Fated to the Beast

Chapter 2: Cold and Gloomy Night

It was a frigid and dreary night, with rain pouring heavily outside the grand palace. However, the relentless downpour failed to mask the disturbing sounds echoing outside my chamber.

"Ahhh!"

"Noooo! Please stop it!"

"Don't kill me, please!"

Eloise's desperate screams reverberated off the palace walls as she fled for her life through the corridors. My other siblings pursued her, driven by the intent to end her life. Helplessness and nausea consumed me as I considered the possibility that the same fate awaited me if they were to discover my hiding place.

Eloise always wore a carefree smile whenever I saw her. I couldn't help but envy her, as I lacked the courage to display such a smile myself. After all, we were all born into this world burdened by the most wicked of families. Ever since I grasped the realities unfolding within the palace, things have been this way. It was when I turned six that I began to notice my siblings casting peculiar gazes and exuding dark and menacing auras. Some even warned me to be cautious as I grew older because, in this realm, it marked the beginning of a fear for our lives, including mine.

Their warnings were not born out of genuine concern but rather because they themselves would be the ones coming for me, relentlessly pursuing me until I ceased to breathe. At the age of six, I finally comprehended the truth. I understood why my brothers and sisters possessed chilling stares, why some of them vanished one by one, and why I occasionally glimpsed them drenched in blood as if they had taken a life. Only at that point did I fully fathom the implications because, from that moment onward, I was fully embroiled in the game our father had devised for his offspring.

Father had countless wives—perhaps twenty or more—and an extensive brood of children, their numbers and names blurring in my mind. I could recall only a handful. Some of Father's children, particularly my siblings, met their demise due to the foolish game he concocted when the queen finally bore a child. It was her arrival that sparked his absurd notion of determining the throne's heir.

Thus, Father devised a macabre game, pitting his children against one another. The last one standing among us would claim the throne upon his demise.

The number of siblings we dispatched became our ranking points, and those who ascended to the top would have the privilege of sitting closest to Father's throne. It was a position that guaranteed proximity to the throne's succession, and I aimed to climb that treacherous path for the sake of my own survival.

At present, the leading contenders were Lucius, born from the queen; Estefan, the child of the Fifth Wife; Fredrick; Heath, born of the Third Wife; and Alexandra, offspring of the Eighth Wife. Alexandra, the only woman to secure a place next to Father, embodied the ideal I aspired to. Yet, at the same time, I despised her for her wicked grin, as if she possessed an unassailable claim to the entire palace merely because of her proximity to Father.

"NOOOOOO!" Eloise's piercing scream shattered my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. But deep down, I knew it was too late. They had caught up with her and ultimately claimed her life. Yet another child had fallen victim to this senseless game, amidst thunderous growls and lightning illuminating my pitch-black room. How I yearned for this torment to end.

But at that very moment, my door began to creak, signaling an approaching presence.

Were they finally coming for me?

I remained silent, concealed within the closet, gripping a dagger tightly in my hand. I had turned ten years old this year, and for the past four years, I had been haunted by the absence of any attempts on my life, despite the countless warnings I had received. Perhaps the majority of the children within the palace remained oblivious to my existence, as I always kept a low profile, evading the attention of my siblings. But now, their gaze had fallen upon me, and one of them had entered my chamber.

My throat parched, my hand numb, as I sensed the footsteps drawing closer to the closet. Perspiration drenched my body despite the cold night. I bit my lip relentlessly, causing it to bleed, driven by fear. Then, I froze entirely as the intruder discovered me upon swinging open the closet door wide.

Lightning flashed once again, illuminating the room and revealing the silhouette of the man. It was Estefan, the prince occupying the second seat beside the throne, and he regarded me coldly, brandishing a bloodied sword. This day had always loomed before me, yet I had never anticipated feeling so utterly powerless under his gaze alone.

I closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for my inevitable demise.

If death awaits me, let it be swift!

Yet, I flinched as I felt his hand press against my lips, gently wiping away the blood caused by my self-inflicted bites. His perplexing act compelled me to open my eyes, and I witnessed the crimson stains upon his fingers as he withdrew them. He wiped the blood from my lips, which I had been gnawing at for so long.

"Remain hidden," he instructed, his eyes locked onto mine.

"This night... will be long," he murmured before closing the cabinet door and departing the room, leaving me bewildered and afraid. I gasped for breath, tears streaming down my face. I had believed I was about to meet my end. Releasing the dagger from my grip, I gathered my composure. This was no time to succumb to fear and weep. Should anyone hear me, I knew my life would be forfeit.

To regain my resolve, I inflicted a wound upon myself with the dagger, thankful that the pain jolted me back to reality. Blood continued to flow from my hand, prompting me to tear my nightgown and use it as a makeshift bandage.

For now, I must find strength; otherwise, I would end up like the others—alone and buried six feet underground.