Since childhood, Catherine had always been able to see those who had passed away. Before the age of six, she had even thought that everyone was like her. It was not until at her mother's funeral that the little girl named Amber pointed at her, screaming as if she had seen a ghost, "You are the child of the devil," that she realized that it was she herself who was abnormal.
Since then, Catherine had no name; "little monster" was what she was called.
She had attempted to make others understand that what she said was true, but after being ridiculed and sneered at time and time again, either with disdain or with fear, Catherine finally gave up. She was forced to go to church for worship, to confess that these terrifying hallucinations were due to her own sins, and to beg God for forgiveness.
She increasingly desired to escape from Windsor. Windsor, where since her mother's death, her father, as a live - in son - in - law, had no status, and where everyone was scheming to obtain, was bathed in the glory of the British royal family.
On the night after she announced that she would give up the inheritance rights of the Windsor guardian, Catherine sat in the attic, listening to the liveliness downstairs. The ghosts of her father and mother were by her side.
For an instant, Catherine felt that with their company, it might not be so bad to stay in the attic for a lifetime.
Her mother gently kissed her cheek, "Cathy, you should go. This place is not suitable for you. Leave Windsor, and you will find what you want."
But what was it that she truly desired?
"Do you want this, Cathy?" Mr. Langdon handed Catherine an exquisite vampire mask. A bright red robe draped over him, and his beautiful eyes seemed to hold the splendor and tenderness of the Milky Way.
Catherine took it and put it on her face. Around her were various joyous and eerie performances. This was a festival to commemorate San Marcus driving out the vampires. However, everyone was playing the role of those charming yet dangerous creatures.
This was the scene six years ago when they participated in the Festival of San Marcus in Volterra. The red robes on people's bodies fluttered with their movements. Seen from afar, it was like a red ocean with huge waves churning, and the noisy voices of the people were the driving force.
Catherine was almost dizzied by the patches of red until she saw two black figures slowly approaching her. Their movements were so graceful that every move was as captivating as a moving painting, making it impossible to look away.
They came closer. The man with black hair took off his mask. In his scarlet eyes, it seemed as if blood was flowing. His voice was as soft as if he was singing, "Leonardo, long time no see. How have you been?"
"I'm fine, thank you, Aro." Unlike Aro's relaxed and carefree manner, Langdon seemed a bit nervous. Aro blinked gently, and his gaze fell on Catherine. He seemed as happy as if he had discovered a rare treasure, "What a beautiful little girl. What's your name?"
"Catherine Windsor."
The silver - haired man, who had been wearing a mask all the time, looked at Catherine and slightly lowered his head. Under the mask, his rose - red eyes were resplendent, with that special and gorgeous red, like roses soaked in red wine. With just a slight narrowing of his eyes, he effortlessly stirred the hormones in the air.
The night wind blew rather inopportunely, and the still moonlight began to flow, gently brushing Catherine's face.
It's so cold. This person is cold even to his hair.
Catherine shivered and shrank behind Langdon. Unexpectedly, she bumped into something that blocked her. Catherine reached out to touch it. It seemed to be... a wall?
She turned around in bewilderment. In front of her was no longer the singing and dancing crowd. Vaguely, she could make out a wall, dark - brown and very ancient.
Catherine wondered if she was too close to the wall. Otherwise, why could she see the brick texture and tiny marks on it so clearly? There seemed to be some kind of light of an unknown color above her head illuminating this space, and everything was covered with a faint layer of red.
Catherine stretched out her hand with some effort and repeatedly confirmed that the faintly red thing on the wall was not blood. But the next second, she was a bit puzzled. Where did this faint red that wouldn't go away no matter how much she blinked come from?
Where was she? How long had she been here?
She spent some effort thinking about all this. At the same time, she put one hand on the wooden bed beside her, intending to slowly get up. But before she could sort out what had happened after she left the police station to buy coffee, a dull cracking sound made her decide to first figure out the abnormality happening to her.
She had just put her hand on it to gain support, but the wooden bed collapsed in her hand!
Catherine stared at all this in astonishment. With a slight exertion, the wooden fragments in her hand turned into powder.
This...
She swallowed subconsciously, her tongue licking her lips. After the shock came inexplicable restlessness. A strange burning sensation began to spread wantonly in her throat. Catherine felt thirsty and wanted to drink desperately...
Water or...
She stared wide - eyed in place. There was not a single desire for water in her mind or body. What she wanted was not water, but something else, something warmer, stickier, and sweeter. Uncontrollably, Catherine recalled the tragic death scenes when she was still a forensic doctor in the police station, those strong smells of blood.
She was as if poisoned, crazily longing to return to the place with blood. Ruby - like liquid gushing out of the body, warming her hands and moistening the thirst that was now almost tearing her apart.
The flame in her throat turned into a magnificent volcano, and the scalding magma rushed all the way to her head, burning her consciousness. Catherine roared in agony. Her hands scratched at the wall. She felt no pain, but saw the cold and hard wall showing hideous scratches under her slender and pale fingers.
Blood, craving, and immense strength.
Suddenly, Catherine stopped. She remembered the words of the lost soul to her. The one that killed him was a monster.
The burning sensation, the out - of - control thirst, and the remaining shreds of reason were engaged in a desperate tug - of - war at both ends of her nerves. Catherine felt that even thinking was starting to hurt. She only remembered that she seemed to have been hit by glass fragments and then had several stitches.
