07. Living Nightmare
1371 Words
The bright moonlight greeted Xiandra as she awoke, its glow reflecting off the glass of the large window. She blinked a few times, her newly awakened eyes adjusting to the light.
She felt the softness of the bed beneath her, along with the delicate, rosy fragrance that filled the entire room. The scent was familiar—so familiar that it brought a gentle smile to her lips.
‘Am I back in Citta Miasto?’
But the thought lasted only a moment. The smile on her face quickly faded as the memories of everything that had happened came rushing back— the victimized woman, the men who chased her, the forest, the cliffside, the waterfall and the door, the black smoke.
And the… monster!
She bolted upright.
Quickly, she examined her own body—there wasn’t a single scratch or wound in sight. Even her shoulder and leg, which she vividly remembered being struck by arrows, were completely unscathed.
Xiandra’s hand flew to her neck—the very spot where she could still feel the monster’s bite. Trembling, she turned to the nearby mirror and stared at her reflection.
No mark.
But something else caught her attention.
A necklace.
It hung around her neck, adorned with a green gemstone she had no recollection of acquiring. Just like the white dress she was now wearing—it wasn’t hers.
“At last, you’ve finally decided to wake up.”
A deep, commanding voice made her turn around.
Xiandra peeked at the stranger’s face. He stood in the shadowed part of the room, making it difficult for her to see him clearly.
His broad frame leaned casually against the closed door. He stood tall, clad entirely in black.
Then, he stepped forward, into the light.
And under the pale glow of the moon, Xiandra was met with his skin—pale as snow, starkly contrasting his dark attire.
She stared at the man before her, as if gazing upon a Pontius Pilate descending from the altar of power.
His thick lashes, a sharp nose sculpted like an aristocrat’s by a masterful artist, and lips so pale they seemed woven from the moon’s dim glow—all of it was captivating. Yet, with that allure came an unshakable sense of unease.
Xiandra’s heartbeat pounded even harder when their eyes met—deep green, piercing, as if they were diving into her very soul.
"Who is he?" she asked herself, locked in an unspoken battle of stares.
But something snapped her out of her thoughts.
The corner of his lips curled into a faint smirk.
And in the blink of an eye, he was at her bedside.
Xiandra gasped.
Her heart pounded as she watched his eyes slowly change color—from a peaceful green to a terrifying red.
Blood-red.
The same eyes she had seen in the forest!
Xiandra felt like her world was collapsing. Every emotion that had consumed her in the woods—fear, dread, trembling—came rushing back, sharper and more intense than before.
Her lips quivered. “I… it’s you…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet enough for him to hear.
She wanted it to end.
Why?
Why was she still alive?
She would rather disappear completely than remain in the presence of this creature.
She flinched and squeezed her eyes shut.
“W-where am I? Where am I?!” she burst out, her voice almost a scream.
The man closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. From a burning crimson, his gaze softened back into green.
“You are in my world,” he answered, his voice firm and unwavering.
He turned away and walked toward the large window, gazing at the moon as he spoke in a cold, detached voice.
"You have been lying unconscious in bed for two days and two nights."
A brief silence followed.
"I should have just finished you off."
Xiandra’s gaze snapped back at him.
"I should have drained every last drop of blood from your body and burned your corpse in the fire to ensure your death."
"W-what?!"
The man turned to her again, a smile playing on his lips—one she couldn't decipher as either alluring or terrifying.
"But I needed to keep you alive," he said, pointing at her. "Because your blood, human… will make me even stronger."
Xiandra shook her head violently.
No!
In an instant, she bolted for the door, desperate to escape—
But before she could take another step, a powerful arm coiled around her waist.
She gasped at the speed of it all.
She was once again pinned against the door, the man’s iron-like arms trapping her in place—unyielding, immovable.
Her tears fell once more. She no longer knew when they would stop.
"P-please… let me go…" she pleaded, her voice trembling.
A soft chuckle escaped him before he leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear.
"Ssshh..."
His cold breath ghosted over her skin, sending a shiver through her body.
"I never release a prisoner… once they’re in my grasp."
A chill ran down Xiandra’s spine.
And the man’s smile—the monster’s smile—was worse than any nightmare.
IT'S ANOTHER two nights and three days had passed since Xiandra was imprisoned in that room.
She did nothing but cry in the corner. The servants often brought her food, yet she could not bear to touch what was laid before her.
Every night, she became the monster’s feast.
Her skin was riddled with bite marks.
Her wounds from the forest had not even begun to heal. It would have been better if she had died there than suffer this torment.
“My Lady, please eat so you may regain your strength,” whispered a servant who entered the room. “If you wish to live, you must strengthen your spirit.”
Xiandra smirked bitterly. She wanted to laugh at the servant’s words.
“You’re probably a monster just like your master. That’s why you can’t understand what it feels like to be human… like me.”
Her voice was weak but firm.
Who could possibly understand her in this darkness?
No one.
No one but herself.
“What kind of human would wish to live here?” Her voice was filled with fading hope.
Behind her, the servant remained silent—her eyes reflected nothing but pity.
A deep sigh escaped the servant’s lips.
“You’re right… This is not our world, My Lady.”
Xiandra turned to her, surprised.
“What… do you mean? A-Are you human too?”
The servant nodded.
Xiandra fully faced her. Despite the fear that gripped her heart, she could not hide the small spark of hope that she was not alone in this nightmare.
“My God… were you also taken by the monster?” Curiosity filled her voice.
“N-No. I was not taken by the prince. Some of the humans here in the palace have their own stories of horror.”
“W-What do you mean? Are there… more of us?”
The servant shook her head. A bitter smile touched her lips.
She removed her blouse and revealed the bite marks on her shoulders—marks left by the monster.
Xiandra’s face turned pale at the sight.
“I was one of the ten captives brought here four years ago. How did we get here? We don’t know. Now, only three of us remain, struggling to survive in this world. The others… they could no longer endure the repeated extraction of blood from their bodies by these creatures. And we… we still cling to the hope of returning to the world we once knew. Now that their leader has returned—the one who brought you here—this might be our only chance.”
The servant suddenly grabbed Xiandra’s hands. She was trembling, her eyes filled with desperation.
“You are in the hands of the Prince of Darkness, My Lady. He is known as the most powerful in this realm. And we hope… that you might be the key to setting us free. Be strong. Convince him to help us return to our families. I beg you… you are our last hope.”
- Writer
