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VAMPIRE MAID

🇳🇬Devine_Favor
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Chapter 1 - Vampire Maid

DESCRIPTION

When Samuel, a wealthy recluse, hires a mysterious young maid named Evelyn to care for his sprawling Victorian mansion, he thinks he's finally found the perfect help. But as strange occurrences plague the estate, Samuel begins to suspect that Evelyn is far from ordinary. With shadows that move on their own and whispers echoing through empty halls, Samuel is thrust into a nightmarish battle against an ancient evil lurking beneath the surface of his seemingly innocent hire.

Chapter 1: The New Arrival

The rain fell in heavy sheets, drenching the cobblestone path leading to the imposing Blackthorn Manor. Samuel sat by the grand fireplace in the parlor, the flames casting flickering shadows on the walls. He glanced at the clock on the mantle—7:45 PM. The new maid was late.

He had advertised the position discreetly, unwilling to attract too much attention. After all, the locals already whispered enough about the reclusive millionaire who rarely ventured beyond the gates of his estate. When Evelyn's application arrived, it had seemed too good to be true—no questions about salary, hours, or even the rumors surrounding Blackthorn Manor. She had simply written, "I am available immediately."

A knock echoed through the vast halls. Samuel's heart skipped a beat. He rose, adjusted his waistcoat, and made his way to the door.

Evelyn stood there, an umbrella shielding her from the storm. Her pale face was framed by jet-black hair, her piercing blue eyes gleaming unnaturally in the dim light. She was younger than Samuel had expected, perhaps in her early twenties. Her black dress clung to her figure, elegant yet practical, with a lace collar that gave her an old-world charm.

"Mr. Blackthorn?" she asked, her voice soft yet commanding.

"Yes, you must be Evelyn," Samuel replied, stepping aside to let her in.

She glided into the foyer, her movements unnervingly graceful. Samuel couldn't shake the feeling that she belonged here, as if the house itself had been waiting for her.

"I apologize for my tardiness," she said, closing the umbrella. "The storm delayed me."

Samuel nodded, though he noticed her clothes were bone dry despite the downpour. "No matter. Let me show you to your quarters."

As they ascended the grand staircase, Samuel explained her duties. "The manor is large, but I only require a few rooms to be maintained—my study, the dining hall, and the parlor. I'll also need you to prepare meals."

Evelyn listened intently, her eyes scanning the dimly lit corridors. "Of course, sir. I'll begin immediately."

Her room was a modest chamber in the west wing, furnished with a single bed, a wardrobe, and a small writing desk. "I hope this is satisfactory," Samuel said.

"It's perfect," Evelyn replied, her lips curving into a faint smile.

That night, Samuel lay awake in his grand bedroom, the storm raging outside. He couldn't shake the feeling that Evelyn's arrival had shifted something within the house. The air felt heavier, the shadows darker.

Around midnight, he was jolted awake by the sound of glass shattering. He grabbed a candlestick and ventured into the hall. The sound seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

When he arrived, he found Evelyn standing by the window, staring out into the storm. The shards of a broken wine glass lay at her feet.

"Is everything alright?" Samuel asked, his voice tinged with unease.

Evelyn turned slowly, her face illuminated by a flash of lightning. For a brief moment, her eyes seemed to glow red.

"Forgive me," she said, her voice steady. "I startled myself. I thought I saw someone outside."

Samuel peered into the darkness but saw nothing. "Perhaps it was just the wind," he suggested, though his instincts screamed otherwise.

Evelyn nodded and began cleaning up the mess with unnerving calmness. Samuel retreated to his room, but sleep eluded him.

Over the next few days, strange occurrences became routine. Samuel would find doors open that he was certain he had locked, hear footsteps echoing through empty halls, and feel a chilling presence watching him. Evelyn, however, remained unperturbed, going about her duties with meticulous precision.

One evening, Samuel decided to confront her. "Evelyn, have you noticed anything unusual in the house?"

She paused, her hands poised over a vase she was dusting. "Unusual, sir?"

"The doors, the footsteps, the... presence," he said, struggling to articulate his unease.

Evelyn's lips twitched into a small smile. "Old houses have their quirks, Mr. Blackthorn. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you."

Her dismissive tone only fueled his suspicion. Determined to uncover the truth, Samuel decided to keep a closer eye on her.

That night, he followed her as she moved through the house. She carried a silver tray with a covered dish, her footsteps silent on the creaking floorboards. She descended into the basement, a place Samuel rarely visited.

He waited a few moments before following, his heart pounding. The basement was dimly lit by a single bulb, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Samuel peeked around a corner and froze.

Evelyn stood before a makeshift altar, the tray placed on it. She lifted the lid to reveal a raw, bloody heart. Chanting softly in a language Samuel didn't recognize, she picked up the heart and bit into it, her eyes glowing crimson.

Samuel stumbled back, his breath caught in his throat. Evelyn turned sharply, her face smeared with blood.

"Mr. Blackthorn," she said, her voice low and menacing. "You shouldn't be here."

Samuel fled, his mind racing. He locked himself in his room, his hands trembling. He knew he couldn't stay in the house with her, but he also couldn't let her leave unchecked.

The next morning, Evelyn was back to her usual self, her demeanor calm and composed. She served breakfast as if nothing had happened. Samuel, however, could barely eat, his appetite soured by the memory of the night before.

He decided to contact a local historian who had written about Blackthorn Manor's dark past. The man revealed that the estate had once been owned by a reclusive nobleman who dabbled in the occult. His mistress, a woman of otherworldly beauty, was rumored to be a vampire.

"She disappeared after the nobleman's death," the historian said. "Some say she's still out there, preying on the living."

Samuel felt the blood drain from his face. Evelyn wasn't just a maid—she was something far older and far more dangerous.

That night, he armed himself with a crucifix and a vial of holy water, determined to confront her. When he entered the parlor, he found Evelyn waiting for him, her eyes glowing like twin embers.

"Did you think you could hide from me, Samuel?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice.

Samuel raised the crucifix, but Evelyn laughed, her fangs glinting in the firelight. "Do you think that will save you?"

She lunged at him, her speed inhuman. Samuel threw the holy water, and she screamed as it sizzled against her skin. He ran, the sound of her enraged shrieks echoing through the halls.

The chase ended in the grand foyer, where Samuel managed to open the front door. The first rays of dawn spilled into the house, and Evelyn recoiled, her skin blistering in the sunlight.

"You can't escape me," she hissed, retreating into the shadows.

Samuel fled, leaving Blackthorn Manor behind. But as he drove away, he couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't seen the last of Evelyn.

Far away, in the dark recesses of the manor, Evelyn smiled. She had all the time in the world.

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