Alpha's Substitute Lover

I woke up with amnesia, finding myself lying in a coffin, while the world was undergoing unprecedented changes – humans were ruthlessly hunting supernatural beings, and I happened to be a vampire named Seraphina. I tried to recall my memories, but all I could retrieve was my identity as Seraphina, with nothing else. Awakening from an extensive dream, unfortunately, I couldn't share it as the dream vanished along with my unfortunate memories. Confined in a space, I could feel wooden boards on both sides. I reached forward, encountering another board, effortlessly pushing it open. Despite the subdued light causing discomfort, I closed my eyes. When I reopened them, approximately a minute had passed. Sitting up, unsurprisingly, I found myself inside a coffin in a damp basement. The coffin lid was thick with dust, and a sneeze ensued, making quite a mess. After struggling, I managed to climb out of the dusty coffin, feeling exhausted and physically weak. I couldn't determine the source of this weariness – whether it was my soul or body or both. I sensed a foul odor, specifically from my clothes. Eager to leave the basement, I wanted to go to an upper room to change into something clean. Yet, a more pressing matter overshadowed this – I still hadn't recollected what happened before falling asleep, a terrifying prospect of losing pre-sleep memories. I didn't recognize anyone apart from "Seraphina" – or more precisely, I didn't even recognize "Seraphina" herself. I don't know who my parents are, how I entered this slumber, and upon waking, the sight of the coffin and the basement is barely more familiar to me than my own name. I've only recognized them for a few minutes. I feel luckier than those people in third-rate movies who lose their memories – heaven knows how I still remember those films. Some of them even forget their own names. Well, despite not remembering my surname, at least, there's the designation "Serafina" representing me. While straightening the worn edges of the newly changed old clothes, thoughts of those third-rate movies came to mind, where people losing their memory get awakened by a brick or something, then have an epiphany: "Oh, I used to be like that, something happened, oh..." I thought it was worth a try. So, after scrutinizing my fair skin complemented by coffee-colored long hair and letting down the shirt cuffs for the third time, I walked to the wall, earnestly bumped it a few times. However, it didn't work – I knew it wouldn't; only a fool would believe it might. I was just trying. My strength was gradually recovering. After climbing up from the basement and passing through a tunnel, my strength improved bit by bit. My muscles twitched occasionally, but they were adapting to my movements, showing remarkable adaptability! At the end of the tunnel was a ladder covered in moss. I climbed up and opened something resembling a manhole cover, discovering it was a dried-up swimming pool with dirt, fallen leaves, and footprints on the bottom. The pool was half indoors, half outdoors, and it was daytime. I knew vampires were harmed by sunlight, but I felt cold, so I climbed towards the light, curious if a miracle might happen. As I sensed sunlight on some part of my body, I suddenly regretted it. I'm speculating on how I'll die, slowly burning up, instantly turning into ashes, or perhaps not even leaving ashes behind? But I've already come out, my entire body basking in the sunlight. The light is glaring, stinging my eyes, yet I'm happy inside for being able to feel the sunlight. This miracle has happened; I can truly stay in the sunlight! I don't understand the reason—perhaps I've forgotten, but I don't mind at all. I jumped out of the swimming pool, crossed the chaotic grassy field, and rushed into the charcoal-burned gate. It's apparent that this place has experienced a fire. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed graffiti all over the pool walls and the house walls—phrases like "demon," "vampire," "Satan," "die," and other unsightly statements. It's challenging to confirm if this unfortunate mansion is my home, but to find some non-smelly clothes, I still entered. The floor is covered in charred porcelain shards, Persian carpets halfway burnt with "Genesis," embroidered faces ruined on the velvet sofa, paintings on the walls destroyed, and the entire house covered in graffiti. Despite all this, I paid no attention. I went upstairs to the room, intending to search for surviving items. From an old iron chest, I pulled out a shirt stained with large oil patches, made do with wearing it, picked a pair of sports pants with only a few holes, stood up the broken half-mirror, tidied up the clothes. Fortunately, I didn't look too disheveled. I attribute most of this to the gem on my neck. It's a vibrant carnelian, delicate like capillary threads encapsulated in resin, adorned with beautiful and lively vessels. It looks exquisite, so I haven't taken it off. Moreover, it aids in recovering my lost memories, leaving it on proves beneficial. After the