"Chapter 3" Unrealistic Truth
1233 Words
"Father, it is no great matter. Time flies, and the days change," Daminion said, his voice dropping into a commanding, resonant bass. It was a voice built for authority, firm.
Orson, his father, leveled a piercing gaze at him. "Then you had best learn to turn back the clock, my son. We cannot be among humans."
He stepped closer, his expression hardening. "Look at you adding years to your life but gaining nothing. You show no ambition. How can you expect to lead this nation?"
Daminion smirked, though a shadow of a frown quickly followed.
"I have no desire to be a leader. I am content where I am. Besides, everyone knows we are not the true lineage. The real King is your brother."
Orson’s face flushed with a sudden, violent outrage. His temper, always brittle, seemed ready to snap. "What did you say?"
"I said what you heard," Daminion replied coolly. "I am not accountable for your ambitions or the expectations of our people. I will do as I please." He took a slow sip from his glass. "We do not harm the humans; we coexist. We are 'nice' to these dull-witted creatures, as you've commanded. So why can’t we enjoy ourselves among them?"
"You are being stubborn and insolent," Orson hissed, looking away.
"Father, stop playing this game of Kings and Princes. Stop deceiving the people and yourself." Daminion sensed the tide had turned. He leaned back, nursing his wine.
"How can you be so indifferent?" Orson clenched his jaw so hard the bone jumped. "What if I told you... that not all the Purebloods are dead?"
Daminion choked, the wine burning his throat. "What? What do you mean?" He searched his father’s face for a hint of a lie, but Orson’s eyes were terrifyingly sincere.
"This is the most impossible truth," Orson whispered. "You can feel her blood, Daminion. It flows in your veins, calling to its own. You’ve just never tried to listen."
"How?" Daminion asked, his voice now a mere breath.
"Close your eyes," Orson commanded. Daminion set his glass on the table and obeyed. "Find that cavernous space in your soul the place where the veins carrying the aroma of the Ancient Blood are connected."
Daminion searched the darkness of his mind. "I can’t find it," he muttered.
"You will."
Suddenly, the darkness broke. Daminion saw a girl standing in the center of Sylvan Road. She wore a small red dress, her back turned to him. She was slender, delicate, and possessed a magnetic, charismatic grace. The wind whipped her hair around her shoulders as she stood perfectly still.
"Hey..." Daminion reached out to grab her hand, but the vision shattered.
He was back in the room, breathing heavily, his skin crawling with goosebumps.
"Did you see her?" Orson asked.
"It was her. She... she felt so fragile," Daminion said, a predatory smirk slowly spreading across his face.
"She is alive, after all these centuries," Orson said, watching the newfound hunger ignite in his son’s eyes. "The world has changed, Daminion. You are my rebellious child, but now you must prove yourself. Our nation needs its King."
"You’re right, Father," Daminion agreed, his voice dark.
"Be careful," Orson warned, patting his shoulder. "She is a vestige the last of her kind. If we lose her trail, there won't be another. Keep her hidden. Once you find her, enclose her from the world. Let no one else lay eyes on her."
"Don't worry, Father," Daminion whispered, his mind already picturing the girl in the red dress. "She is mine."
He didn't just want her; he wanted to devour her. In his mind, her only purpose was already decided: she would be the vessel to secure the vampire lineage forever.
Elysia was buried in paperwork, determined to secure her internship. "It’s enough, Eli. You need to stop. We’re off the clock," her friend Emma sighed.
Elysia didn't look up from the patient's chart. "I know, but this is important. A little extra effort makes a big difference in patient care."
Emma made a face, her expression bordering on disgusted. "Elysia, you’re being so boring. Don’t you want to party? Just once?"
"We’re rookies, Emma. We need the experience."
"Exactly! We're rookies! If we mess up, it doesn't matter. We should be living our lives before time slips away."
Elysia finally looked up. "Time is already slipping, Emma. If you want to go, go. I have to work hard so I can give my grandfather the life he deserves."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Your grandfather has lived his life. Now it’s your turn."
"I have to go home," Elysia said firmly, packing her bag. "Grandpa might miss his doses if I'm not there."
As Elysia walked away, Emma’s face twisted into a sneer. She hated how Elysia’s morality made her feel about her own choices. "Ugh, she’s so cringe," Emma muttered, turning on her heel.
Elysia was finishing her final task when a man entered the room. She jumped, startled. "Mr. Franz! You scared me."
"My apologies, Elysia," he said softly. He was a polished gentleman, but there was an intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken not with romance, but with unease.
"I was wondering... if you might take the afternoon off? I’d like to take you somewhere nice."
Elysia gave a small, polite smile. "That’s very kind, thank you. But I have lectures all week. It’s impossible."
"My bad," he said, though his eyes didn't leave hers. "Another time, then."
"I am sorry, Mr. Franz," she added, feeling the need to fill the silence.
"Don't be sorry," he replied, his voice dropping an octave. "You can do anything you want with me. I would never mind."
Elysia froze. The comment was too intimate, too strange. "I... I don't understand."
"You will. Someday," he said, then turned and vanished from the room.
Elysia didn't wait. She grabbed her things and hurried out of the hospital, her heart hammering against her ribs. She made it to the bus stop, leaning against the sign to catch her breath, when a sleek, black Bentley Continental GT pulled up to the curb.
The tinted window rolled down to reveal Sky. He flashed a brilliant, charming smile. "Hey. Need a lift?"
"Sky? What are you doing here?"
"I’m here for you," he said.
Elysia felt a blush creep up her neck. "I didn't ask for a ride."
"I know," Sky said softly. "But I know what your heart wants."
"You’re living in a delusion," she joked, though she stepped toward the car.
"Maybe. But why spend the afternoon investigating the answer? Just get in."
She settled into the leather seat, the interior smelling of expensive sandalwood. For a moment, the world felt serene. They sat in a comfortable silence, the tension between them humming like the car’s engine. But the moment was shattered by the sharp, jarring ring of Sky’s phone.
He glanced at the screen. His expression shifted a flash of something dark and guarded instantly. He cut the call without a word.
Elysia watched him, her smile fading. "Who was that?"
Sky didn't look at her, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. The silence in the car was no longer serene; it was heavy with secrets.
- Writer
