...

  ?

  Every vampire he had turned so far had been at the brink of death before transformation—but what would happen if someone still alive and healthy was fed vampire blood?

  ?

  "You..." At this point, Lucien pointed at one of the vampire maids—her gaze complicated as she looked between Selena and Elara. She even hesitated; if the masters told them to devour these two... would she be able to do it?

  ?

  Yet it seemed her inner thoughts were being read, as Lucien’s voice carried an undercurrent of power that made her and several of the transformed servants flinch visibly, their heads lowering in submission.

  ?

  "Try to feed them your blood." The command fell into the silence like a stone into still water, creating ripples of shock that passed across every face in the room.

  ?

  "Th-this..." The maid he indicated was Agnes, the very one who had welcomed them and the villagers with such perfect composure.

  ?

  That was her inner thought. Despite scolding and mocking Selena and Evelyn back then, as their senior, how could she not understand their personalities and hearts?

  ?

  But that was just an act. Now...

  ?

  Now, appointed to perform this experimental task, she hesitated, her unnaturally bright eyes darting between Lucien and her original masters. A droplet of black fluid clung to her lower lip, glistening like oil in the fractured light.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  ?

  Then she focused toward her masters, Elara and Lyra, seeking guidance or perhaps permission, her shoulders hunched slightly as if expecting punishment for her uncertainty.

  ?

  Elara simply nodded at her, and this caused Agnes’s world to crumble. Her lips pressed together, her inner conflict apparent as she lowered her gaze. But with no choice left, she looked toward Selena.

  ?

  Sorry...

  ?

  "Ah!" The sound escaped Selena's lips like air from a punctured balloon, high and breathless with terror.

  ?

  Frozen in shock, Selena finally let out a gasp of surprise as Agnes approached.

  ?

  The maid who had been holding and covering Selena’s mouth was long gone, and the main door had long since closed.

  ?

  Selena scrabbled backward until her shoulders hit the wall with a soft thud, plaster dust sifting down to settle on her tangled hair.

  ?

  She screamed, the sound raw and primal, tearing at her already abused throat: "NO! DON'T—DON'T COME AT ME! P-please...! Si-ister A-agnes!" Her hands rose defensively, fingers splayed as if to ward off evil, the whites of her eyes visible all around the iris as panic consumed her.

  ?

  On the other hand, Evelyn, lost in despair, only watched Selena's struggle with a detached, almost clinical interest that belied her own terror.

  ?

  Her shoulders had slumped in defeat, the fight drained from her body leaving only an empty shell.

  ?

  When Agnes reached Selena and forcibly restrained her—Evelyn made no move to help.

  ?

  When Agnes bit into her own wrist, black blood welling from the wound in viscous drops that steamed slightly in the cool air, Evelyn merely swallowed hard, her throat working convulsively.

  ?

  And when Agnes forced Selena's mouth open—and made her gulp down the black blood that poured from the torn wrist, Evelyn's eyes—witnessing the act—showed no will to resist, only bitterness and regret.

  ?

  Ah… I should have just fled… Evelyn resigned, the thought settling in her mind like a stone dropping into dark water.

  ?

  From the moment the village head refused to let a Saint accompany them, her feelings had been restless—that sudden chill that had crawled up her spine when Branks had smiled too easily, the way his eyes had never quite matched his reassuring words.

  ?

  She should have trusted that instinct and run when her feet still had the strength to carry her, when the forest still offered shadows deep enough to hide in. Now her limbs felt leaden, anchored to the spot by exhaustion and the inevitable gravity of her fate.

  ?

  And now it was her turn. Looking at the guilty and conflicted face of her senior, Agnes—Evelyn managed a mocking smile. The expression felt foreign on her face, like a mask that didn't quite fit.

  ?

  "So this is why you let us in first? How cowardly of you." Her voice emerged steadier than she expected, each word precise and cutting.

  ?

  A strange calm had settled over her, the peculiar clarity that comes when all hope is lost. She noted with detached interest how her hands had stopped trembling, though her heart still hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

  ?

  Agnes, who had been hesitant before, now frowned at the impudent and unfamiliar expression on the Evelyn she once knew.

