THE NUN
1008 Words
“HOW’S YOUR training? Did you discover where you’re most suitable?” Mayilda asked the moment Symla entered the old mansion. She didn’t waste a second—her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Symla shyly bowed and sighed. She couldn’t bring herself to look her mother in the eye. Mayilda’s face was full of hope, and Symla didn’t have the heart to tell her the bad news.
Symla had been a vampire for over a hundred years, yet she still had no idea what her true ability was. She’d undergone countless types of training—healing, combat, even mind reading and foresight—but all of it proved useless. She never felt anything extraordinary.
She wasn’t like the others. Her friend Lyra could hear thoughts, her mother could control minds, and her father could hypnotize people.
Vampires could erase memories and read them by tasting a person’s blood. Sadly, Symla had none of those gifts. No strength, no power, not even remarkable speed. She felt useless. Because of that, she was told to stay with the elders while the others fought on the battlefield.
Two years ago, the wolves reached the Philippines. Symla’s family, who had originally come from Madrid, Spain, decided to settle there under the elders’ command. The country seemed peaceful—an ideal place to start anew—but they hadn’t heard from the elders in years.
Before all of that, Symla and her family once lived simple lives in the Philippines. They worked for a well-known politician as servants. Fortunately, their employer was kind enough to send Symla to school and even support her until she became a nun.
She was twenty-four when she left the convent to visit her sick parents. But upon returning to Madrid, something felt wrong. She grew weaker each day—as if every breath she took drained her life.
When she reached their home, her parents were already dying. Whatever it was, it spread fast, like a plague. No medicine could cure it. Desperate, Symla prayed for a miracle.
That miracle came in the form of Dr. Mateo De Francisco, a pale doctor from England who volunteered for the medical mission. While others fled in fear, he stayed—and his method of “healing” was unlike any other.
He made his patients drink his blood.
Symla was one of them. The moment his blood ran through her veins, she felt as though she was burning from the inside out. The pain was unbearable. Then darkness.
When she woke six months later, everything had changed—her eyes were red, her skin pale, and an insatiable thirst clawed at her throat. Her parents felt the same. They soon realized they weren’t the only ones—everyone treated by the doctor had turned.
Madrid became a nest of vampires.
Still, Symla was grateful. The doctor had saved them, after all. And though they were now creatures of the night, seeing her parents alive—eternal—made her happy. But the hunger was endless. She tried to resist it, but the thirst always won.
Years passed. Symla and her family accepted their fate. They lived under the rule of Dr. De Francisco, who became their leader and savior. When he returned to England, he appointed Symla’s father to lead in his place. No one dared question it.
Their peace lasted—until Manolo, her father’s closest friend, was killed by a wolf from Barcelona. Wolves and vampires had a fragile truce, but the murder shattered it.
Witnesses said Manolo begged for mercy before he was torn apart. Enraged, Symla’s father reported it to the elders, who declared war. It wasn’t the first time wolves had attacked vampires—but it was the last straw.
The wolves’ king tried to negotiate peace, but the vampires refused. They retaliated by killing him, thinking it would end the conflict.
It didn’t.
The king’s death ignited a full-scale war. The wolves were fierce and relentless. They discovered new ways to kill vampires—not just sunlight, decapitation, or a stake through the heart—but with silver, which burned their flesh and drained their powers.
Under the full moon, the wolves’ strength tripled. The vampires were no match. One by one, they perished.
Those who survived fled—to the Philippines.
The country’s humid, tropical climate wasn’t ideal, but in Tagaytay, where the air was cool and mist clung to the hills, the vampires found refuge. There, they discovered an abandoned mansion. It became their new home.
“My training is useless, Mother,” Symla finally said, lowering her head. “I can’t hear people’s thoughts. No matter what I do, it feels like I’m doing something wrong.”
“We’re losing this war, Symla. You must discover your ability so we can send you to the battlefield,” her father said as he entered. His voice was heavy with frustration and fear.
They were outnumbered. Vampires from other nations were vanishing too. If the wolves found their hiding place, it would be over.
“I hope your talent can help us in this war,” he added. “We’re running out of time.”
Symla nodded, her chest tightening. She wanted to help—more than anyone knew. She didn’t want their kind to disappear.
Then came a soft knock on the door. An old vampire entered—Old Hermosora, her hair and skin as white as snow.
“I want to help,” she said in a frail but steady voice. “I may be old, but my power still works. Instead of making Symla try everything, let me read her body.”
Mayilda and her husband exchanged a hopeful glance. Symla nodded in agreement. She wanted to know—needed to know—what her body was hiding.
Old Hermosora had the gift of body reading—by touching someone’s skin, she could sense their hidden abilities. They had thought she had lost her power long ago.
But tonight, hope stirred again.
And Symla was ready to know the truth.
- Writer
