The news hit Katelynn like a punch to the gut. Somehow, she knew this lead would finally take her to Lieselotte.
The guy had mentioned something about a coffee shop near her building. She had no idea why they were meeting there, but he seemed certain he knew where Lieselotte was.
Katelynn grabbed her plaid jacket, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and slipped on her boots before heading out.
When she got to the cafe, he wasn't there yet. She ordered a cappuccino, a black coffee, and two slices of lemon mousse cake.
She stared at the lemon zest sprinkled on top of the cake, absentmindedly picking at it. Every so often, she glanced at her watch.
It was 8 p.m.
He's late. Should've known he wouldn't show up on time. Katelynn rubbed her temples, feeling the fatigue creeping in. She could probably fall asleep right there.
Just then, the café door creaked open, and the sound of a cane tapping against the tile floor caught her attention.
"Evening, Katelynn."
The café was empty except for her, so the man walked right up without hesitation.
He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, straightened his suit jacket, and leaned his cane against the table.
"Mr. V," Katelynn greeted, looking up. His sharp gaze behind the glasses gave him an almost predatory intelligence. Despite the heavy perfume he'd used, there was still a faint smell of blood.
"You said you know where Lieselotte is. Take me there," Katelynn said, stabbing her fork into the lemon cake and taking a bite.
Mr. V ran his fingers over the edge of his coffee cup, but stopped short of taking a sip.
"I will… but there's a condition."
He clenched the cup so hard it cracked, spilling coffee across the table and dripping onto Katelynn's jeans.
Without reacting, Katelynn wiped the coffee off her pants. Something clicked in her mind, but she didn't show it. She kept eating the cake as if nothing had happened.
"And what's that?"
"Come with me," Mr. V said, picking up a shard of the broken cup and placing it next to her fork.
Katelynn glanced down at the shard and then met his eyes. They were empty, cold—no emotions at all.
She stood up. Mr. V grabbed his cane and rose to follow her. As he moved, his right leg barely touched the ground, his trousers hanging loosely around it.
Outside the café, Mr. V paused and sat on a bench, but Katelynn didn't sit next to him. She stayed standing, watching from a distance.
As soon as Katelynn turned her back, it was like the night itself grew darker, pulling her into its depths.
---
**Oria Corp**
"This is the person you're seeking?" A man sitting behind a desk spun his chair around and walked up to Mr. V, eyeing him with suspicion.
"She's Lieselotte's lover," Mr. V responded, his voice cold enough to chill the room.
"You wanted access to the company's files for this? And you kidnapped her?" George's face twisted in disbelief.
Without warning, Mr. V swung his cane and pressed it against George's neck.
"George, I suggest you shut your mouth unless you want to die."
George froze, his breath catching in his throat. He knew exactly who Mr. V was, and his eyes darted around nervously. Slowly, he stepped back, his hands sliding down the length of the cane.
"Fine, fine. I'll keep quiet."
Mr. V pulled the cane away, then walked over to Katelynn, who was slumped on the sofa, unconscious. He bent down, gently brushing a hand over her cheek, moving her head from side to side, studying her.
"George, hug her," Mr. V ordered, pointing to the display cabinet.
George watched as Mr. V removed a trophy from the shelf and twisted it. The cabinet rotated, revealing a hidden door behind it. An oil painting of a medieval woman hung above the entrance, adding to the room's eerie atmosphere.
---
Katelynn jolted awake to the sound of footsteps and the faint flicker of candlelight. Her surroundings were pitch-black, except for the dim glow from the candles. Two figures stood nearby, one with long, curly hair—Lieselotte. She would recognize that hair and body anywhere, even in the dark.
Katelynn's body ached, and she realized her hands were bound. Her legs were tied down, preventing any movement.
Gritting her teeth, she tried to pull free, calling Lieselotte's name through clenched teeth as tears streamed down her face.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her throat, and the cane hooked around the rope binding her legs, tightening it further.
"Katelynn, you know what I'm capable of," Mr. V's voice hissed in her ear, his teeth gleaming unnervingly in the dim light. The candle beside them flickered out, plunging the room into complete darkness.
Katelynn stayed still, her heart pounding in her chest. She remembered Lieselotte's black book.
Isn't the blood race have been destroyed? Is this familiar teeth, who is a person who has not cleaned up.
Watching Mr. V's dress, and his lame legs, maybe it was not dead at the time or escaped luckyly.
Why had he captured her? Was Lieselotte's disappearance tied to all of this? And was that really Lieselotte standing there? Why hadn't she responded to Katelynn's calls?
The questions buzzed in Katelynn's head, growing louder until everything went black again as she lost consciousness.