foolish act of bumping into the wall, I heard the faint sound of a gun being loaded. Despite its subtlety, my ears caught it sharply. I turned my head, not yet seeing the intruder, but a man berated me, "Vampire! Are you a vampire?!" I didn't know how to respond, so I remained silent, slowly turning my head. He, a man with a rugged beard, held up a shotgun against me. "There's silver in this gun; you better behave. Come over and let me make a cut on your hand, see if you're a vampire! Jack, come help, Jack!" He shouted towards the door, but his eyes stayed on me, gesturing for me to come over. "I'm not a vampire, sir!" I felt a bit thirsty, probably because I started talking, and I began to feel parched. What's most frightening is that I wanted to drink blood. However, I resisted, forcing myself not to look at his neck, expressing a fearful expression. "Sir, please believe me, I don't know anything!" At that moment, Jack entered— the one the man just called for. He gestured for Jack to come over and use a knife to cut my hand. "She won't heal herself!" Jack cut my hand cautiously, this young handsome guy gave me a few more glances. The man put down the gun. Jack retrieved the dagger. "Why kill vampires? Don't you know? Supernatural Creature Eradication Movement, don't you know? What's your name?" "Serafina, call me Serafina." He tied a neat knot with the gauze after wrapping my bloody wound and then smiled up at me. "I'm Jack Gordon. How did you end up in a vampire's house?" "I don't know... I forgot..." I told the truth; I really forgot. The old man slung the shotgun over his shoulder but still shouted anxiously, "Drag her outside, into the sunlight, Jack!" "Uncle! She's not a vampire!" "We need to be cautious! She's so pale!" The man straightforwardly walked over, using his rough hands to drag me outside. "Uncle, she might have been brought here by human traffickers; she doesn't remember anything. They invented a drug to make people lose their memory, and then they catch girls like you." "Girls like me?" "My nephew is complimenting your beauty!" By now, we had reached the outside of the house, bathed in sunlight. I showed no signs of any abnormalities, and Jack's uncle finally relaxed. "Human traffickers specifically target beautiful girls." "Why?" "We mean traffickers who deal with vampires. They capture virgins because they are more vulnerable and vampires like them!" Jack's uncle led us towards his Jeep. "What's your name? Full name. We need to find the police; your family must be frantic!" "Serafina Murray." I casually gave a name. "We don't have anyone named Murray in our town." Jack's uncle, getting into the driver's seat, turned and furrowed his brow at me. "Perhaps in other states, traffickers often catch people in Louisiana. Who knows..." I didn't hear what he said afterward. I only felt my throat tighten. I restrained myself from the desire for blood, but my brain was heating up. I was about to pounce and tear him to pieces! I smelled the enticing scent of blood, longing to sink my teeth into his neck. A bite, and the fragrance would fill the air. My throat tightened, and I involuntarily said, "I'm so thirsty." Jack's uncle had already started driving. After I uttered those words, he asked Jack to get me a bottle of water, but Jack didn't hear; he was asleep. "He must be too tired. He hasn't rested properly in three days. His fiancée, Carly, went missing, abducted by traffickers. Those bastards betray their own kind, colluding with vampires!" Jack's uncle gripped the steering wheel with one hand and leaned over to the passenger seat with the other, grabbing a bottle of water to hand to me. I told him I wanted to know what the Supernatural Creature Eradication Movement was. After taking the water, I showed no interest in it. Jack leaned beside me, his hand within reach. If I grasped his hand, I could taste the truly quenching essence for me. My mind was a chaotic mess. I dared not drink his blood. If I killed Jack, his uncle would kill me. I shifted away, putting some distance between Jack and me. "Eradicate all supernatural beings. Their existence threatens us, especially vampires. They're like the walking dead, should have died long ago..." I didn't hear anything constructive or helpful to me. However, an ingenious plan crossed my mind. In this deserted place, I was both hungry and thirsty, craving human blood! The impulse overwhelmed my reason. I was almost on fire with hatred, longing to pounce on Jack and drain every drop of his blood. I heard my ecstatic heartbeat, the thudding sound filling my ears. Trembling all over, I gripped the water bottle he had given me, making sure to place it in the rearview mirror's blind spot. I leaned forward in an ambiguous manner against Jack's uncle's shoulder, pretending discomfort. "Sir, can you pull over? I feel nauseous, and I'm getting motion sick." I gasped for breath, the intoxicating scent of his neck reaching my nose. Madness took over, overpowering reason. In the split second he hit the brakes, I, like a wild wolf, lunged for the prey's neck.