Kimi's POV
"Can I use the bathroom, please?" I pleaded, my voice a mix of urgency and desperation.
"No, little one, you can't," the masked man replied, his tone cold and dismissive, sending a shiver down my spine.
"It's an emergency!" I insisted, hoping to convey the seriousness of my predicament, the anxiety bubbling just beneath the surface.
After a moment, he relented. "Okay. Liam, escort her to the bathroom," he commanded, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, signaling for Liam to approach.
"Thank you," I whispered, my gratitude barely audible yet heartfelt.
As Liam moved closer, the masked man cupped my face gently but firmly in his hands. His gaze bore into mine, intense and unwavering. "Don't you dare try to escape," he said in a monotone voice, as if reciting a mantra he had rehearsed a thousand times before.
"I won't. I promise," I replied, the sincerity in my voice cutting through the fear that was gripping me.
He released my face, and I was led down the dimly lit hallway towards the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, like lead weights pulling me down. Once inside, I quickly locked the door behind me, the sound echoing in the small space—a brief moment of safety in a chaotic world.
In the solitude of the bathroom, I reached into my pocket and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper, its edges worn and frayed. I stared at the words printed there, recalling the instructions I had memorized: "Whenever you want to remember everything, say Hacer que los recuerdos olvidados resurjan." Yet, as I recited the phrase in my mind, nothing happened. I felt a cloud of confusion wrap around me, blocking any memories from breaking through.
Desperation clawed at my insides as I struggled to remember who I was, what had led me here. Then, my fingers brushed against the necklace I had been wearing. I clenched it tightly in my palm, its cool surface grounding me amidst the storm of emotions. The weight of my past pressed down on me, and despite my attempts to hold it together, I collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, tears streaming down my cheeks.
I repeated the words again—fervently, pleadingly—but still, nothing changed. Frustration surged through me as I fought to remember, to reclaim the pieces of my identity that felt so distant. In a moment of despair, I looked down at the necklace in my hand. As my gaze fell upon it, I noticed an engraving shimmering in the dim light: the name 'Charlotte.'
At that moment, a flood of memories surged through my mind, overwhelming and vivid. I wasn't just any ordinary person; I was a vampire. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me, bringing clarity but also pain. Images flashed before my eyes—Charlotte's departure, the heart-wrenching loss, and the horrifying act of violence I had committed. I had killed a baby and its mother. The weight of my actions bore down on me, and I quickly wiped away my tears, attempting to gather whatever strength I had left.
I couldn't stay here—trapped in a past I didn't fully comprehend. Gathering my resolve, I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest, and unlocked the bathroom door, ready to face whatever lay beyond and reclaim my life, no matter how dark the journey ahead might be.