  ?

  Her eyebrows drew together sharply, creating fine lines between them that hadn't been there in life.

  ?

  A drop of black blood welled at the corner of her mouth, tracing a glistening path down her chin before falling to stain her pristine apron.

  ?

  But considering what she was about to do—forcing her to become a subject of experiment, a test case for this new unlife—how could anyone not be angry?

  ?

  …

  ?

  Thus the process began. Agnes's wrist, still dripping with viscous black blood that steamed faintly in the cool air, pressed against Evelyn's lips with inexorable force.

  ?

  Evelyn's instinct was to clamp her mouth shut, but Agnes's fingers dug painfully into the hinges of her jaw, forcing it open. The blood poured in, thick and surprisingly warm, coating her tongue with a taste so complex and alien that her mind couldn't process it—sweetness giving way to bitterness, then a burning sensation that spread from her mouth down her throat like liquid fire.

  ?

  As before, once both Evelyn and Selena gulped down Agnes's blood—the thick fluid seeming to move with a will of its own, sliding down their throats despite their attempts to resist—they fell silent.

  ?

  The room grew still, the only movement the occasional twitch of a transformed maid's finger or the ripple of sunlight through the filtered panes overhead.

  ?

  Selena frantically tried to vomit the blood out, her body convulsing as she bent double, fingers clawing at her own throat as if she could physically extract the contamination.

  ?

  Choking sounds emerged from her lips, but nothing came up—the black blood seemed to have disappeared into her system, absorbed completely.

  ?

  Meanwhile, Evelyn only stared quietly at the others, her expression unnervingly blank.

  ?

  No reaction? Lucien thought.

  ?

  It had already been more than five minutes—enough time for the other servants to have begun their transformations, their bodies twisting and contorting as the vampiric blood rewrote their humanity.

  ?

  But these two remained essentially unchanged, save for their silence and stillness.

  ?

  But perhaps because of his words, or perhaps because the blood had finally reached some crucial point in their systems, the calm state of the two maids suddenly broke as both widened their eyes simultaneously—not twitching like zombies in the throes of death and rebirth, but with their pupils transformed, contracting vertically before dilating wide, and their skin growing paler by the second, the flush of life draining away like water down a drain.

  ?

  That's it? Not only Lucien, but even the surrounding vampires were dumbfounded, exchanging glances of confusion and disappointment.

  ?

  They had expected screams, convulsions, the dramatic death throes that they themselves had experienced—not this quiet, almost anticlimactic transition.

  ?

  "Do... do you feel anything?" Agnes asked, her voice uncertain as she took a half-step back.

  ?

  "Feel? It's great? Perhaps?" Selena, who had been trembling in fear and frozen in anticipation of two fangs at her neck and the incoming pain of being drained dry, now looked simply confused.

  ?

  Her head tilted to one side, eyes blinking rapidly as if adjusting to new vision.

  ?

  Besides feeling as if she'd just had a great nap during a workday—her limbs pleasantly heavy yet somehow lighter than before, her mind clearer than it had been even before their flight through the forest—there was nothing extraordinary.

  ?

  No burning pain, no sense of dying and being reborn. Just a pleasant warmth spreading through her veins, a heightened awareness of every sound and scent in the room, and a strange new clarity of thought. Until—

  ?

  SWOOSH!

  ?

  Her hand suddenly shot up, moving before her conscious mind registered the threat.

  ?

  Huh? Selena's mind reeled as she realized her hand had already caught a silver knife thrown at her from across the room, the blade trapped between her thumb and forefinger mere inches from her face.

  ?

  She hadn't even seen it coming—had only felt a disturbance in the air, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that her body had responded to without conscious thought.

  ?

  "This..." Even Elara, watching this display of supernatural reflexes, narrowed her eyes, the crimson irises gleaming with sudden interest.

  ?

  "So a vamp—no, a Thrall—is fine with silver..." On the other hand, Lucien, who had been watching all of this—and who had thrown the silver knife with a casual flick of his wrist that belied its deadly precision—was quite stunned by this revelation.