Yeming: Blood Chronicle

The Nightmare

The window slammed open with a violent crash, and a freezing gust of wind swept into the room, carrying the lingering scent of rain. Darkness followed close behind, flooding every corner until the air itself felt thick enough to suffocate. On the cold stone floor, a young woman struggled beneath the crushing grip of a pair of pale hands. Blue veins stood out beneath the stranger’s skin, while the rest of his body had already dissolved into the shadows. Only two crimson eyes remained, quietly watching her as though they belonged to something that had never been human.

Claire fought with everything she had. Every breath came harder than the last, and every muscle in her body screamed beneath an invisible weight that refused to let her move. The harder she struggled, the tighter the grip became, until even drawing another breath felt impossible. Panic surged through her chest. “Please… let me go…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

A hand as cold as winter brushed gently through her hair.

“I’m sorry.”

Pain ripped through her neck.

She gasped, but no sound escaped her lips. Warm blood trickled down her skin, soaking into the collar of her shirt before falling onto the stone floor in slow, steady drops. With each passing second, the warmth left her body, draining away along with her strength. The world around her grew quieter, dimmer, until everything blurred into darkness. Just before consciousness slipped away, a faint fragrance drifted past her senses—not blood, but cedarwood carrying the fresh scent of rain.

Claire Ashford jolted awake.

Her lungs burned as she struggled for air, cold sweat clinging to her skin while her heartbeat thundered uncontrollably inside her chest. She remained frozen for several seconds before instinctively reaching for her neck. Smooth skin greeted her fingertips. There was no wound, no blood, only the lingering ache that still felt horrifyingly real.

Three months had passed.

Yet the nightmare had never failed to find its way back.

The curtains remained tightly drawn, shutting out the morning light. Ancient leather-bound books were scattered across the room, their worn covers engraved with symbols no ordinary person should have been able to understand. The first time Claire had opened one of them, the strange characters should have meant nothing to her. Instead, they had unfolded effortlessly in her mind, as though someone had buried the language deep within her memories long before she was born.

Across the room stood a man in a tailored black suit. His posture was impeccable, his expression calm to the point of indifference, as if he had witnessed scenes like this countless times before.

“The one who turned you into a vampire cannot give you your old life back,” he said evenly. “Before leaving, however, that person entrusted me with this.”

He pushed a heavy suitcase across the table.

“Consider it compensation.”

A bitter smile crossed Claire’s face.

“Compensation?” she repeated softly. “Do you really think money can erase what happened?”

The man remained silent.

“I don’t want compensation.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I want to know who did this.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then tell me why.” Her voice was steadier this time. “Why me?”

For the first time, the man hesitated. After a long silence, he reached into his coat and placed a black envelope sealed with crimson wax on the table.

“Go to Yeming Academy.”

Claire’s gaze settled on the unfamiliar seal.

“Someone there will answer the questions I cannot.”

That was the last time she ever saw him.

During the three months that followed, Claire rarely stepped outside her apartment. She shut herself away from the sun by day and immersed herself in ancient books by night, slowly piecing together the truth about the world she had been forced into. Vampires. The Wolf Clan. Witches. Countless supernatural races had lived alongside humanity for centuries, hidden beneath an unspoken balance that ordinary people would never notice. Among everything she had learned, one truth stood above all the rest.

A newly awakened vampire was never meant to survive alone.

The rhythmic grinding of steel against steel pulled Claire back to the present. She closed the ancient book on her lap and rested her head against the cool windowpane. Outside, the night stretched endlessly beyond the glass. The forest rolled past in an endless blur of black silhouettes, its towering trees disappearing one after another into the darkness. The carriage was unnaturally quiet. No conversations drifted through the aisle, no laughter broke the silence. Every passenger remained in their seat, calm and motionless, as though they were all waiting for the same unseen destination.

A soft thud broke the silence as the old book slipped from Claire’s lap and landed on the floor. She instinctively leaned down to retrieve it, but another hand reached it first.

“Is this yours?”

Claire looked up.

The young man standing before her appeared to be about her age. His Yeming Academy uniform was impeccably neat, and a few strands of black hair fell naturally across his forehead, softening an already gentle face. There was an easy smile lingering at the corner of his lips—warm enough to lower anyone’s guard, yet never intrusive. As he handed the book back, Claire caught the faint scent of damp grass and fresh leaves after the rain. It lingered for only a heartbeat before disappearing.

“Thank you.”

She accepted the book, her fingers brushing briefly against his.

His eyes fell to the worn leather cover. “That’s a rare edition.”

“You’ve seen it before?”

“A few times.” His smile widened ever so slightly. “Most people wouldn’t even recognize those inscriptions, let alone carry a copy around.”

Claire lowered her gaze to the cover without answering.

The young man studied her for another moment, his expression thoughtful rather than suspicious. Tilting his head slightly, he said, “Your aura… feels unusual.”

Claire’s grip around the book tightened almost imperceptibly.

From the moment she boarded this train, she had reminded herself to trust no one. Everyone traveling to Yeming Academy belonged to the supernatural world, yet appearances meant very little. A stranger who smiled at you today could become the one hunting you tomorrow. She knew nothing about the young man before her—not his race, not his intentions, not whether he was someone to fear.

Perhaps he sensed the caution in her eyes.

A faint chuckle escaped him before he raised both hands in surrender.

“Sorry. That was a little rude of me.”

The tension eased, if only slightly.

“I’m Julian Everhart.”

Claire hesitated for the briefest moment before replying.

“…Claire Ashford.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Claire.”

He returned to his seat without pressing the conversation any further. Resting his chin on one hand, Julian turned his attention back to the passing forest beyond the window. The quiet smile never completely left his face.

Claire reopened her book, though she found herself reading the same page without taking in a single word. Strangely enough, the uneasiness that had followed her since boarding the train had faded ever so slightly. Perhaps it was simply because, after months of isolation, someone had spoken to her without fear, pity, or curiosity.

The carriage door slid open.

Two men dressed in black stepped inside.

The moment they crossed the threshold, Claire’s body went rigid.

A scent spread quietly through the carriage.

Wild.

Untamed.

It carried the unmistakable presence of a predator.

Her pulse lurched.

Something deep within her blood answered instinctively, stirring with a hunger and wariness she could neither control nor understand.

The Wolf Clan.

She lowered her eyes at once, forcing herself to remain still as her fingers tightened around the edge of the book. Her breathing stayed measured, but her heartbeat refused to obey.

The two men walked slowly down the aisle, their polished shoes striking the metal floor with steady, deliberate steps. Each footfall echoed through the silent carriage, drawing closer… and closer.

As they reached Claire’s row, one of them stopped.

He turned his head.

Golden eyes settled on her.

For a single heartbeat, time itself seemed to freeze.

A primal instinct screamed inside her.

Run.

Every nerve in her body tensed, yet she couldn’t move.

Beside her, Julian quietly lifted his gaze.

The gentle smile that had rested on his face until now slowly disappeared