My eyes shot open, my head pounding with a painful migrain. i scanned the place I was in, a dark room,
The room is shrouded in perpetual twilight, with thick, velvet blackout curtains drawn tight over tall, arched windows. Candles flicker in wrought iron sconces, casting shadows that dance along the stone walls. The scent of old parchment, incense, and something faintly metallic lingers in the air.
A grand canopy bed stands as the centerpiece, draped in blood-red silk and black lace. Its carved wooden frame features gothic designs — thorns, roses entwined in intricate patterns. Across from the bed, a towering bookcase holds ancient tomes, spellbooks, and journals bound in leather, their pages yellowed with time.
A dark mahogany desk is cluttered with quills, sealed letters. Nearby, a tall mirror stands, but the glass is covered — not cracked or broken, just respectfully hidden.
As I glanced around, I froze, the heavy air, the scent of old magic and iron, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows would scream: you're not supposed to be here. My heart would pound as I took in the eerie beauty of the space — the silent mirror, the coffin-shaped outline near the floor.
"I should not be here," I murmured, getting off the bed, ignoring the throbbing migrain, my feet meeting the wood beneath.
my first thought was 'Avoid the coffin- for now' I know nothing about all of this so that's a boundary I wouldn't cross yet.
i didn't move though, I didn't know what would happen next so I listen carefully for any footsteps, any breathing, nothing, what came back to me was silence, and that scared me.
I walked causiosly towards the door to check if I could leave, but it was locked, I twisted the knob harder but it didn't budge.
i stepped back slowly, inhaling and exhaling slowly, calming myself down.
i was scared, I didn't know if someone or something was watching me. i walked back to the bed, sitting down slowly as I thought of possible senarios.
But, the moment I remembered my parents- their voices, warmth, safety,- it hit me like a punch to the gut.
Suddenly, the eerie beauty of the vampire's room mattered less to me. The rich fabrics, the glowing candles, the haunting silence — they all turned cold. I felt alone, trapped, and small, like a child lost in a nightmare with no way to call home. That ache of missing them twisting into fear: How are they feeling? How would I escape? Will I ever see them again? What if I can't get back?
And in that moment, I stopped being just curious or cautious — I became desperate. Desperate to survive. Desperate to escape. Desperate to hold on to the memory of them before this strange world erases who I am.
I have to leave this place as soon as possible.
I quickly stood up, ready to get myself out of this place, I rushed to the door, hands on the door and eyes in the search-for something that could get me out of the suffocating room.
I scratched my head in annoyance as I found nothing of any sort that could help me get out, then I paused, my hand still on my head as I realised I still had a few hair pins on my head.
i breath a sigh of relief as I took out a pin, quickly trying to unlock the door clumsily, and to my surprise, it worked, I was so happy, but I quickly masked it with a calm expression. I'm on a mission, I can't let revolve waver.
I took a stick of candle with me so if anything dangerous happened, I would be able to defend myself when necessary.
I had to be smart if I was going to leave this place whole and unharmed. If someone brought me here, they must be watching me, so I would pretend to stay calm, act curious, maybe even pretend to admire the room or not remember how I got here to but time, trick that devil, and escape.
i walked through hallway. It feels like stepping into a forgotten, ancient world — silent, sacred, and slightly suffocating.
The hallway stretches long and narrow, swallowed by shadows. Tall, arched ceilings loom above, supported by ribbed beams like the bones of a cathedral. Every footstep echoes faintly, but nothing replies — not even the wind.
Candles flicker from black iron sconces lining the corridor, casting trembling golden light that doesn't quite reach the corners. Their flames bend and dance as though disturbed by a presence you can't see. Occasionally, crimson velvet drapes hang like silent guardians, and behind them — perhaps hidden doors, perhaps watching eyes.
Dust floats lazily in the air, disturbed by nothing for years. Portraits of the long-dead — regal, fanged, and sorrowful — line the walls, their eyes always seeming to follow. The deeper you walk, the heavier the air becomes. It smells like old roses, and ancient secrets.
I froze as I saw caden a few steps in front of me. the setting sun casting a golden hew to his features — tall, silent, maybe with those unreadable eyes only he could have — my entire being froze. But then instinct would take over.
"where do you think you are going?" he asked, his eyes unreadable with his hands behind his back. "are you trying running away?"
Although my heart was pounding like a drum, but, I forced myself to meet his unreadable gaze. I straightened up, swallowed hard and spoke.
"I wasn't running. i was looking... for answers."
I saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but he was quick to mask it. But now he had an amused and curious expression.
"why did you bring me here, Caden? What do you want from me?" my tone wasn't aggressive or angered — just bold enough to demand the truth.
If he wanted to do something with me, he would have done it already. I still have power — even if it is only in my words.
The air between us hung heavy — not just with candle smoke, but with tension thick enough to choke on. I could feel Caden's presence before I even looked at him — like a storm crawling across the sky, slow and sure.
He stepped closer.
Boots silent on the stone floor. His figure, tall and deliberate, emerged from the shadows with the grace of something that didn't need to try. He stopped just close enough for me to hear the shift of his coat, the faint breath he didn't even need to take.
And then he spoke.
"You have no idea what kind of world you tried to run from," he said, voice smooth as silk over a blade."Humans... you burn bright. Fast. And foolishly.""But you — there's something different in you. You weren't meant to die tonight."
His eyes locked with mine, and I swear the air dropped ten degrees. There was hunger in his gaze — not just for blood, but for understanding. For control. For curiosity. He circled me slowly, like a lion debating whether to kill or keep.
"You could be useful.""You could be... something more.""So you'll live."
Silence swallowed his words, heavy and final. It wasn't mercy. It was a decision. A sentence passed like a king, not a savior.
I didn't move. Couldn't. Not even to breathe. The truth wrapped around my spine like ice:He wasn't done with me. I wasn't free. But I was alive — for now.
And sometimes, survival feels like the most dangerous deal of all.