---
The next day, Katelynn was jolted awake by the thud of wood hitting the ground.
Her wrists and ankles were still tied. The dark room from before was actually a large, grimy warehouse. She lay on the cold floor, aching all over, and her hands and feet were raw and bleeding from the restraints.
Mr. V must have known she was awake. He walked over, his cane tapping in front of her face. Katelynn stared at the bottom of the cane, where an engraving of a parrot holding a letter "V" stood out.
Without a word, Mr. V motioned to a side door. Two men entered, lifting her up roughly. They untied her briefly, only to strap her back down—this time to a wooden frame that left her hanging upright, like some kind of sacrificial offering.
Katelynn's body felt limp, completely drained. She didn't have the energy to fight back. Even speaking seemed impossible. The air that whipped past her face felt like it could knock her over. Only one thought circled in her mind: Lieselotte. She had to see her. But deep down, a wave of pessimism flooded her heart—maybe this was it. Maybe she was going to die here, and all she could hope for was to see Lieselotte one last time before it happened.
She didn't want to lose everything without an explanation. She wasn't ready for a sudden, violent end. She just wanted to face everything—her emotions, her love—with some sort of peace. But how had things gotten so out of control?
Katelynn closed her eyes as the wooden frame started to move, rolling forward on what felt like small wheels. The pain in her body had reached a point where it barely registered anymore. Exhaustion had consumed her completely.
She faintly heard Mr. V giving orders to the two men pushing her, but she was too tired to even open her eyes. The only thing she could still feel was the overwhelming scent of blood filling the air.
"Wake up." Mr. V's cane smacked against her leg when the frame came to a stop.
The jolt of pain snapped her back, forcing her eyelids open.
They had arrived in a forest, dense with trees and bathed in an eerie, unnatural pink light. The place was deserted, the silence occasionally broken by the distant caw of crows. She could make out a statue in the distance, though it was hard to see clearly. It seemed to have fangs, like something out of a vampire's bucktooth.
At the center of the clearing stood a tall, ancient Roman column. The top was jagged, as if it had been broken off long ago, and the hollow center gave off the stench of rotting wood and meat.
Katelynn looked at Mr. V's back as he stood in front of her. He wasn't tall, but everything about him exuded control and precision. Even now, he had his hair slicked back perfectly and used the same perfume as yesterday.
Mr. V pulled a gold dagger from inside his vest, walked over to her, and without a word, sliced a small cut across her finger.
As the blood began to drip, Mr. V's lips curled back, revealing sharp, glinting teeth. He pressed his left hand over his right, which still held the dagger, then casually tossed the weapon to the ground.
"You two, take her blood—just seven drops. Then bandage her up," he instructed the two men.
He pulled out a small, ornate flask from his suit pocket and drank from it. His lips turned crimson, and the veins in his neck bulged, darkening into a deep, angry purple.
The two men produced a bow and arrow from seemingly nowhere, along with a glass vial. One of them untied the red ribbon around the vial and pressed it to Katelynn's bleeding finger, carefully counting the drops—seven in total—before tying a silk handkerchief around her wound. They tied the red ribbon around the vial and attached it to the bowstring.
Once the vial was secured, they handed the bow to Mr. V.
By now, his face had returned to its normal color. Without hesitation, he fired the arrow into the pink sky.
Five minutes passed in silence. Then, a voice came from behind Katelynn.
"Mr. V, what have you done to this poor girl?" A young woman with short hair approached, her presence marked by a soft, fruity scent.
The girl's eyes locked on Katelynn, shifting from calm curiosity to wide-eyed shock. She turned to Mr. V, then back to Katelynn, her expression full of questions she didn't voice.
She moved closer to Katelynn, her gaze full of concern. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned in close to whisper in Katelynn's ear.
"Katelynn, I'm Grace. Why are you here?" Her voice was gentle, but confusion and alarm danced in her eyes as she looked at Katelynn's face. Something in her expression said that this situation was far from what she expected. Katelynn tried to remember if she knew this girl—had they met before? But her memory felt strangely empty.
Grace turned away, her face unreadable. She walked toward Mr. V, brushing her fingers along his cheek as she leaned into his shoulder.
"What's your plan, V?" Grace asked, her voice soft but laced with tension. Her eyelashes fluttered, her body pressed casually against him, though it was clear she was holding something back.
Mr. V's body stiffened under her touch, but then his demeanor shifted. He smiled, a strange warmth suddenly creeping into his eyes, and he tucked a strand of Grace's hair behind her ear.
"Grace," he said, his voice low and smooth.
"She's our puppet now."