Then, someone broke in, killed Anna, and she herself was seriously injured.
Finally, what she remembered was... Langdon!
Without time to think too much, Catherine felt that if she didn't drink something soon, she would be burned to death by this burning sensation. She raised her arm, which was as smooth as the purest marble. She opened her mouth and bit down on her arm, sucking the boiling liquid in her blood vessels.
Thirsty to the point of having to drink her own blood, Catherine thought sadly that this way of committing suicide was rather novel.
However, when the cold liquid flowed into her mouth, Catherine was stunned - her blood was cold?
She let go of her arm and watched as the wound healed at a visible speed. She could even effortlessly see the broken blood vessels and torn muscle tissues. Bluish - black liquid slid down her skin, shining with an almost terrifying light.
Catherine froze. The taste and color, why, were so similar to the substance that she had spent almost a whole day in the laboratory but still couldn't analyze? Highly mutagenic and extremely toxic.
The wound had already healed as if new, leaving only a faint imprint. Catherine glanced at it and quickly closed her eyes as if her sight had been burned. Such a bite mark was almost the same as the wounds on the bodies of the previous victims in the serial murder case. Except for the size of the tooth mark, the key identifying points were identical:
Resembling humans, but with sharp teeth that humans could never have.
Catherine was in despair. She had no idea what had happened to her, but all the signs indicated that this was definitely not a good sign. She could almost be certain now that she must look like a monster, neither human nor ghost, a blood - sucking monster!
She remembered the Festival of San Marcus in Volterra, those nocturnal death creatures that were madly adored. Had she also become a vampire?
She knew very little about vampires. Her deep - rooted impression from the crime scenes before was that this was a kind of cruel and blood - thirsty terrifying creature. And at the thought that she might have become such a monster, an indescribable sense of rage spread from this despair and fear.
Catherine had never been so out of control before. It was as if the unbearable craving for blood had turned into the power to destroy everything around her.
At this time, an extremely faint voice rang in her ear, "You can't solve the problem this way."
"Who's there?!" Catherine shouted angrily. In her scarlet eyes, it seemed as if flames were leaping.
It was a human. No... it should be... a group.
Catherine subconsciously wanted to move away from them, for fear that she might not be able to resist pouncing on them and tearing them to pieces. However, soon she realized something was wrong because she had no craving for these people. Moreover, even more strangely, many images began to flash quickly before her eyes:
She saw these people following a beautiful human guide, passing through one after another of retro, gloomy yet magnificent halls and corridors.
Finally, they came to the last big door. What greeted them were both angels and devils. Their lives ended in one scream after another, shattered in the thick smell of blood.
The thirst that Catherine had barely suppressed surged up again, but was briefly extinguished the moment she saw the three high - ranking people in the last hall.
She had seen two of them. The black - haired man in the middle was called Aro, and the lazy silver - haired man beside him, with those ghostly red eyes.
A flaming rose blooming in red wine. Exactly the same as in her memory.
They... were vampires?!
The images in front of Catherine disappeared, and everything returned to normal. Outside the door made of iron bars were only a group of humans with extremely pale faces and blood - stained bodies. If it weren't for their clear eyes, Catherine would have almost thought they were zombies.
"You... are already dead?" She asked with some difficulty, and was startled by her own voice. When had her voice become so unreal? It was as beautiful as a melodious wind chime, but to Catherine, it was extremely eerie.
"You can see us?" The blond girl was slightly surprised, "I mean, no one has ever been able to see us."
"I've been like this since I was a child." Catherine shook her head irritably, and the burning sensation in her throat grew stronger.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"You're in Volterra, the fortress of the royal vampires. We thought you were going to die."
Catherine bit her lip hard. She thought he was right. She did feel as if she was being tortured to death, "How long have I been here?"
"Three days," the girl replied. "You look almost like those vampires now, but they can't see us."
"You..." Catherine swallowed a mouthful of venom, trying to moisten her throat, but it had the opposite effect. So she had to wait for a while before continuing, "Were you killed by those vampires?"
"Yes. We came here for a tour, but became their meal."
Came to Volterra for a tour. No wonder they were killed by the Volterra... Wait, Volterra?!
Suddenly, Catherine remembered the physical evidence found at the last crime scene, the scratched lock with "Volterra" written on it!
So that vampire was also from Volterra!
"Damn it!" Catherine suddenly stood up. She moved from this huge cell to the other end of the room without much effort. Moreover, she almost achieved it at the same time as she decided to go to the door.
Catherine stared blankly at the not - short distance behind her. The first thought that came to her mind was that perhaps she could try to become an athlete.
With a loud "clang", the black iron - barred door completely lost the hardness and restraint that metal should have and became highly resilient noodles in Catherine's hands.
She pulled the corner of her mouth stiffly. Maybe a weightlifter?
The ghosts whispered among themselves. Finally, the blond girl who had spoken at the beginning asked, "Where are you going?"
Catherine gave her a strange look, "Of course, to escape! Am I going to wait for them to throw me a welcome party?"
"Do you know the way to leave Volterra?"
This question was quite weighty...
Catherine turned to look at them somewhat awkwardly and touched her nose, "Can you help me escape?"
Before the blond girl could speak, faint footsteps came from the far spiral stone staircase, faintly mixed with rather cheerful laughter. Catherine's scalp tingled, and for a moment, she didn't know what to do.
At this time, the blond ghost took her hand, with a glint in her eyes, "Come with us."