Chapter 4 - How tragic

Circe could recognise what this place was. It was the resting place of a vampire. From the looks of it, it had to be one of the vampires from the prestigious noble bloodline. They each had special catacombs exclusive to them for hibernation or after death. 

The white coffin was made of the finest ivory and gold. The marble walls were polished to a mirror-like shine and at the end of the room was a carved shield on the wall, without a family crest. Placed all over the room were lanterns, filled with a mysterious blue flame that never burned out.

Circe could tell that the person in the coffin was a very important person but why wasn't there a family crest to identify him? 

She was about to get up on her feet when she glanced down only to be taken aback. She was wearing a long-sleeved, high-necked pink top paired with a matching asymmetrical skirt. The skirt had layers and it was longer at the back, revealing light grey boots underneath. A belt matching her boots cinched her waist, and she had on a long necklace with a pendant. Circe knew she would never wear something of this style even if they put a gun to her head. 

This person had obviously dressed up for something special but her dress had dirt on it like she had fallen. There were even bloodstains and her knees and palms were scraped. 

She had long figured out that this wasn't her body. She felt fragile like she could easily snap like a twig with the slightest touch. "Who are you?" she whispered to herself as she struggled to get up to her feet. 

If it were anyone else they would have been freaking out but for a witch well versed in black magic she had seen it all. She just wanted to know who brought her back and what business did they have with her. 

The thought that someone wanted her to return made her laugh softly. Wasn't she the most hated? Wasn't she the most diabolical evil being that needed to be eradicated? The person who ended her life was even her own blood so who would want her back? 

She put on a self deprecating smile as walked toward the slightly open coffin. Standing on her tiptoes she peeked into the partially opened coffin.

This vampire was dressed in an exquisite double-breasted coat that shimmered under the light. The coat was black, embroidered with gold threads along the edges of the lapel forming intricate patterns. It was tail was tailor fitted accentuating his shoulders and waist. Underneath he wore a silky fabric white cravat tied in an elaborate fashion around his neck. 

He was tall, at least six feet and his hair was black and glossy, falling over his forehead and covering his ears. It contrasted with his fair skin, which had a faint bluish tint. His face was partially masked by a thin veil of silk, also black, that covered his nose and mouth.

Circe wondered what he looked like underneath. His eyes were closed, but she could imagine they were piercing and captivating. His features were sharp and angular, but not harsh. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones, and a strong jawline. He looked like a nobleman or a prince.

Circe felt a strange feeling when that thought crossed her mind but she quickly dismissed it when she thought of the lack of a family crest on the wall or the coffin. Besides, the original vampires would have catacombs more elaborate than this. 

She closed the coffin and kicked away the scattered pieces of rocks that had broken off from the boulder that had been deliberately placed on top of the coffin to keep the owner of this body inside. 

While scattering away the rocks she caught a glimpse of a piece of pink paper pressed underneath. From the looks of it, it was a love letter. 

She bent down to pick it up and as soon as she touched it, her head exploded with a sharp pang. She saw flashes of images, sounds, and emotions. She saw herself, but not herself. Another Circe, a shy and timid girl who had a crush on Loren. She saw her standing in the shadows in college watching Loren intently as he chatted happily with his friends. It seemed she was invisible to him and everyone around her.

Circe saw how she suddenly received a message from him, asking her to meet him at the old chapel on the college grounds at sunset. She saw how she dressed up in her best dress smiling at the mirror with excitement. She ran to the chapel, excited and nervous but she found no one there, except for her half-sister and her friends. Loren was nowhere in sight. They laughed at her, mocked her, taunted her. They pushed her down a hill where she rolled down dirtying her clothes and scraping her knees, palms and elbows. They dragged her to an isolated catacomb disturbing this ancestor lying peacefully in his coffin. Then they threw her in the coffin and placed a boulder on top of it to stop her from escaping. The young lady had screamed, cried, and begged, but no one heard her. Circe saw how she died of fright, alone and helpless. She was frightened to death after being locked up in a coffin with a corpse. How tragic.

The love letter was what she had hand-written to Loren and as she lay in the coffin they read it while mocking her. Circe caressed the heartfelt words on the expensive paper and couldn't help but sympathise with her and this vampire who was minding his own business only to be involved in an innocent soul's death. 

She sighed softly before kicking the rest of the rocks out of the way. She walked over to the heavy door of the catacomb. 

Her palms pressed on the marble door and began to push the door with all her strength, but it did not budge. She pressed her palms on it and moved her feet her veins throbbing but it was pointless.

"You are a tough one, aren't you?" she said to herself as she cracked her knuckles as though getting ready to fight someone. She pushed it again her facial expression twisted in a funny way but nothing happened. 

Unwilling to give up she turned around and tried to use her back and move her feet to apply more force but it didn't even move. She could almost hear the door mocking her. Frustrated and desperate she walked a few feet away from the door and stretched her limbs with her tongue sticking out. "You want to play? Then let's play," she said as she ran towards the door and kicked it with her boot but she landed on the floor with a thud so loud she almost thought she broke her arm. 

"Ow ow ow ow... I am going to die... again. Only this time it will be death by starvation," she said her voice growing louder. She flailed her limbs around throwing a tantrum like a toddler at the grocery store. She even threw in a few curses, cursing whoever summoned her back. She liked the abyss. It was dark and gloomy but it was better than living in this world. After venting it all out she lay flat while trying to conserve her energy. 

Suddenly she heard a click. The door that had stubbornly refused to open suddenly moved and she excitedly sat up

She was breathing heavily with a stray strand of her hair on her forehead staring straight at the door. Just as she was about to get up someone suddenly entered and Circe's face sank her eyes turning cold. It